Page 40 of The Change Up
Me: Good Morning :)
10: 22 AM
Me: Missed you at the diner this morning. See you after my shift?
12:05 PM
Me: Cody? Are we still meeting?
4:43 PM
Me: Is everything okay? I’m sorry for calling so many times, but I’m worried.
The next day.
4:12 AM
Me: Did I do something?
Three days later…
8:35 AM
Me: So I’m not even good enough for a response?
One week later…
10:02 PM
Me: Screw you, Cody Jacobs.
“I’m sorry for fucking everything up.”
Hanging my head between my arms, I glance over and find Chloe staring at me. Eyes squinted, mouth slightly ajar, her glare never leaves my face. I know I’m coming out of left field, but this apology is a long time coming.
“Is this about last night?” She whispers the question, embarrassment pinking her cheeks.
“No, it’s about everything. It’s about our summer and every encounter since, and me constantly fucking everything up.”
She scoffs as she presses her palms into the cushion as if she’s about to get up. Without thought, I reach across the couch and clutch her thigh. Her eyes snap to mine and down to where my hand is resting on her leg. “Please, Chloe.”
Brushing my hand off her, she stands and begins pacing back and forth in the open space between the coffee table and their TV stand. Every few seconds she glances up at me with an expression I can’t quite read. I want to know what’s going through her head. I want to know what she’s feeling, but she’sclammed up like a goddamn locked box, and I’m stuck sitting here watching her process. Or short circuit. I can’t quite tell.
“Chlo—”
Her eyes snap to mine. “Don’t.”
Pursing my lips together, I lean back into the cushion and wait. An awkward silence falls over the room as her pacing continues.
“You’ve had two years to apologize, and you haven’t said anything. Why now?” Her pacing stops, and her hands find her hips as she stares me down.
“I don’t know why now, but I never should have let it get to this point.”
She scoffs. “You think? You ghosted me.”
Chloe practically screams “ghosted,” and I sure hope Brynn is busy on the phone with Quinton because all of our dirty laundry is about to be shared right here, right now.
“For weeks you ate in my diner. You were supposed to pick me up from my shift. But instead, you left me unanswered for a week. A week I spent trying to figure out what I did. How I wasn’t good enough for you. Wondering if something had happened to you.”
