Page 106 of The Potter

“I love you, too, you know?” I swipe away a rogue tear and she laughs.

“I sure fucked that up, huh?”

“No, you didn’t. I still love you, Cal—I just hope you get a bad bout of diarrhea occasionally.”

A true laugh bursts out of her as she smacks my chest. “Shut up.”

The air feels lighter, even though nothing has really changed between us. Deep down, I’ve always continued to love Calista, and I think she’s felt the same. But our grief was crippling, taking away the good memories we had and covering them in darkness so we felt alone and estranged.

The words,will you forgive me, are right there on my tongue, just waiting to be asked.

But I hold them back.

I’ve allowed enough things to control my life. I don’t need Calista’s forgiveness to move on. Sure, I might want it, but me healing only requires forgiving myself. Asking anyone else to do it for me will only lead to disappointment.

And I’m done with that.

“I told my attorney I wanted to give the money back,” Calista blurts out. “If Logan were alive, he would have divorced me for suing you in the first place.”

He would have, but I don’t tell her that. We’re trying to make progress here.

“But he said that was between me and you. So…” She takes my hand, bowing her head. “I’d very much like your approval in opening a scholarship fund in Logan’s honor for underprivileged kids who want to attend med school.”

Something flutters in my chest. “I think Logan would like that very much.”

“But what about you?”

I think about how much progress Calista and I have made in a matter of minutes. “I think I’d like that very much.”

We might not have forgiven each other, and maybe we never will, but one thing is for sure, we are making progress.

We are moving on.

Vance

Ipaid Clyde—who was a real person and not just a name of a shitty motel.

It was the first time I’ve ever paid for a phone number.

And after today, it better be the last.

Me: Tell me where you are.

Moody Teenager: A chapel. Hal insisted on making a man out of me.

Okay, I take it back. I’ll likely need to buy another phone number when Halle changes hers after I kill Remington.

Me: I’m not in the mood.

Moody Teenager: Halle says you’re never in the mood. Quite a shame really. She deserves someone younger with more stamina.

For fuck’s sake. Will she really miss him? Maybe I’ll just pay him off instead of killing him? I think Brazil sounds like a nice place for a teenager to roam and impregnate the locals.

Me: The address, Remington.

Moody Teenager: What are you, like fifty?

The longer I entertain his bullshit, the longer I sit in this car, just off the tarmac, in California. But, I need to know where they are without asking Halle. For all I know, she’ll refuse to speak with me since I’ve given her nothing but radio silence these past few months while I handled my shit.

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