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I turned, grasped the doorknob and opened the door, leaving Milo standing in his kitchen, tears in his eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Three
-Milo-
All in all, the drive to Seattle wasn’t bad, even though my mind was racing faster than the cars on the road. Hannah had made it quite clear that she wasn’t going to change her stance on the custody agreement, and Richard made it quite clear that he was having hesitation on me winning full custody, and then Madeline made it very clear she wasn’t going to move to Seattle. Everything was very “clear,” yet still a blur.
The entire drive I thought of leaving Madeline, of making this massive change without her. I rented my apartment. That was easy to get out of, but she owned her home. What was I expecting her to do? Sell it? Put it up for rent? She loved her home, and here I was just expecting her to follow me to a new city. I’d told her I was adding her into my plans, but she didn’t want me to, at least not any plans that consisted of me moving to Seattle.
The city was huge, bigger than Portland, with more cars and way more people. I could barely navigate my truck through the skinny streets to Clay’s apartment. He’d told me to park in the underground parking lot, that he’d leave his spot open for me. What I didn't expect was, the guy drove aTesla, the small Model S Tesla. How I managed to squeeze my massive truck into that small space, I had no idea. Even though Seattle was bigger, everything seemed smaller somehow.
Clay met me at his door, giving me a hug and patting my shoulder. It had been years since I had seen him. His brown hair was shorter than normal, but he was still wearing the suit and tie.
“Did you just get off work?” I asked, taking a look down at my jeans and Iron Man t-shirt. I looked like I lived in the country next to his stylish dress and modern apartment.
“Left as soon as you told me you were coming. How was the drive?”
“Not bad.” I set my suitcase down in his living room, taking in the open concept. I knew Clay. I’d lived with Clay. I knew he’d most likely hired someone to come and clean his apartment for him and that he’d most likely hired a decorator. There was a lot of gray, a lot of white, and possibly even more black. Windows on the side of the building went from the floor to the roof, a door heading out to a balcony. Clay was living his dream life, and even though I knew a part of him regretted it, he seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Are you sure I can live here if it comes to it? I’m too…”
“Messy?” Clay interjected. “I’m pretty sure if you do end up moving up this way, Madeline will be able to keep you on your toes. Your place is homey. This is a bachelor pad.” Clay spread his arms and did a circle around the living room, obviously very pleased with himself.
“Yeah,and don’t tell me how much thisbachelor padcost you.”
“Aww, man. You don’t wanna know. My mortgage is probably more than your rent and car payment combined.”
I rolled my eyes. “I believe it, except I own my truck. What happened to the simple living we had in college?”
“We grew up, got real jobs, and moved on.”
“It looks like you don't even live here.”
“Maria keeps it pretty nice, doesn't she?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes again and went to sit on his couch. In college, he had every gaming system, an entertainment center worth thousand, and now all I saw when I sat down was the tile fireplace. “I miss the days when I would come home after a shift, and you would be playingCall of DutyorHalo…”
“Oh, Milo.” He let out a small chuckle. “Let me show you the gaming room, my friend. I still have those, and yes, let's play.” Clay motioned me toward a staircase. I instantly jumped up and followed.
The “gaming room,” as Clay had called it, was different than the rest of the house. It was like a jump through time. The leather couch sat up against the wall facing a huge television. The stand had every gaming console you could think of—most from when we lived together. He picked up a controller from the coffee table and tossed it at me.
“Do you want a beer?” he asked, heading for a small fridge that sat in the corner.
“Sure.” I sat on the couch and took the beer he handed me. “So the rest of the house is just a front, huh? I bet the girls you bring over don't see this room.”
“Not unless they want to play Xbox or PlayStation.” Clay powered up the Xbox, the white and green logo hitting all the nostalgic vibes. I felt the controller with my hands and felt a weight lift off, even if it was just for a few hours.
Walking into a new hospital was a different experience. A hiring manager called me in the morning to ask if I would be interested in a tour and semi-interview. I agreed, not really thinking much of it. Seattle was the last resort. The hiring manager met at the front of the hospital, something that hadn’t happened to me in the past, and proceeded to show me the entire emergency unit and then some of the ambulances. I met a few other paramedics and was even invited on a run.
After I strapped on the bulletproof vest and settled myself in the front seat, I could see myself here. It was the same as Portland, louder for sure, but nonetheless, the job was the same. I knew the motions, easy enough to take lead on the run where I was supposed to be observing, and when we returned, I was told I was high on the hiring ranks and that the job was pretty much mine.
I informed them it wasn’t a sure thing that I was moving and gave them the entire situation. Giving me all their information, and making sure they had mine, I had an offer for a job that was mine whenever I would need it. I left with a handshake and a promise to be in touch, clutching my phone in my hand with Madeline’s text thread pulled open. I typed, my thumbs moving faster than I wanted them to. I forced myself to stop and read the text…as simple as it was.
Milo: I have a possible job lined up…now to apartment search…
I stared at the text, my thumb hovering over the send button. Even though this was good news in the long run, it wasn’t good news right now. Madeline didn’t want this. My text would only dig the hole deeper. As much as I wanted to call her and tell her everything since arriving in Seattle, she made it clear she needed time.
I erased the text and placed my phone in my cup holder. I would talk to Madeline when I got home. Could I wait until I got home? I turned my truck on and watched as the dashboard screen lit up, the Chevy Bowtie bringing the dash to life. I would have to. She needed time.
