Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
He wouldn’t like that, so I take the easy way out. “I didn’t want to spend the holiday alone, after all.”
“But you’re back for good? Not just for the weekend?”
“I meant what I said. I plan to sell the house, and I'm here to stay.”
He nodded, slowly sipping his coffee. “You know, you could rent it out. Make some passive income every month. It wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“I’ve considered that.”
“Of course, you have. I know you look at things from every angle before you make a decision.”
Normally, his praise would be welcome. Right now, it feels too much like he's trying to appease me. He’s happy I’m back – I should be grateful for that, right? He’s ready to say whatever needs to be said so long as I stick around.
“I appreciate everything you did to keep the place for me. Making sure the maintenance was taken care of when I was busy with other things. I hope you don’t see this as ungratefulness.”
“I don’t. And I would never force you to keep it. It’s your house, you can do whatever you want.” He uses his fork to cut off a bite of pie, his lips pursed. “It’s weighing you down, isn’t it?”
“I think that’s a good way to describe it, yeah. It’s weighing me down.”
“I’m glad for you, really.” When I lift an eyebrow, he adds, “You seem centered. In a good place.”
Since that’s perhaps the opposite of how I feel, it’s a struggle to keep from laughing. Callum means well, and he’s not good at these heart-to-heart talks. Neither am I. Amazingly, we’ve gotten more than three words out between us. If we were discussing work, there’d be no stopping us. When it comes time to talk about something real, we’re both at a loss.
Even if I could find the words, I couldn’t tell him. “I see a lot of things differently. I think I needed the time there.”
“Then, as much as I missed having you here, I’m glad you went. And there I was, worrying it was a bad idea for you.”
“It wasn’t easy, although it was necessary.”
He nods slowly as he chews. “I can see that.”
The whole time, I can’t shake the sense that we’re tiptoeing around the actual subject. At least, I am. He doesn’t know what I’ve struggled with over the longest four days of my life. How I woke up sweating like a man in the grip of withdrawal. In a way, that’s exactly what I was going through. I lost my drug of choice when Tatum walked out the door.
He can’t know that. He can never know it.
“I better go unpack. I only dropped my things off at the cottage before coming up here.” Standing, I take my mug to the sink and wash it out. The kitchen is spotless – no evidence of the massive feast that was prepared here today. Tatum insisted on helping Sheryl with the cleanup. I knew why. She couldn’t stand looking at me. I can’t say I blame her. “As usual, I’m available to review anything I missed while I was gone. We can catch up whenever you want.”
Callum only chuckles and shakes his head. “We’ve barely started digesting dinner, and already you want to get back to work.”
“You know me. A workaholic. It wasn't the same doing shit from all the way out there.”
“Nobody would blame you if you wanted to take some time to settle in again. It’s a holiday weekend – there’s no hurry.”
So this is Callum Torrio, family man. It’s not that I am not glad for him – it’s good to see him stepping back and enjoying life a little. He has every reason to. A new wife, a baby on the way, the whole thing. He also has enough money that he could choose to never work again and be just fine. So could his kids and his grandkids.
Nonetheless, I’m anxious as I leave the house, stepping into the chilly night. I need to work. I need a distraction, something to throw myself into. The temptation of having her near is going to wreck me otherwise.
I did it to myself by coming back, didn’t I? Seeing as the alternative was unthinkable. Living every day without her. Going back to a cold, empty house on Monday night after walking for hours. There was nobody there. Not a soul gave a shit where I was. There was nobody happy to see me come home. Even a small house can feel cavernous when there’s nobody else inside.
Callum’s glad I went out there? From where I’m standing as I enter the cottage and turn on the light, it might have been the worst possible move. Given that it showed me everything I’ve missed without knowing I was missing it. It took everything that once used to satisfy and sustain me and turned it on its head, shining a bright light on what my life became.