Page 63 of Since Always

It has been a long month and, mostly, I have thrown myself headfirst into work. I have gone to several functions because I had to, ducking out of each one the second I knew it was safe. I've had lunch with Dani a few more times—to her credit things have been pretty much normal since that awkward moment at my apartment. But, mostly, I have wanted to be alone.

My cell phone buzzes as I am about to step out of the office, and I am surprised to see Cass's name. We have texted a little over the past few weeks and had a couple of conversations on the phone, but we both seem to be making a conscious effort to pull back. This weekend is her birthday party in Denver; after Becca sent me an invitation, I messaged Cassidy to see if I should come. She replied that it wouldn't feel like her birthday if I wasn't there. I had my scheduler book my ticket right away, although I have since spent far too much time debating if I should cancel.

I sit down on the couch in my office, taking a large breath before I answer the call.

"Hey there," I say.

"Owen.” There is a wave of relief at the cheerfulness in her voice.

"Hi, everything okay?"

"Fine. Like always. Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?"

There is something in her voice, but I can't quite place it.

"No, of course not. It's always good to hear from you."

"Because you said," she says, drawing the words out a little too long, “that I could call you anytime, and that we were still friends."

"Cassidy?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I don't think I'm...Well, maybe, yeah."

I laugh and stretching my legs out before me, leaning back onto the sofa with a broad smile on my face. "It's only like...6:00 there. Why are you drunk at 6:00?"

"Well, Dad, if you must know; Becca and I spent the day by her pool and had a couple of cocktails."

"A couple?"

"I mean, I lost count."

I smile. It's nice to hear her happy.

"I'm glad you are having a good day, gorgeous," I say.

"Did you have a good day?"

"I had votes all day, and meetings crammed in between. It was excruciatingly boring."

"Poor guy," she says. "All work and no play." She pauses. "Well, maybe play. I guess I don't know much about your life."

"No play," I confirm, and I can't help but love the jealousy in her voice. "And you? Any play in your life?"

"What if I said yes? Would that bother you?"

I should deny it. I should put us back on safer ground, but she will know I'm lying, anyway. "It would. It shouldn't, but it would. But it's still okay if you say yes."

Silence.

"I miss you, Owen," she says. I can hear the sadness setting in. "I miss you so much sometimes that I can't breathe."

"I miss you too."

"I hate this. I hate how much I want to be with you, and how much I know you want to be with me. And I can't even tell you how much I hate this because that would be selfish of me. Because you're like, saving the world and I can't get in your way. But I'm dying without you. It hurts. It hurts so much." I can hear that she is crying now. She is messy drunk, and I know she is going to regret this tomorrow.

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