Page 74 of The First Kind of Love
I’m about to grab my clutch when my phone on the entryway table begins to vibrate, and my eyes pivot down to catch my mother’s name flashing across the screen. Why would she be calling me right now? I told her I’d be occupied for the day.
Wrangling some loose nerves, I inhale deeply before answering the call, adopting a tone of nonchalance despite the concern churning in my stomach. “Hey, Mom. I’m just about to head to the wedding. Can I call?—”
Panic crackles through the speaker, distorting my mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry to bother you, honey, but there’s an investor here who needs to speak with you in person to sign off on a loan for the business.”
“A loan…but I thought we were denied?”
“We were. So your dad reached out to a friend of your aunt’s, and he wants to invest. But he’s also asking for a percentage of the business. I know it’s a lot to ask of you—and you’d have to get a flight out as soon as possible—but this could save the business. He can’t come down another time to work this out.”
I…I don’t know what to say. Fuck, I don’t know what tothink. My parents were the ones who wanted me to go on this vacation, and now they want me to drop everything and come back home? How am I supposed to choose between my blood family and my chosen family? This isn’t fair. I can’t help but feel like I’ve been completely blindsided.
With my heart shivering like fragile wings against a raging tempest, I begin to pace back and forth, not caring for the loud clack of my platforms against the hardwood floor. “Can’t you just talk to him yourself?”
“I wish I could, Shiloh, but since you own part of the shop,we need your signature too. We need this money and fast, or we won’t be able to make payroll.”
No, no, no. This isn’t happening. Ticket prices are going to be ridiculously high for a flight on such short notice. The investor doesn’t have all day to wait around for me. I need to leave now. Shit. SHIT!
Moisture stings the backs of my eyes, and there’s not enough saliva in my mouth to quench my palate and afford me a swallow. A lightheadedness—brought forth by a gross accumulation of guilt—swipes my balance, forcing me to rely on the edge of the table in front of me.
“Mom, I…”
I can’t. I’m sorry?
I’m on my way?
Whatever I choose to do, I’m going to hurt Fulton or my parents in the process.
Please don’t make me choose. I can’t. I don’t want to let anyone down. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Maybe it’s all my fault for agreeing to go on this trip. If I hadn’t left, this wouldn’t even be a dilemma. I would already be there to sign the paperwork, and disappointing my parents wouldn’t even be an option.
The Reapers family have been nothing but kind to me—they’ve shown me that there’s more to life than spreadsheets and soufflés. But my family is…myfamily. My parents have spent their whole lives raising a hard worker, and I’d be spitting in their faces if I abandoned them in their time of need. It’s not just my parents’ future that I have to think about…it’s mine too.
I take another second to really think about my decision, and then, with a burr in my throat and a cry on the verge of being ripped from my chest, I seal my fate with four simple syllables. “I’m on my way.”
My mother begins to shower me in gratitude, but I hang up abruptly, partly because I can’t stand marinating in what I’vejust done, and partly because I’m halfway to throwing up my breakfast. I need to get my stuff and get out. My things are mostly packed since we leave tomorrow, so that’s one less thing to do.
I move toward the bedroom on autopilot, and I begin gathering my belongings as the tears fester. I want to sob and break down in Fulton’s arms; I want to cling to him for strength; I want to beg him for help, but there’s no time, and I’ve expended the grace that’s been shown to me.
“Hey, Sunshine, does this look okay? Rolled cuffs or?—”
One look at me and Fulton’s words die a swift death.
I don’t look at him—I can’t, or I’ll flood the room with tears. All I do is zip up my backpack and grab my carry-on in complete silence, the periodic clack of my sandals entirely discomforting.
“Shiloh, what’s going on?” Fulton asks quietly.
This isn’t you, Shiloh. You don’t abandon your friends. Fulton’s done so much for you, and this is how you repay him? He took you on a surprise date, he held you when you cried, he’s been there every time you’ve needed him. And now, when he needs you, you just vanish?
And what about Aeris? Aeris didn’t have to make you a bridesmaid, but she did, because she truly, from the bottom of her heart, loves you. She took you under her wing, invited you to hang out with her friends, included you in the most important day of her life, and you don’t even have the guts to say goodbye. You should be ashamed of yourself. You took advantage of these kind people.
You can never just let work go, can you? It’s going to control your life. You’relettingit control your life. And the worst part is, you’restillchoosing to betray your friends even after knowing the consequences. You’re going to lose them all. Fulton’s never going to forgive you for this. You know that, right?
“I’m sorry, Fulton. I have to go,” I say, evading the pain-soaked stare I know is waiting for me, my hand clampedaround the suitcase handle despite the burn of doubt swirling through my veins.
Vertigo nips at my brainstem, spinning the ground that feels as flimsy as paper mâché underneath my feet, one wrong move foreshadowing a plummet through thousands of deposited layers.
I don’t need to look at Fulton’s face to pick up on the betrayal tempering his tone. “Shiloh, what’s going on?” he repeats.
