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“Miranda,” he answers, sounding happy to hear from me, and guilt instantly tightens around my insides.
“Ugh, hey, Calum.”
“Shit.” He laughs. “Are you canceling again?”
“Yes.” I wince. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. Is your son okay?” Darn, he’s seriously so nice.
“Yes, he’s good. He’s with his dad.” I pick at a thread on my robe. “I… well…” I drag in a breath. “To be honest with you, there’s a guy I connected with recently, and I need to figure out if there is something there before—”
“I get it,” he says softly, cutting me off. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Good luck, Miranda. I hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks, Calum.”
“Later, babe.”
“Yeah, later.” I hang up, then drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. I know he made that easy for me, but I still feel like a jerk for agreeing to go out with him in the first place, then basically leading him on for a week. Okay, maybe I didn’t lead him on, but I for sure never should have agreed to have dinner with him.
With a groan, I scrub my hands down my face. It’s funny how quickly I forget the most horrible parts about dating. The back and forth, the “does he like me, do I like him, is this going somewhere, and do I even want it to go somewhere?” And then the feeling of just being a crap person when you realize you don’t like someone and have to say that out loud to them.
When my cell starts to ring in my hand, I look at the screen, then frown at the number I don’t recognize, coming in from New York. I debate not answering, but since Kingston is with Bowie, I slide my finger across the screen.
“Hello?”
“What the fuck?” a familiar male voice barks.
“Walker?” I ask, because it sounds like my brother, but there is a lot of background noise.
“Yeah, Miranda, it’s me. What the fuck?”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand what answer you’re looking for, because unfortunately, that’s not an actual question.”
“You and Bowie got divorced?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck?”
“Again, that’s not a question, Walker.”
“He cheated on you?”
Darn, I told my parents not to tell him right now.
“He did.” I push up off the couch.
“Why didn’t you tell me the last time we talked?” he asks as I walk into the kitchen.
“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I mean, you have way more important things to think about.” Like staying alive, I think but don’t say, because I know he’ll tell me that I worry too much. But how could I not worry? His job is one of the most dangerous jobs you can have, and he has to stay focused when he’s working. One slip up could be catastrophic for him, and the men he works with.
“You should have told me.”
“I should have.” I open the dishwasher so I can start putting everything away. “I just don’t want you to worry.”
“You’re my family. Of course I’m going to worry. How’s my nephew?”
“It’s been an adjustment, but he’s doing okay.”
“Fuck,” he clips out. “I’m going to kill Bowie.”
“How have you been?” I ask, ignoring that comment, because it freaks me out and I know that is something he could probably do without remorse. “Are you dating anyone?”
“I’m seeing someone. She’s a flight attendant,” he says, and a weight lifts off my shoulders.
“Really?” Honestly, I want to see him settle down, get married, and retire, and I know our parents feel the same. Not that I’m not proud of him for the things he’s accomplished; I just worry constantly that something is going to happen, and I’ll never hear from him or see him again.
“Yeah, she’s from Tennessee actually.”
“Small world.”
“You’re not wrong.” He lets out a breath. “Now, tell me the truth. How are you?”
“Happy,” I say quietly. “I know I shouldn’t be, given what happened, but I think Bowie and I were over before he started having an affair. I was just too busy to realize it.”
“Do you need anything? I can send you some money.”
My throat gets itchy. I miss my brother. It was hard when he moved away right after high school and left me behind. He was the one solid thing at home, and when he was gone, I didn’t have that anymore. “I’m good. We’re good.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I say quietly.
“Okay.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to make it home this summer? I’m sure Mom and Dad told you about the RV they bought. They’re going to drive to visit me.”
“They did. I just don’t know right now. Things are up in the air.”
“Well, let me know, and hopefully you can bring the girl.”
“Maybe,” he mutters, sounding distracted by whoever I hear talking to him in the background. “Sorry, kid. I gotta go. Call me soon.”
