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I rise to my knees, barely resisting the urge to lunge after him and grab his shirt. “It’s almost nine o’clock. You’re really going back down to the office?”
“I won’t be long,” he assures me. “An hour at the most.”
I sigh, recognizing the look on his face. There’s no way I’m going to be able to convince him to stay. So I decide to let this battle go.
My phone buzzes somewhere under the blankets, and I start searching for it. It’s probably Rowan or Cyrille calling to chit-chat.
Misha pulls on a shirt, and I point a warning finger at him. “If you’re not back in my arms in an hour, I’m coming down to get you.”
He leans over the bed and kisses me on the lips. “Deal.”
I continue fumbling around for my phone, but I don’t find it until it has already stopped ringing and Misha is long gone.
The missed call is from an unknown number. It’s been so long since I’ve had a call from anyone beyond the immediate family. They were the only ones who knew I was alive for a long stretch. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that other people are reaching out now that I’ve resurrected myself.
It’s late and I’m thinking about ignoring the call altogether when it starts vibrating again.
“Shit,” I mutter, acting on instinct and answering the call before I can chicken out. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Faye… the accountant?”
I frown.Faye the accountant?Who the hell is—
Then I recognize the voice.Her voice.
“Jillian?” I ask.
“You’re that accountant woman, right? The one who works for my daughter?”
I hear a man in the background shout, “Ourdaughter!”
When was the last time I heard my father’s voice? He sounds so much older. His voice is like a flat tire flapping on gravel. I hear decades of cigarettes and bourbon soaked into the fabric of each word.
“No, this isn’t Faye,” I say automatically.
“Huh? Then how’d you know my name?” Jillian demands. “Who the fuck’re—”
“Faye doesn’t exist, Mama,” I snap. “It’s me. Paige.”
A pause. A long, pregnant pause. Then: “… P-Paige?”
More scrambling on the other line. Dad’s breathing comes through the line clearly. “Fucking hell. Is that my Paige girl?”
I would roll my eyes if they weren’t brimming with tears. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. They don’t deserve my sadness. “You have literally never called me that in your life.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” my mother interjects. “Bawling like a baby because you didn’t get a nickname? Grow up.”
I exhale. There isn’t enough time in the world to outline all the things I didn’t get from them. I don’t even want to try. “I just want to know why you called me in the first place.”
“Well… we just wanted to know how you were doing,” Garrett says.
“We haven’t seen or spoken to you in years,” Jillian adds in this false, high-pitched, wheedling,you-owe-mevoice that sets my teeth on edge. “And then you call us with a fake name—”
“I called you to give you money,” I interrupt. “I called you to make sure you were both doing okay.”
“You pretended to be someone else!”
“I thought it would be easier!” I snap back. “I mean, come on, Mama. It’s not like you were happy to hear from me again.”
