“It is sad to leave your first house. How are the kids handling it?”
“Matt is excited. Libby goes through phases of excitement and then being terrified we’re going to forget something when we move. I’ve assured her over and over we’ll double-check every closet and cabinet before we make the official move. And Jack doesn’t care about anything as long as someone is feeding him,” she laughs. “That kid is such a little chunk.”
“But he’s an adorable chunk.”
Carly smiles. “They’re good kids.”
“You and Justin are good parents.”
“We try.” She gives me a wink.
“Do you have a plan for the house picked out yet?”
“Of course!” She pulls out her phone and shows me the blueprints, excitedly talking about how she’s going to paint and decorate. It’s a welcome distraction, but I can’t keep my mind from wandering back to Owen and how things could’ve been different if we never broke up in the first place
“Oh shit,” Carly grumbles, reading the text that just came through on her phone.
“Everything okay?”
“Jack has a fever and is throwing up again. Poor kid can’t get over that virus.”
“Do you need to go home?”
“Nah.” She waves her hand in the air, making me so thankful for my sister. She’s a stay-at-home mom, totally devoted to her children, and loves them more than life itself. Just the fact that she’s willing to stay out with me when she’s got a sick baby at home means a lot.
“After dinner,” I start. “Go home. Jack will want his mama.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. It was nice getting out of the house, but this is the first time in two weeks I’ve done more than listen to “Defying Gravity” on repeat while chugging a bottle of three-dollar wine, so I’m kinda tired.”
Carly presses her lips together, smiling with concern. It’s a strange look only she and our mother can pull off. “You’re still into Wicked? I almost forgot about that phase.”
“It’s a great play and the music is classic.”
“I’ll take your word for it. How many times did you go see it?”
“Four.” The first time was with Owen. Broadway is not his thing, but he knew how much I wanted to see it, so he surprised me with tickets.
“Did you go see shows a lot in New York?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t really have time.” And Todd never wanted to go with me. “Maybe we can go up to Chicago and see something together this summer.”
“I’d like that.”
We talk about Broadway shows and summer plans the rest of dinner. I get my leftovers boxed up to take home to no doubt eat later tonight when I wake up at two AM unable to fall back asleep. Carly drives me back to Mom and Dad’s, gives me a hug goodbye, and goes home to take care of Jack.
The house is quiet and empty when I step inside. Taking off my shoes, I go into the kitchen and put my leftovers in the fridge. Then I go upstairs and sink back into bed. Tulip pads into the room and jumps up on the bed next to me, letting me pet her for a minute before she bites my hand.
I flop back on my pillows, trying hard not to think. Not to feel. And then my phone rings. It’s Todd, and just when I’m about to end the call and block his number for good, I decide I should answer.
Because it’s time to face this shit.
Just seeing his name on my phone screen makes my heart skip a beat and anxiety to spread through me. All the food I ate at dinner threatens to come up. Swallowing hard, I grit my teeth and answer.
I don’t want to be angry anymore. Maybe talking to him will bring some sort of closure…or maybe it won’t. But I don’t know if I don’t pick up the phone.
“What do you want?”
“Charlie,” he breathes. “You answered.”
“Yeah. I did. So…what do you want?”
“I want you to hear me out.”
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “There’s nothing to hear. You cheated on me. With someone I know. I was Gemma’s secret Santa at work last year and I spent way over the suggested budget because that’s what I do. I’m a nice person, giving good fucking gifts to people who don’t fucking deserve it.”
So much for closure.
“I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I wasn’t expecting an apology if I’m being honest. By saying he’s sorry, Todd is admitting guilt, and that’s not something I thought he’d do. “It’s nice to hear you say that, but it doesn’t change things.” I let my hand fall to the mattress, and I flop over on my side. My heart is heavy, but it’s not being weighed down by pain like before. It’s more like a deep sadness for what could have been, paired with the fact that I know it’s time to let it all go.