Page 20 of Love You Madly

The thought of moving out of Mom’s house and into my own space is both exhilarating and terrifying. It’s my first real taste of independence—living alone for the first time in my life. Well, technically, not alone since I’ll have Sara, but still, the reality that I won’t have another adult around is daunting. I stand outside the yellow brick building that’s about to become my home, my heart a mix of excitement and anxiety.

When I found out the apartment was available, I was thrilled. It’s only a couple of blocks from the coffee shop, and I’m terrible about getting exercise, so the proximity gives me an excuse to walk on nice days. The apartment itself is small—a one-bedroom that I plan to make work by sectioning off part of the living room to give Sara her own “room.”

But despite my efforts to feel optimistic, there’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. This will be the first time I’m entirely on my own. No man, no family,just me… and Sara. A wave of fear hits me, and I make a mental note to find my old baseball bat in Mom’s attic. Maybe that will help calm the gnawing anxiety. I’ve done all the “right” things for a single woman to feel secure—installed extra locks, picked an apartment in a relatively safe neighborhood—but my paranoia never lets me rest. The truth is, I’ve always been afraid of the dark.

I still remember running from the car to Mom’s farmhouse at night, especially with the nearby train tracks echoing through the fields. Every time the train rumbled by, I’d picture that scene fromDennis the Menacewhere the creepy drifter played by Christopher Lloyd promises to take Dennis hostage on the midnight train. I know it’s irrational, but some childhood fears never quite go away.

The movie came out when I was three years old and since Taylor knew it terrified me growing up, she would slice apples with a paring knife and eat the slices straight off the blade like a fucking psycho just like he did in the movie.

But yeah, I’m sure living alone is going to go great.

I unlock the door, and a wave of nostalgia hits—though not the good kind. This is the same apartment I used to hang out in during high school, partying with guys who had no business spending time with teenage girls. Back then, this place was a symbol of rebellion. Now, it’s a symbol of something entirely different—my stubbornness to refuse more help from Mom and Wayne, my determination to make this work on my own, even if it gives me the creeps.

I start unpacking for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few months. Clothes go into the closet, furniture is arranged, and I do my best to make the space feel like a home. But the walls are thin. I can already hear my upstairs neighbors stomping around, and I realize this place might come with more challenges than I bargained for. Still, it’s a steppingstone, a temporary situation until I can save enough for something better. It’ll do for now.

The first month at the coffee shop flies by. Brooke’s a great boss, and the work is a welcome distraction. It feels good to be busy again, to have a routine, and I start to recognize the regulars, remembering their orders and making small talk. I still feel guilty for moving out of the farmhouse so quickly, especially since Mom and Wayne have been so generous about watching Sara. But I need this space, this chance to rebuild.

Today, I’m heading to my first OB/GYN appointment with my new doctor. The thought makes me both nervous and hopeful. As I fill out the paperwork, my hand shakes slightly as I sign my name—still Adam’s last name for now. I’ve been debating whether to keep it for the kids’ sake, but the weight of it feels heavy.

“Callie Graham?” a nurse calls, and I follow her back to the examination room. Dr. Everett is kind, with a reassuring smile that puts me at ease. She asks me about my medical history and how I’ve been feeling. We discuss my plans and the importance of prenatal care.

Adam offered to come with me to this appointment but I wanted to be able to speak freely with the doctor and I wouldn’t have been able to do that with him here. I assured him that I would make sure I kept him informed of appointments and that he could still come with me when we get to the point where we are going to find out the biological sex of the baby. Thankfully, he didn’t fight me too hard on it and offered to keep Sara overnight instead of her going to my mom’s.

I lie back on the examination table, she performs theultrasound. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat fills the room, a steady thump-thump that brings tears to my eyes. It’s real. This baby is real, and despite everything, I feel a sense of hope.

Leaving the clinic, I head back to the coffee shop for my shift. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets me as I step inside. Brooke waves from behind the counter, and I slip into the routine of taking orders and making drinks. I show Brooke the ultrasound pictures and we cry together a bit. The hours pass quickly, and before I know it, it’s closing time.

As I lock up and head back to my apartment, the noise from upstairs is already starting. I sigh, knowing I’ll have to talk to the landlord about it soon. But for now, I focus on the positive. I have a job I enjoy, a place of my own, and I’m doing what it takes to survive.

I flop onto my bed, exhausted from the day, grateful that Sara is staying with Adam tonight. As I stare up at the ceiling, I try to quiet my mind. There’s so much to figure out, but I’m determined to make this work. This is my new beginning, even if the road ahead feels long and uncertain.

I pull out my phone, mindlessly scrolling through social media to unwind. But my thumb freezes when I see his profile. My heart clenches as I notice the change in Adam’s relationship status—from “Married to Callie Graham” to “In a Relationship with Janelle VanPelt.”

The words blur as betrayal and anger course through me. I hadn’t expected this. I didn’t think Adam would make it public so soon. He didn’t even have the decency to unfriend me before broadcasting his new relationship to the world.

Their smug faces stare back at me from matching profile pictures—dressed up, smiling like they don’t have a care in the world. The comments beneath are a sickening mix of congratulations and heart emojis. My fingers tighten around my phone,and for a moment, I consider blasting him in the comments. But I won’t give him the satisfaction.

Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to cry. This isn’t just betrayal—it’s public humiliation. I take a deep breath, block them both, and quickly change my name on all my social media back to Callie Madden. If Adam wants to flaunt his new relationship, I’ll be moving on too. I immediately start searching for divorce attorneys.

But as the anger simmers, an idea forms. I need to get away. Put some distance between myself and this mess. My mind drifts to New Orleans, to Dad and Shelly. A trip might be exactly what I need.

Memorial Day weekend is coming up, and it feels like the perfect excuse. I call Brooke to make sure I’m not needed that weekend, and luckily, she has it covered. It’s settled. I’ll head to New Orleans. I just need to convince Taylor to come with me. I’ve never been great at long-distance driving, and Taylor is the queen of road trips.

As I crawl into bed, I shoot off a quick text to Dad and Shelly.

Me:

Are you guys up for Memorial Day weekend? Thinking about planning a trip down with Sara.

Dad:

We would love to have you both. Maybe Taylor could come with you?

Shelly:

That would be amazing, sweetie.

That was the easy part. Now I just need to convince Taylor. She’s always been the adventurous one, and I know she won’t pass up a chance for a road trip.

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