Chapter 3

3

L IZ

I kiss Thea goodbye and slip out of the car before closing the door.

"I'll see you on Thursday," she says through the open window.

I freeze with my hand on my backpack.

"Thursday?"

"The wedding rehearsal?"

Her eyebrows slide up as she slightly shakes her head at me.

"Oh, yes. Sorry." I chuckle. "I forgot about that," I joke, although I did forget about it.

"How can you forget?"

"Go home," I say, laughing, and she wags her finger at me with a smile on her face before rolling the window up and moving away.

I watch the car rolling down the street and vanishing in the distance, and it all looks surreal.

I almost need to pinch myself to convince myself I'm looking at Thea. The girl who now has a girl and a boy and a handsome, loyal husband.

Pushing that thought back, I set myself in motion and walk a couple of blocks before I reach inside my backpack and scoop out my phone.

Holding my phone with one hand and unlocking the door with the other, I tap the screen and call Chloe.

"Hey," I say, pushing through and kicking off my shoes not far from the entrance.

She says nothing, and I get that feeling again that something bad has happened. Guilt spins inside my chest while I close the door, leave my backpack next to my shoes, and go straight to the kitchen.

"Chloe? Are you still there?"

"Yes… Yes, I am."

"What's going on?"

I notice how out of sync we are.

Now I wish I made a video call.

"Can I call you back?" I ask.

"No."

Man, she's in a bad mood.

I sit at the table in the kitchen, place the phone down, and put her on speaker.

"I left," she says evenly.

"Uh… What? You left someone? Like a man?"

"I left no one. Well… You, maybe. I flew out of the country. I'm in Madrid."

I fold in on myself like a melted candle.

Frankly, I have a hard time grasping what she's saying. And there are so many questions.

Why? Why would she do something so extreme?

Something really bad must've happened.

But before pondering that, I'm more concerned with the panic spinning in my chest.

Chloe has left?

That means it will only be me at the wedding.

Thea is… Well, she's the bride.

And Terry is… Well, she's my mother.

Chloe has always been that one special person in my life with whom I shared all the good and the bad of my existence.

I can only assume this wedding falls under the good things in my life.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice a whisper.

"Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad…" I say, perhaps too loudly. "Well, I am a little mad. Why did you do that? And why couldn't you talk to me? Does Thea know about that?"

"No."

"Oh…"

"Please don't do that."

I sigh.

How could I not sigh?

This is a disaster.

"I'm not doing anything, but what do you expect from me?" I say.

Her sigh is worse than mine, a mix of regret and powerlessness.

Mine was fueled by frustration and panic.

"Is this about that man?" I ask, ready to tell her what I have learned about the man who messed with her head.

"I don't want to talk about him."

She's firm, leaving no room for negotiation, yet I feel responsible for her. And telling her what I know about that man is a step of great importance.

"There's something new about that man," I say.

"I don't want to talk about him."

She sounds mad.

"Even if it's important?"

"I don't care how important it is. I don't want to know anything about that man."

"What did he do? Did you two meet again after last Sunday?"

"What part of ‘I don't want to talk about him' you don't understand?" she barks.

I go silent.

I've never seen her so riled up about something, and if she says he's not important, then he is not important.

"One last thing I need to ask, and then I'll leave you alone. Did he do something bad to you?"

A few moments pass while a variety of scenarios float in my head.

"He didn't do anything to me," she says after a while.

Maybe that's the problem, but I'm happy to hear that she's fine and I don't need to call the cops or something.

"Okay. Since we can't talk about him… How was your flight?"

"Uneventful."

"I'm glad to hear that. Did you miss me?"

My joke doesn't land.

"I want you to talk to Thea," she says sternly. "Honestly, I don't know what to tell her. The truth is, I don't want to run into that man again. He'll be at the wedding."

"Mm-hmm…" I say.

I knew they'd met again.

"I'm listening," I go on.

"That's it."

"So I can tell her whatever…?"

"Whatever makes sense, but nothing about him. It would look stupid if I told her the truth."

You think?

I bite my lip.

"The thing is… " she says in a softer voice. "Being with him in the same room would be a disaster. I can't hide from him at a wedding. And he might bring a plus–one."

"His ex?"

"I wasn't thinking about his ex. Another woman, maybe?"

Okay, so let me get this straight.

He doesn't matter, and she doesn't want to see him again.

Please make it make sense.

"Anything else?" I ask as if taking someone's food order at the restaurant.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For leaving like that without telling you or giving you the slightest warning."

I soften inside.

"Well… I could've called you as well."

"Yeah, maybe."

She doesn't sound so convinced my call would've gotten through.

"So, what do you plan to do this week?"

"What I usually do. Go to school, chat with my new friends, and think about where I want to go next."

"Uh… Is that something new? You've never talked to me about going someplace else. Is there something wrong with Spain?"

"Nothing is wrong with Spain, but I don't know. I'm not crazy about spending winter here."

I clear my throat.

"You didn't think there would be winter over there…?"

A smile lines my voice, and a small laugh rings at the other end of the line, and the Chloe I know is finally back.

"Never thought about it in detail."

We both chuckle, and I lean back, more relaxed.

"So when will I see you again?"

She ponders an answer.

"Will I see you again?" I joke.

"Yes. Of course you will. I'll be back for Christmas. I think. But maybe you can come here."

