Page 41 of Tough Love
“Okay.” I swallow, staring at a stain in Briar’s carpet. “I, um, I spoke to Mum yesterday like you suggested.”
“And?”
“She told me a few things that shouldn’t have been a surprise, but … well, I guess they still stung when I heard them spoken out loud, you know?”
He hesitates. “What did she say?”
I swallow back my fears and hit him with the reason for my call. “Could I talk to you about it in person?”
“Of course.”
“When do you have lunch?” I hold my breath, waiting on his reply. If he shoots me down here, baulks at how urgent I sound, then I may as well write off ever calling again.
“Eleven. You want me to come over?” he asks hesitantly.
The breath leaves my lungs with a whoosh. “If you could, but not here. At my place.”
“Sure. Message me the address.”
I drop to the edge of Briar’s bed, my shoulders sagging with relief. “Can I be honest with you, Evan?”
“Always.” The muted sounds of him chewing come down the line.
“It wasn’t until I saw you on Friday that I realised … I still miss you. I thought I was over it.” I sigh, closing my eyes for courage. “But I guess I never really let go completely.”
Silence is all I’m afforded. By heart kicks up pace, a hot flush washing from head to toe.
“I’m sorry if that makes you feel awkward, but I have to get it off my chest, admit it out loud—”
“I get it.” He swallows. “I understand, Mimi. I really do. You just … you kind of took me by surprise, is all.”
“Was that a bad thing?”
“No,” he says. “Not at all. It was … nice to hear.”
Seconds pass like hours with nothing but poignant silence between us. What else can I say? What else willhesay?
“I’ll see you at eleven then?”
Well, I guess he could say that.
“Yeah. Eleven.”
I hang up and immediately send him my address, realising only when a tear drops to the back of my hand how deeply his acceptance of that admission affected me.
Yet, I still can’t pick what from: happiness or sadness.
I miss him; miss us. I’ve never felt as complete as I did when I was with him. But he made it clear nine years ago that he didn’t feel the same way.
So why am I hoping things are different now?
***
The buzzer in my apartment sounds, letting me know the gate has been accessed using my code. I dart to the window, and then across to the kitchen, finally getting lost somewhere in the middle of my living area when I pick up on the sound of his engine shutting off below.
What the hell do I do? Act casual, or greet him at the door? He must know I heard him pull up. Ugh, decisions, decisions.
The doorbell sounds as I’m contemplating changing my fitted T-shirt for something a little looser.