Page 103 of Love You Madly

Luke:

God, I would pay to be a fly on the wall at that little get-together. Wrong side of the family, though.

Me:

Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it. But at this point, I kind of can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s face. And I mean… It is a public place. If you guys want to go to Cedar Bluff tomorrow and meet my girlfriend, then I’m not stopping you.

In response, Vince sends aCelebrate good times, come on!GIF and I nearly howl with laughter.

Will:

About time you found someone who makes you feel that way. Just don’t screw it up by singing to her.

I laugh again, feeling a weight lift off my chest. Their jokes are exactly what I need, but their support means even more.

Me:

Yeah, she’s amazing. I just don’t want to mess this up.

Vince:

Or, you know, don’t. Seriously man, you got this.

As the conversation peters out, I set my phone down, trying to focus on the TV again. But nothing holds my interest. The anticipation of seeing Callie tomorrow is like a current running through me, impossible to ignore, and every time I close my eyes, I see her smile, hear the softness in her voice.

By the time the late afternoon sun starts casting long shadows across the room, my phone buzzes again. I glance down, half expecting more nonsense from the guys when I see Callie’s name on the screen.

Callie:

Hey, handsome! I’m finally off work. What are you up to?

A slow grin spreads across my face, the kind that starts in my chest and works its way up, warming me from the inside out. I quickly type out a response, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts.

Me:

Not much, just hanging out. Why, what’s up?

Callie:

Just curious. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve been thinking about it all day.

That was a great song, by the way. I had never heard it before.

Me:

I’m glad you liked it.

Callie:

Love it.

Me:

Oh yeah?

There’s something about waiting for her reply that fills me with sweet, almost unbearable anticipation. The seconds tick by, each stretching out, making the silence between us feel tantalizing and torturous. I keep my phone in hand, the screen lighting up briefly before fading back into darkness, mirroring the way my thoughts flicker between excitement and uncertainty.

She doesn’t reply right away, and I try to convince myself that it’s because she’s busy—probably picking up Sara from her mom’s or maybe caught up in some last-minute task. Still, that little seed of doubt lingers, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. I try to shake it off, reminding myself that she has a life too, and it doesn’t revolve around our every text.

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