I push upright and slide my elbows onto the table.

"Come to Spain? Are you crazy? Why? How? What would I do over there?"

"Study? Write?"

"Sure. Because I'm doing that so well over here."

"No, no… I'm serious."

"I'm serious too. Can you envision me living in Madrid?"

"Yes. Why not?"

"I don't speak Spanish."

"Spanish is easy."

"What about going to school?"

"You can find a program or take a gap semester."

My ears perk up.

If the conversation hasn't fully grabbed my attention before, it does now.

I never thought about doing that.

In all honesty, there are many things I don't think about since I don't have a lot of money.

If there is one benefit to not having money, it's that I don't have to think about where I'm going next or what I'm doing next––it's about the only benefit I am aware of.

"What about money? I can't just idle by, doing nothing in Spain. You'd go to school. And I'd be like... What? Your chauffeur? Lady in waiting? Buttler?"

She chuckles.

"There's stuff you can do. First off, you should take a gap semester anyway to write your book."

I freeze, the silence thickening in the room before my forehead crashes against my folded arms lining the table, and laughter pours from my lips.

"You're crazy…" I say, still laughing. "I don't have two dimes to rub together. I just rented a new place. I work. I have a job in town, and you want me to take a gap semester, come to Spain, and write my book? What have you been smoking?"

"Listen, listen…" she says, and it dawns on me she's thought this through.

Me going to Spain.

"You can work remotely."

"Doing what?"

"Find a job that allows you to work from home. Like a virtual assistant. A freelancer. I don't know. Or you can find a job here."

"And I need to get a work visa, no?"

"You might. I could find a local employer to help you with the paperwork if that's the route you choose."

"Route I choose?? I wasn't even thinking about it before you brought it up."

"Think about it… It's not a bad idea."

She's relentless as always.

"Where did this whole idea come from? You haven't said a thing to me and now you suddenly want me there?"

"I didn't say anything to you because I knew you'd say no."

"You didn't say anything to me because you weren't sure you'd stay there the entire year."

"That's true," she says in a more mellow voice after pondering for a moment."It's not what I thought it would be."

"Come back."

"I'm not a quitter."

"This is not about quitting. You're not happy over there. Clearly… Then come back."

A few moments pass.

"Chloe?"

"I don't know. There are a few good things about studying overseas."

"Name one."

"Experiencing a different culture."

"Give me something that's not in a brochure. What's in it for you?"

"It's something new. I can get lost on the streets of Madrid. Imagine us hanging out. Eating tapas and drinking wine."

For a moment, I do that.

Not long ago, I thought I'd do that with Thea in Turkey. Only drinking Turkish coffee and eating Turkish bagels.

That didn't happen, and if I remember correctly, I was so damn sad when Thea left.

And now that Chloe has left––and she wants me there–– could that even be possible? To think about going there?

I don't know how far–fetched the idea is, but it gets me thinking.

It sounds complicated if you ask me, and I hate to complicate my life even more.

"I'll think about it," I say, trying to move away from the topic.

No one knows what will happen in a few months from now, so never say never.

"All right," she murmurs just as a message flashes across the screen.

"Uh…" I mumble, peering at my phone.

I was about to say something else, but now I'm completely distracted by the few words quickly popping up and vanishing.

David: Arriving at nine o'clock. Meet me at the hotel downtown. The car will pick you up at eight-thirty. Ask for the Blue Suite.

"Liz?"

"Yeah?"

The message is gone, so I tap the screen to read it again in the inbox.

"What did you want to say?"

"What was I saying?" I mumble, checking his message.

Downtown? Which one? There are two hotels downtown. One is closer to Red, the club. The other is farther away.

Well, the driver must know which one it is. Although The Blue Suite must be a clue as well.

I check the time. I have a couple of hours to get ready. Which is enough time. Or maybe not.

"What are you doing? " Chloe asks.

"I'm checking my work schedule."

"Aren't you supposed to be off from work this week because of the wedding?"

"Yes. Yes, I am… I am off from work," I say, trying to buy some time. "I'm also looking at my work schedule for next week. I have some catching up to do and take some of Clarissa's shifts."

She's buying it.

She believes my little white lie.

"Okay. I'll let you deal with that then."

My attention snaps back to her.

"No. I'm done with this. What were we talking about?" I murmur, struggling with guilt.

"You were thinking about my proposal."

Yeah, that's not going to happen.

I don't see how.

It's not only about the money.

I don't want to lose my job and break the lease to move to Spain in the middle of the winter.

No fucking way.

Chloe is going through a phase. I'm sure she'll be back home before I get the chance to pack my things up and leave.

She's coming home for Christmas. We'll talk then.

I'm sure she'll have a different view on life by then.

"Yes. I'll be thinking about your proposal. I'll think about it tonight."

No way.

"I'll take a shower, make myself a cup of tea, and think," I say, smiling.

"You're such a clown," she says, laughing,

"I am not. Seriously, I'll be thinking about it."

But mostly, I'm thinking about how to get under that gorgeous man again.

"Okay… Whatever."

"Get some sleep."

"Mind your own business."

I'm glancing at the time again. It must be two in the morning over there, but arguing with her is futile.

"Do whatever you want," I toss at her.

She chuckles.

"Okay. Bye," she says, and we end the call.