I know there was some awkwardness when we ran into Audrey, just like there is any time anyone runs into an ex. I don’t know how much that is playing into Charlie pulling back. I’d like to think it isn’t at all—I mean, there’s a reason Audrey and I broke up. When I brought it up on the drive back to Cipher Springs, Charlie said everything was good. And really, there is nothing concrete with any of my worries. It’s just a feeling.
I answer Luis by saying, “With everything. No one is going to stick around when things get tough.”
“And you anticipate things getting tough?”
“Seems to be the way things go.”
There haven’t been any signs—at least not signs that Luis would’ve seen—about things not going well for The Shadowridge. Really, there’s nothing concrete with that, either. Not besides a single super-quick break-in where nothing was stolen and nothing was damaged. They’re just hunches. But that leaves Luis to assume that I must be talking only about Charlie, because he leans back in his chair and asks, “Have you ever dated someone while on a job?”
I shake my head. “Charlie’s the first in a while. I’m kind of breakingmy own rule.”
“That because of all the moving around?”
“Yeah. New place, new project, new start. Feels easier to keep it simple.”
He nods like he gets it. “So…what happened with the last ones? Before Charlie.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What is this, therapy hour?”
He shrugs. “Hey, you’re the one who said you feel like everything’s about to fall apart. I’m just trying to figure out what ‘everything’ means.”
Fair. I blow out a breath. “Okay, well. With Audrey—who Charlie and I ran into yesterday—things were always kind of surface-level. Never got deep. Celeste… I think she mostly liked that I could fix things. It was less love, more free handyman.”
Luis snorts. “Oof.”
“Right? Then Lily. I was swamped with work and school, and started pulling back without meaning to. I figured she’d fight for us or at least ask what was going on. She didn’t. We just… faded out.
“And then there was Alina. We liked the same stuff, but we were heading in different directions, and neither of us wanted to course correct.”
Luis is quiet for a beat, then says, “So basically… either they weren’t really in it long-term, or you weren’t, which reinforced your belief that no one sticks around.”
I blink. “Wow. Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
He holds up a hand. “I’m just saying, now you’rewith someone who might actually stay, and your brain’s already halfway packed for the breakup.”
That hits a little too close to home. “You think I’m pushing Charlie away?” Am I? Is that why she’s pulling away? Or maybe she’s in the same place and I’m the one pulling away?
Luis shrugs. “I don’t know. But you should probably ask yourself that before she starts believing it too.”
I nod because I should. But not right here, and not right now. Whining to a friend about my fears is not the way I operate. I channel my normal self and paste on a smile. Not only does it generally keep me from conversations like this, but it usually makes me feel better, too.
I shut my laptop and stand. “Do you know what? Everything is going to be fine.” I clap Luis on the shoulder as he stands. “Everything works out in the end, so if it hasn’t worked out yet, it isn’t the end, right?”
Luis is looking at me like he doesn’t really trust that I am fine, but I keep my smile in place. “Come on. Let’s go home. You’ve got a great wife and daughter waiting for you.” Then we both head down the stairs, and I make sure the building is locked up tightly before I leave.
CHAPTER 27
PROCRASTINATION: IT’S NOT JUST FOR FRIDGE LEFTOVERS
CHARLIE
It’s Roommate Night, so as soon as Reese and I get home from work, we change. Me, into knit shorts and a t-shirt, and Reese into yoga pants and an oversized short-sleeved sweatshirt with the neckband cut out. Her pants are plum color and her sweatshirt is a lavender, yellow, and cyan plaid, which looks cute together, but they totally clash with the leopard-print glasses frames she’s still wearing.
And no, Roommate Night doesn’t mean watching romcoms while eating grocery store sushi and cookie dough by the spoonful. It means cleaning out the fridge that we ignored when we didn’t have a kitchen sink, and then going grocery shopping for food that is less… fuzzy. Reese takes the lid off something that’s been marinating in our fridge, and then shows it to me. “Any idea what this was?”
“I’m pretty sure it used to be some kind of vegetable. Now it’s a threat.”
Reese dumps it into the garbage we’ve got right between us. “This is what happens when we pretend leftovers are ‘future meals’ instead of fridge clutter with commitment issues.”
