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“At least he answers my questions,” Farrow refutes. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lie. “How’s she?”
“She’s not doing fine,” Farrow says diplomatically like he knows I’m full of shit and he’s full of truths.
My grip tightens on the phone, emotions starting to pummel me.Can’t even be there for her.Not tonight. “Her fics?”
“Pretty sure this is about you.”
I don’t want to cause her pain.I do the stupid thing and glance down at the drop. Not scared of heights, but my head goes woozy and I swing my leg over the edge, straddling the low brick wall.
“I’m not planning on leaving her or anything. We’re still friends.”
“I know,” Farrow breathes out.
“She knows that?” Maybe I need to reassure her more. Maybe I didn’t do a good job on the Hale’s roof. Can’t even remember all the things I said. Everything is a fucking blur. My vision gets hazy as tears invade, and I wipe them away roughly.
“It wouldn’t hurt to tell her again,” Farrow says.
I nod strongly. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” I blow out smoke.
“She’s coming home tonight. Lily is driving her to the penthouse.”
I say the first thing I think. “I ruined Hale Family Dinner.”
“Loren ruined Hale Family Dinner,” Farrow refutes roughly. “Man, that’s not on you.”
Okay.
Okay.
I shed that weight as fast as it fell on me. Then after snuffing out my cigarette, I say a quick goodnight to Farrow, silently thanking him for the heads up. I’m already practically sprinting back into the penthouse.
Everyone else is asleep, but a few of the night owl cats roam the halls in their nocturnal state. Earlier, I said goodnight to Orion. Luna’s black furred Newfie usually sleeps on her bed.
As I reach the wide hallway, the front door not even in view, I skid to a sudden stop. Mostly because of my pole-vaulting pulse. I try to catch my breath, and I glance down. A tuxedo cat is blocking my next move.
Toodles stares me down like we’re in a western.
I should be aheroto Jane and Thatcher’s cats. I held some of them after the townhouse fire. Saved them from singed tails. But most treat me like I’m an empty can of tuna. With nothing to offer, nothing to give.
It hasn’t bothered me before, but tonight, it tightens my chest.
“You gonna move?” I ask him.
He doesn’t blink.
“Shoo.” I swat a hand in the air.
He doesn’t budge.
“I’m just trying to get to the elevator.” I want to greet her as soon as she arrives, and if I’m honest with myself, I know it’s not Toodles the fucking chunk monster barring me from stepping forward. I could easily outmaneuver this pudgy cat.
It’s my pulse.
Racing at uncertain speeds. Is this the right thing to do? Waiting here for her to return? I don’t have that answer, but my feet, glued to the floorboards, are making the decision for me.
I can’t tear away from this cat. Toodles is the lazy one, but he bends low like he’s stalking a rat.
