Page 124 of Billion Dollar Dispute

I can tell she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “He misses you. He wants to play at the courts with you again. He says he needs practice.”

“I bet it was hard to tell him you wouldn’t call.”

She looks over at me, her eyes a little sad. “It was.”

I keep my eyes on the road, but I feel her words sinking in. This isn’t just about me apologizing. It’s about figuring out how we can move forward together.

“I want us to communicate better,” I say. “I don’t want to hide anything from you. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything, even when it’s hard.”

“I agree. I can’t keep holding back either. But we need to be honest, even if it might hurt the other person.”

“No more keeping secrets,” I promise. “And with that being said, I need to tell you I reported Danny to the Police.”

Her lips twist, and she glances at me from the corner of her eye. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I believe we’re actually moving forward.

Just then, my phone rings. It’s Oliver. I tried calling him earlier.

“Are you still moping around?” he asks.

A little giggle escapes Jemima’s mouth.

“I’m not moping,” I reply.

“You didn’t come to play poker this week, and at Grams’s, you sat there looking salty as fuck.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Jemima’s laugh grows louder.

“Jemima, are you in the car with him?” Oliver asks.

“Hi, Oliver,” she says, amused.

“Fucking hell. I’m a dead man. Listen, Jemima, please forgive him. He’s been a fucking bitch to be around lately.”

“Alright, Oliver, I’m going now,” I cut him off before he can say any more.

“I was returning your call,” he reminds me.

“Yeah, about work. Not so you could tell Jemima what a loser I’ve been. Way to go, dickhead.”

“You’ll get over it,” he says with a chuckle.

“Bye.” I’ll call him back later about the new gallery.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Jemima teases.

“You mean humiliating.”

“I think it helped.”

“You mean being called out is better than me telling you?” I raise an eyebrow, giving her a look.

She sighs. “I need actions, not words. So Oliver dropping that bomb tonight was perfect.”

“I’ll call him back,” I offer, reaching for the phone again.

“No, I just mean… I get that you’re sorry, but as much as I want to believe you, it’s hard. I’m trying to learn to accept it.”

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