Page 99 of Objection to Love

By the seventh ring, it had picked back up, because she was starting to think of something—that he wouldn’t answer again, and she’d have to leave a message.

The ringing stopped, an automated recording told her to leave a message, and the voicemail beeped. And Em promptly hit the big red button and threw the phone back onto her bed.

She fell face-first onto the mattress. If she didn’t leave a message, would he still call back? Probably not.

Ughhhh.

Gathering her strength yet again, she picked the phone back up and made a second call, trying to ignore how pathetic she felt about it. Again, he didn’t answer, and again, the voicemail beeped. But this time, she left a somewhat stable-sounding message.

“Hi, Garrett, it’s Em. In case your caller-ID didn’t tell you or… never mind. Anyway, I wondered… Well, I wondered if you’d let me take you out this afternoon? I’d like to talk. If that’s okay.” At this point, Em’s sanity was slipping, and it was time to wrap things up. “Lemmeknow.Kbye!”

Then she fell back on the bed, questioning her life choices.

One thing was for sure: law school had been way easier than love.

Chapter 36

Em

Garrettdidn’tcallback.All day Friday she had her phone glued to her hand and her eyes essentially glued to her window. But he didn’t call.

She’d taken work off for nothing.

No, not nothing. It was all a part of her newfound determination to practice moderation in her job.

Still, she might have slipped in a few phone calls and emails during the day. She was coming to realize that she really did love her job. She just didn’t love working twenty-four-seven like the devil himself was on her heels. It was exhausting constantly trying to appear perfect for her boss, coworkers, and parents. So she would work for herself and the victims that she’d chosen this field of practice for in the first place.

Saturday morning, Em woke up feeling sad. That was the best word for it. She was just sad. She thought about calling April and venting to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Why, she wasn’t really sure. Maybe because it was embarrassing. Or she didn’t want to burden her sister after everything she had just been through.

Or maybe it was because if she told someone Garrett wasn’t calling her back, she had to admit he might not ever call her back.

Around noon, she reached an all-time low. She sent him another text. Two texts, actually. Texts she wouldn’t have even sent in the prime of her middle-school dating stage.

Em: Hey… Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to check if you got my message yesterday? Or my text the day before.

Em: Of course, if you did get them and aren’t responding on purpose, that’s okay too. But if you’d let me know, I’d appreciate it. I have a lot I’d like to talk to you about.

It had been two hours since she’d sent the texts. And no, they didn’t get any less painful to think about after two hours.

Attempting to distract herself, Em sat at her kitchen table to work through some emails and then send in a grocery pickup order. But a noise outside her house pulled her from the tasks. A noise that sounded a lot like a truck pulling into the driveway next door.

Her ego still bruised from her unanswered messages, she tentatively walked to the window and peeked out. There was a car in Garrett’s driveway. It wasn’t Garrett’s, though, and whoever had been in it had already gotten out.

With more than a little curiosity—and a frustrated groan—Em went back to the table. Garrett was too good a guy to leave her hanging. He would call her back. Or text her back. Or something. She did not need to go barging next door for answers.

She. Did. Not.

She drummed her fingers against the tabletop.

She bounced her leg up and down.

She tried to stop looking toward the front of her house.

Em wouldn’t have made a good spy. She didn’t do well under pressure. And she, apparently, didn’t do well with only her mind as company. Which, she’d like to point out, wasn’t ever an issue until she met Garrett and he went screwing with her head and her heart. But screw with it, he had, and completely lose it, she did.

Which was how she ended up marching over to his house a few minutes after three PM.

Her loud banging on the front door was, perhaps, overkill, but she was fired up. She was a woman in court. She was here for answers. She had also gone a little crazy the last week.

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