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She exhaled and sat up straighter. “No. But we did kiss. And held hands.”
“Ah,” I said, resting my cheek in my palm. “Holding hands is the sweetest. Kissing is gross. Unless you’re the one doing it.”
“Well, it wasn’t gross for me.” She fanned herself with the wine list. “We’re going out again tonight—and I’m thinking, you know, maybe it’s time…but I don’t want to rush it. What’s happening now is so…hopeful. Exciting in a sweet way…”
“You’ve already slept with him.”
She sighed, dramatically. “Yeah. Afterwards he ran.”
I leaned back and crossed my legs. “Hmm. You’ll do what feels right.”
“What about you?” She dipped a hunk of bread in the dish of golden olive oil between us. “Another quiet weekend at home?”
“It isn’t quiet with Charley around. He won’t go to bed unless I do and is exhausted by nine. Suddenly, I’m a parent.” I exhaled. “Been busy too. The PR company seems to have a new project for me every day.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, making content mostly. A photographer came over to the house on Wednesday and did a shoot. I’ve done a couple interviews too, where I’m on camera at home. It all takes a lot of prep.” I took a sip of water. “It’s about time to scale all of that back. I hope I’m done with the major stuff now.”
Amber leaned forward. “I saw your Instagram account today—that’s a lot of attention.”
“Charley’s the star. His reels get more views than anything else I do. Then people want to buy the things they see him wearing or playing with. It’s blowing my mind.”
“Huh.” Amber blinked. “That’s some powerful marketing.”
I shrugged. “Who knows if it will last.”
She tapped her fingers, squinting at me. “Heard from Hank?”
“No.” I tried to smile.
“Why don’t you call him or something?”
I arranged my spoon and fork next to my plate so they were perfectly straight and symmetrical. “I’m not sure. I really want him here but I don’t think I deserve him. Maybe it would be better for him to pick someone else.” At least then I wouldn’t be responsible for screwing up, again.
“Hang in there,” Amber said. “Maybe talk to someone?”
I nodded. Of course, I’d meant to talk to a therapist for a long time. Monday, I decided, I’d figure it out.
I went to my last class, Intro to Psychology, and sat for my exam. It was gearing up to be a challenging class but so far, I’d kept up.
After our lecture, I took my time gathering my things to let the first rush of students get out the door. Hank crossed my mind—I could call him…
I stared at my phone for a moment.What was wrong with me?It was like I’d become a collapsed version of myself.
Sally: I miss you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t make you feel cared for. You’re special—I’ve always known you were too good for me. Do what’s right for you. I haven’t gotten in touch to give you space to know what’s best for your life. You’re an amazing person, Hank Bridger.
Hands in the pockets of my dress, I wandered out at the tail of the pack of students. Outside, a row of maple trees were bright red, orange and gold and gusts of wind swirled their dropped leaves up in whirligigs.
“Sally,” said a familiar voice behind my shoulder.
I stumbled then gripped the handrail. Heartbeat racing, I turned toward the other side of the steps. It was Hank.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Hank came closer and propped himself against the handrail in front of me. “Hey,” he said, one side of his mouth curling up in a lopsided grin.
I stared at him, holding in a breath. “Why are you always surprising me?”
