Page 65 of Love You Madly

Listen, I have a good reason. I watched Dennis the Menace when I was a kid and Christopher Lloyd is terrifying in that movie. I don’t think I can handle him as some sort of spastic Doc!

Me:

You wound me!

Callie:

Good thing you’ve got that nurse to take care of you now…

Ouch.

Callie:

I’m just teasing. Thanks for listening, Owen. I appreciate you.

I glance at the screen for a second, then type out my reply.

Me:

Ditto.

I set the phone down, feeling a heaviness settle in my chest. The weight of the day, the uncertainty, and the mess I’ve created with Callie—it all presses down on me. I close my eyes, knowing that no matter how I spin it, someone’s going to get hurt.

twenty-five

SAY SOMETHING - A GREAT BIG WORLD FEAT. CHRISTINA AGUILERA

CALLIE - JUNE 14, 2013

As I slip into my little black dress, a tingle of excitement rushes through me, mixing with the nervous flutter in my stomach. The early summer evening bathes my room in golden light, warming everything it touches, but my thoughts feel anything but calm. I pair the dress with my gray Chuck Taylors—casual but comfortable, a reminder that I’m keeping things light. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. Tonight is going to be good. Right? It has to be. But the truth is, I’m not sure I’m ready for this–ready to be vulnerable with him all over again.

Matt arrives right on time, his familiar smile instantly soothing my nerves. But it’s also unsettling. I can’t ignore the years between us, the weight of history, the questions still lingering in the back of my mind. We share a hug—warm, easy, like falling back into something we both know too well. I want to trust this moment, trust him. But is it really that simple?

The drive to the restaurant is filled with easy conversation, a little too easy. We laugh about the old days, as if the time apart hadn’t left cracks in our story, as if the past was nothing but teenage rebellion and first loves. But beneath the laughter, I feel the pressure building, the unspoken questions—can this really work again?

The restaurant is buzzing with activity, the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation surrounding us. The scent of freshly baked bread fills the air, creating a cozy ambiance, but I’m not sure if I’m really here, really present. The flickering candles on the table feel too intimate, too romantic for the emotional rollercoaster spinning inside me.

As we reminisce over dinner, everything feels perfect on the surface. Matt’s smile, his laugh—they’re just as I remember, but something’s changed. Or maybe I’ve changed. I can’t help but think about the past—how we tore each other apart and how much harder I had to fight to put myself back together. He brings up stories of concerts we barely made it to, nights we spent wrapped in teenage dreams, but I find myself drifting, wondering if I’m setting myself up to relive old heartbreak.

By the time dessert arrives, I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of something dangerous. The way Matt looks at me—it’s almost too familiar, too comfortable. His eyes linger on mine, and I can feel the pull, the temptation to fall back into him, into what we once had. But can I trust it?

After dinner, we walk through the park where we used to spend hours together, our hands brushing against each other’s. The moonlight reflects off the pond, casting shadows across the path, and I feel the weight of every step. My heart races as Matt turns to me, his voice soft, vulnerable.

“I’ve missed this, pretty girl,” he says, his eyes searching mine. “I know things were complicated back then, and I getwhy your mom hated me. But I’ve always wondered... What if?”

His words hit me like a tidal wave. I’ve asked myself that same question a million times. But as he leans in, our lips meeting in a slow, lingering kiss, I’m torn. It feels familiar, almost too familiar. Like a trap disguised as comfort. My body responds, but my mind won’t stop screaming at me to slow down.

Back at my apartment, the pull to invite him inside gnaws at me, but I resist. I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing before I let things spiral. I’m not ready to fall back into old patterns, not ready to tear myself apart again for the sake of an almost love.

The next day, I’m dying to tell Brooke and Taylor everything, to pick apart the night and see if they can help me make sense of this chaos. We meet atBrooked & Brewedafter closing, and the second the door locks behind the last customer, I feel a wave of relief. This is my safe space.

Brooke, always the instigator, comes back with a bottle of wine, some cider and three coffee mugs, setting the tone for the night. “Alright, spill,” she says, her eyes lighting up with curiosity as she hands me a mug. “What happened with Matt?”

“It was great,” I start, but my voice betrays me. The words sound hollow, unsure. “We had dinner, a walk around the pond, and... we kissed.”

Brooke’s face lights up, but Taylor catches the hesitation in my voice. “And?”

I sigh, staring into my mug of sparklingcider. “And... I don’t know. It felt good. Too good, maybe. But is it real, or am I just falling back into something because it’s easy?”

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