Page 57 of Sunsets & Slow Dances

“Because I don’t, and it’s none of my business.”

“Oh, okay, sure. Tell your face that.”

“What?”

Zoe’s arm reached across the console and flipped my sun visor down. I looked at my reflection and saw the green-eyed monster staring back at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zoe smiling.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“I don’t, actually. You know I’ve always said that you two had unfinished business. I think now is your chance to finish it.”

“What’s the point? I don’t even know how long he’s staying in town,” I argued. “I don’t thinkheknows how long he’s staying. His relationship status with his baby mama isit’scomplicated. I don’t have any idea how he feels about me. We haven’t comecloseto talking about anything from the past.”

“See…” Zoe leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “Like I said, unfinished business. Call me later. Love you.”

Zoe got out of the car and practically floated up to her house on cloud nine. Having a front-row seat to Zoe’s fairytale HEA after so many years of heartbreak should inspire optimism in me, but I’d never been one of those glass-half-full girls. I lived in the real world, where pessimism reigned supreme—where life wasn’t fair and bad things happened to good people.

Over the years, I’d tried to change my way of thinking by reading countless self-help books, watching TED talks, listening to podcasts, and even trying hypnosis, but my Debbie Downermother had engrained her negativity into me so deeply it was embedded in my DNA. It was not second nature; it wasfirstnature, my instinct, my go-to response.

Instead of inspiring me, witnessing all of my friends with their golden ticket to happily-ever-after didn’t restore my faith and give me hope; it did the opposite; it made me feel like it was never going to happen for me.

Growing up, I’d seen evidence that there was a finite amount of love. Whenever my mom didn’t have a boyfriend, she had more time for me and noticed I was around. When she did have a boyfriend, I didn’t exist. If that was the case, then it stood to reason if other people had true love, then the rest of us were shit out of luck.

Just like fossil fuel, love was a non-renewable resource that was being depleted. I was convinced that all the good love juju was getting used up, so every couple who found their soulmate meant I lost a chance at finding my own. That was how the balance of the universe worked. The yin and yang of good and evil. It wasn’t a rational way to think, and I hated and was ashamed that that’s what I felt, but it was true.

So yes, I was happy for all my friends, but also deeply depressed and discouraged about my future.

As I drove back home, the sight of Kendra hugging Callum and then petting him on his chest kept playing over in my mind. Thanks to Zoe, that obsessive thought now had a friend to join the fixation party at the dysfunctional disco playing in my mind, hosted by my insecurities. It was Ariana, in lingerie, asking Callum in for a nightcap—playing on a delusion loop. I’d also heard, through the Firefly Elementary gossip grapevine, that Leanne Lyons was making a play for Callum. Her goal was to secure him as her Valentine. The thirst trio were not the only women swirling in the jealousy storm that clouded my thinking. Felicity was also causing a great deal of unrest inmy subconscious. How could she not? She was Matty’s mom and Callum’s fiancée. He said they weren’t together, but as of yesterday, she wasstillposting videos purporting to be engaged.

I hadn’t been jealous in years—ten years to be exact. The only person who caused that particular emotion to rear its ugly head was Callum Knight. Which was one of the many reasons I’d known we needed to end things. We brought out the worst in each other.

Or at least, in me. If he’d stayed in Firefly, we wouldn’t have had a healthy, happy relationship. We would have continued our toxic cycle of getting together and then breaking up. He would have ended up resenting me for having to give up his career, and we would have been miserable.

At least, that’s what I told myself all the lonely, sleepless nights I’d spent. All the times I’d wondered if I’d made the biggest mistake in my life by not telling Callum the truth instead of letting him believe I slept with Jerry Clemons. All the countless hours I’d spent imagining what our lives would have been like if I’d lethimdecide what he wanted to do instead of making that decision for him.

The girls wanted me to come clean, but I knew it was too late now. That ship had sailed. Even if I told him the truth today, it wouldn’t matter. He would never trust me again. I hurt him. It might not have been the hurt he thought it was, but it was still a betrayal. Callum hated liars. He always had, but after what he’d found about his dad, I’m sure that aversion had only grown.

When I pulled up to my house, I was surprised to find Callum’s truck sitting out in front. He must have come back to work after lunch. Part of me was glad he was there because I was psycho, and if he was here, that meant he wasn’t with Ariana, Kendra, or Leanne.

Another part of me—the sane part—wasn’t thrilled that he was here. I needed to get my emotions under control. Tomorrowwas Sunday, and I had a conference in Savannah that I had to leave for at seven in the morning, and I would be gone until late tomorrow night. If he weren’t at my house right now, I would be able to avoid seeing him until Monday evening at the earliest. By that time, I should be able to get this completely irrational jealousy under control.

I needed to get over Callum. I’d spent too much time living in denial because it was easier than reality. Now, that wasn’t an option. He was here. We were not anything more than friends. If we were going to be, he would have been in contact with me after we all went out for pizza, but he hadn’t. The only reason he’d shown up at my house today was because it was his job.

It was time for me to have a come-to-Jesus moment with myself and grow up. In the immortal words of Taylor Swift, I’m not a princess, and this isn’t a fairytale. I’m not the one he’s going to sweep off my feet. This isliterallya small town; it isnotHollywood. So to sum up, this was the real world, and it was time for me to stop pretending that I’d had this grandiose, epic, profound, Romeo and Juliet romance where I’d sacrificed my own happiness to give him the life he deserved. The reality was we were childhood sweethearts who broke up. Three years later he started dating someone else, who he has a child with and is engaged to. I had to let all of the stories I’d built up in my head, the cosmic connection we shared, go.

I needed to build up some walls of protection if we had a chance of being friends. Otherwise, I was either going to make myself crazy or it would destroy me. So, as my mama used to love to tell me, it was time for me to suck it up, Buttercup.

It was not going to happen overnight. I would have to deprogram my brain from the beliefs I’d held true about who Callum was to me. There was no way that was going to happen in the next thirty seconds it took me to get from my car to my front door. This was going to have to happen in phases.

Step one, I had to mask the way I was feeling. Something I’d never been particularly skilled at doing. Especially when it came to Callum. I might be able to hide my emotions from other people, but I could never do that with him. He saw me—really saw me.

From the moment we met, Callum and I were aligned; we were on the same wavelength. If I was a frequency, he was the only person who had ever been in tune with me. Other people might get some of the signal some of the time, with sporadic static interference. But Callum’s reception was crystal clear, no static, no white noise. All I could do was cross my fingers, toes, and eyes and hope that our years apart had dulled his reception.

So step one was going to be a doozy, but I’d never backed down from a challenge in my life, and I had no plans on starting now.

My heart was breaking and racing as I got out of the car and made my way up the porch steps. I took several deep, cleansing breaths, trying to center myself. When I got to the door, I relaxed my face, hoping to create a neutral expression before I opened it. I put in my key with my game face on, turned the knob; stepped inside, and only made it two feet before Peanut came barreling down the hall; coming to a sliding stop at my feet. Grateful not only to see my bundle of unconditional love but also for the distraction, I bent down to give him scritches behind his ear. I was telling him what a good and handsome boy he was when I heard footsteps in the hallway. Brown Timberland work boots came into view, and I knew I couldn’t prolong this any longer. I just had to act normal and not think about Kendra climbing him like a tree.

Stay strong.

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