“Have a good flight, man.” I open the door and get out, pulling my bag out with me. Before I close the door, I lean my head back into the backseat.
“So just show up?”
“Just show up,” he grins back at me. “Oh–and if she ever asks if she’s being crazy, the answer is ‘no.’ She’s never acting crazy. It’s always the other person’s fault.”
I thank him again and shut the door. As I head to the airport entrance, I send him a one thousand dollar tip on my phone.
Chapter 29
Maggie
“He was just GONE?”
Betty sits on the kitchen floor with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. She’d just popped in to change into sweats after having dinner with Josh and found me on the floor.
Before I even opened my eyes this morning, I knew exactly where I was. I felt the soft sheets against my skin, smelled Callum on my pillow and smiled to myself.
It really happened.
But blinking my eyes open, I realized that I was alone. I touched the other side of the bed and found it cold. I got up and quickly dressed in my discarded clothes from the night before. Part of me still expected to find my handsome host making coffee in his stainless steel kitchen, but he wasn’t there. The condo was eerily silent, in fact. The clock on the stove said 8:16 a.m. That is the latest I’ve slept in weeks. Knowing my first appointment is at nine I found my phone and located my discarded underwear which was still on the floor where I left it. Where he left it, I guess.
His flight. Of course, he had an early morning flight. I felt a bit relieved by this realization, but not entirely. I was surprised that he didn’t wake me to let me know he was leaving. Maybe he sent me a message? I checked my phone to see if he’d texted me, but found the only new message was from June.
Making sure I had everything I ordered an Uber and got ready to leave, trying and failing not to think about everything that happened last night. In the elevator I looked myself over in the reflective walls. I looked fine. My curls were a bit wild, but I found a scrunchie in my bag and gathered them up into a quick bun. My dress wasn’t a wrinkled mess, I didn’t look like I just rolled out of someone else’s bed. So why did it feel like the ultimate walk of shame?
The doorman smiled at me when I exited the elevator and I smiled back, but hurried to the exit. I froze when I reached it.
“Umm, excuse me,” I said to him, my face turning several shades of red. “I just left Callum Gallagher’s place, but I didn’t have a way to lock up after myself.”
He smiled warmly at me. “Mr. Gallagher already messaged me. I will lock it now that you’re on your way out. Have a nice day, Ms. Morales.”
“Thank you,” I flushed, still a bit stunned. I left the building and waited for my drive.
So Callum had messaged his doorman, but not me. Interesting.
The rest of the day went by quickly. I had back-to-back clients booked until three and barely had time to get a coffee and a granola bar into me. I kept checking my phone for a message from Callum, but it never came. When my clients were finished, I came straight home and threw myself into soap making. I measured and weighed and poured and rid my mind of everything except the task at hand. I managed to get three batches done and set on my own over the next few hours. When I’d finally gotten the last pot cleaned, I stripped off my gloves and goggles, sat down on the floor and cried.
I love a good cry. Maybe that’s why I was always drawn to sad books. Crying is a release for me. I’m like a sponge that can only absorb so much before I have to be wrung out.
So that’s what I do. I sit here, back against the fridge, knees pulled up to my chest, and I cry.
I cry because I feel displaced. I’m so grateful to Betty for giving me this safe haven, but it’s not really mine. All of my things are here, but I’m a visitor. I don’t actually belong here.
I cry because Mark’s reappearance affects me more than I’ve let on. I hate how he looked at me and how he made me feel. I was weak when I was with him and I don’t want to feel that way again. But I hate even more how a tiny part of me wonders if my life would have been easier if I had stayed. Sometimes I feel like my world has just been one upheaval after another since I left.
I cry because even though I’m excited about expanding the soap business, I’m completely overwhelmed. I used to worry about not being successful, but what if it’s too successful? What if too many people take me up on what I’m offering and I can’t deliver?
I cry because I miss my mom. I would give anything, absolutely anything to have her sitting next to me on this hard tile floor. To feel like I wasn’t carrying all of this on my own. I want her to put her arms around me and rub my back. Kiss the top of my head and sing to me like she used to.Ooooh child, things are going to get easier. Ooooh child, things will get brighter.
I cry because I am in love with a man who doesn’t love me back. I love Callum. I love him so much that I physically ache. I love how he looks at me and how he makes me laugh. I love how he listens to me when I talk and asks me what I want. I love how I feel safe around him, like I could say or do anything without fear of disapproval or judgment. I love how he touches me and every feeling he evoked in me last night.
I cry because he was honest with me about what he wants and doesn’t want, and I went and fell in love with him anyway.
And that is how my best friend finds me when she comes home. Sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.
After making sure I wasn’t hurt physically, she gets a box of tissues for me to wipe my eyes and nose. When she asks if I want to move to the couch, I just shake my head, so she settles herself on the floor with me. She puts her arms around me and just lets me cry.
When I finally run out of tears, she grabs two spoons and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Chunk from the freezer. We pass it back and forth while I tell her everything, ending with my night with Callum and waking up alone.
