Page 14 of Operator
“Well, since we’re both up, I guess we should clear the air once and for all.” Her hands are wrapped around her body like she’s afraid of falling apart.
I brace myself for more of her heat, her ire, but she only seems exhausted. If I’d been worried about wanting her before, it’s worse now that I can see how hard she’s trying to hold it together. I want to pull her into my arms and tell her she doesn’t always have to be so damn strong.
I lift a brow and she continues, “I was mad when I saw you. When you came back. I was mad because you weren't here for the funeral. Because you didn't get to say goodbye to Ian. And maybe for other things.” This is as close as she's ever gotten to bringing up what had happened between us. “But I owe it to your parents, to Ian, and to this baby to make my peace with our past. Maybe forgive isn't the right word because frankly I'm still pissed at you. But I can at least be cordial to you when we run into each other. Or try to be.” She makes a point to meet my eyes. “But that's all that will ever be between us. You’re family. I owe him that much.”
If there was ever any moment where she was drawing a line in the sand, then this was it. But the fact that she's drawing it means she realizes there’s something here she needs to protect herself against.
I could press her. I know all the moves to make her weak. I know all the things she likes best. After all, I taught them to her.
Maybe there's a shred of humanity left in me because I don't get up from the chair across the room. I don't take her mouth the way I want to. I don't put my hands on those curves.
Instead, I deliberately change the subject because she wants me to agree to her terms, but there’s no way in hell that’ll ever happen. I may have thought coming back would have been a temptation I’d have to endure, but to hell with it. I’ll revel in it instead. She thinks she doesn’t need anyone. Well, I’m gonna make it clear that what she needs is me.
“Who's that guy you were with at the diner today?” I ask. “You looked pretty cozy together.”
I know it makes me a jerk, but it’s worth it to see her eyes flash. “This is not the time. More importantly, is it any of your business?”
“I didn't say it was. I'm just asking.”
She straightens her shoulders. “That's William. He was Ian's therapist.”
A spear of cold stabs into the center of me. Ian having a therapist feels like something I should have known. But Ian and I weren’t open about our feelings in that way. Most of our communication was through text and the majority were memes we sent back and forth. He never said anything about being depressed. I hate to think even if I'd known I wouldn't have done anything. But the truth is, I was so wrapped up in my own shit, I'm afraid I would have ignored him. But I don’t say that.
“What was he doing at the diner?”
“He's going to a new duty station and was telling me goodbye.”
“How nice of him.”
Gwen rolls her eyes at me. “I'm not getting into this with you. All I wanted to say was I think it's best if we try to be civil to each other.”
Civil. I almost snort. “I think I can manage that.” For now.
She hesitates for a second, then says, “Alright then. I'll leave you to it. Goodnight, Cal.”
“Goodnight.”
I won't lie, I watch her walk away. I’ve gotten pretty good at watching her walk away. Maybe I’m even starting to enjoy it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
GWEN
At work the next day,all I can think about is Ian. I wish I could talk to him. He’d know what to do about Cal. About his father. He was always the levelheaded one of us both. The truth is, I don’t know how to do any of this by myself. Soon there’ll be a baby in addition to everything else. How am I supposed to raise a baby without him?
Suck it up, Gwen.You’re supposed to be a strong, independent woman.
“Order up!” comes Johnny's jovial voice.
I pull myself away from my thoughts and focus on work. Callum hovers in my peripheral the way he used to hover in my thoughts. He’s been here all morning doing assessments on the appliances and muddling through invoices and orders. Truly, I think he enjoys irritating me. And because he can’t stand to be alone while his parents are still at the hospital. I hate that I am so sensitive to his presence. Maybe it’ll be like when I was allergic to eggs as a child and my parents had to expose me to it in increasingly bigger doses.
If he’s here long enough, I’ll get used to being around him, right?
Phyllis sidles up to me and nudges me with her shoulder. “Do you think he's single?”
Laughter bubbles up in my throat. “Callum? He's pathologically single.”
Phyllis gives him a considering glance. He's ten years younger than her, but she is a helpless flirt recently off her second divorce and on the hunt for husband number three. I don’t fault her, though. She’s sweet and kind to a fault. Who am I to judge her personal life? It’s not like mine’s so perfect.
