Page 53 of Never Really Over

Maybe it was because I knew they’d be around Colt and I couldn’t handle hearing about his life, especially if they involved other women. Even as I was settling in, making a new life for me in Chicago, I doubted my choice. Too many times I’d pick up the phone and scroll through pictures of me and Colt, wishing things had been different and I’d have been happy staying in Hollow Grove.

Then Dalton would remind me that I was doing something for myself and that was okay. I wasn’t being selfish, I was just following my heart. Only, there were many times that I felt my heart was screaming at me that I’d made the wrong choice. My heart still longed for Colt, but it also longed for the life I was building for myself. I’d felt like I was two people in one body.

After six months had gone by, it was easier to stay away. It was easier to not look back. The what-ifs had faded and I felt myself blossoming in ways I never had. I was trying new things and experiencing a life I had only dared to dream of. My work life was amazing and I was already up for a promotion. I had made friends, though none were as good as the women I grew up with, and I had even gone on a date. It ended in disaster, but I still got out there. After a year, I was happy. I felt like I’d made the right decision.

And as the years went by, the what-ifs were no longer faded, they were evaporated. Gone completely. I was a Chicagoan, loving the life I’d built for myself. By myself. I had a great apartment, good friends, was making incredible money.

But shortly before Mom’s accident, something in me had shifted. It no longer feltright.It felt… like I’d done my time, I’d proven to myself that I could branch out and spread my wings and I was proud of that. But there was a hole missing in my heart and a part of me knew what it was.

Home.

I just wasn’t sure whathomemeant. Was it finding a new place to live? Finding someone to come home to?

Then I saw Colt the day I panicked, thinking that something bad had happened, and I said things that I can’t take back.

Jealousy is an ugly beast.

I do my best to stand up, go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and take a shower, praying that the hot spray of water will jolt me out of this pity party I’m hosting for myself.

It doesn’t do the trick completely, but at least I feel a little more like myself and no longer feel like my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. There’s a reason why I broke up with tequila a long time ago. It’s probably the devil’s sweat.

After setting the picture back in its place, I take one long look at Colt and me together. A lot of those what-ifs start coming back, but this time they aren’t questions of whether or not I should have stayed in Hollow Grove. It’s questions about the future.

If we have a future. Together.

Is it even possible? And if it is, is it something that I want?

The answer to the first is maybe. The answer to the second is yes.

Dressing in lightweight green shorts and long sleeve shirt loungewear, I brush out my wet hair, put in some product, and let it air dry. No makeup is applied, but I’m generous with the lotion. When I get to the kitchen, Mom is sitting at the table, reading something on the Kindle Paperwhite I bought her last Christmas and drinking a cup of tea. The crazy woman never did like coffee, but Diet Pepsi and tea, hot or iced, were always around.

“Tea?” she asks, not looking up from her phone.

Shaking my head, I decline, opting for a large glass of water instead. I need to hydrate. “I think I’ll just have some water for now.”

“Better eat something.”

“Dalton and Bridget are bringing supper over in a few hours.”

She gives me the mom look and I try hard not to wince. “I know, but you threw up for an hour last night and need to fill up your stomach. Eat some crackers.”

I don’t remember throwing up or Mom being there. This is almost as bad as the sex talk. Almost.

“I’m sorry.”

“It happens,” she says with a shrug. “Something tells me yesterday didn’t go so well.”

She knew I was going to Missy’s to see the girls but doesn’t know that I went to Colt’s or had spent the day there.

I grab a box of crackers from the cupboard and have a seat at the table with Mom. “That’s one way to say it.”

She reaches across the table and grips my hand. “I’m here to talk. When you’re ready. Now, tell me about work. How’s the transition?”

Grateful for the subject change, I launch into the details of work. How my old job didn’t seem surprised and has been supportive with everything from finishing up my current projects to Zoom meetings with the person who’s taking my position.

“And Stan? How’s he doing?”

“Great. I think he’s incredibly happy with his decision. He’ll be here next weekend, did I tell you?”

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