Page 80 of Between Hello and Goodbye
“Plus, she asks about you sometimes.A lotof sometimes.”
“Yeah, well we don’t need to talk about it anymore.”
We entered my kitchen and Kal brought two plates from a cupboard so I could nuke two scoops of the rice dish. When it was ready, I served Kaleo who’d settled himself on a stool at the island. Standing across from him, I took one bite of mine and pushed the rest aside.
Kaleo glanced at my full plate. “No good? I think it’s yummy.”
“I’m just…not hungry,” I lied.
My problem in a nutshell. I had someone right here I could possibly make something with if I gave her half a chance, but I’d rather starve if I couldn’t have Faith. No one else was going to cut it.
But she’s there and you’re here. Same fucking roadblock every time.
I shot Kal a forced smile. “So your mom and dad’s business is picking up. That’s great.”
He nodded and spoke around a mouthful of pineapple. “Mama’s not worried about money anymore. She said Faith’s idea was really good.” He peered up at me. “Is she going to come back to visit?”
I glanced down at my uneaten food. “I don’t know.”
“Why not?’
“We’ve both been really busy with our jobs lately.” I cocked my head. “What’s with all the questions?”
He tilted a shoulder. “I like Miss Barnes a lot but she’s my teacher. It’d be weird if you two got married.”
I laughed gruffly. “Faith and Miss Barnes are my only options?”
“That’s who Mama and Dad talk about most. They’re worried about you because now you’re working even harder than before. Dad says he wants you to be happy.”
I expected to be pissed at my brother for constantly being in my business, but warmth flooded my chest.
“Yeah, well, I’m not getting married any time soon. If ever.”
“Because Faith doesn’t live here?”
Jesus, this kid.
“I’m not reallywithher, bud,” I said, and fuck me if that didn’t stab me in the chest. “We’re sort of in a holding pattern.”
“What does that mean?”
“Remember when we flew to Maui last Christmas? And how we couldn’t land for a while because the captain said there was an airplane traffic jam on the runway?”
“I remember. We had to fly around the island a bunch of times.”
“That’s a holding pattern. You’re off the ground but not really going anywhere.”
Kal’s face scrunched up in a frown. “How long does a holding pattern last?”
Question of the year. Over the last two months, Faith and I texted and called as much as our schedules would allow. We even FaceTimed once. Once and never again. Seeing her smile and hearing her laugh made me stupid with missing her, which had translated to me being super fucking awkward. She’d teased me that I’d spent too much time in the wilderness to use technology properly. The Seattle skyline had been her backdrop, and the whole fucking ordeal just served to remind me how far apart we were.
So do something about it.
I had five solid days off. Faith had been buried in work on some big-time ad account. But the last time we talked—a few days ago—she’d said it was finally winding down. Maybe…
My pulse picked up at the mere idea of seeing Faith, but I’d be breaking my vow to never step foot on the mainland again. Not just the mainland, but a bustling city of concrete and noise and everything I’d come to associate with my time on Wall Street—the years I’d put in to buy Morgan and me some stability when we’d had none. I’d hated every second of it. Going back felt like taking a step backward, away from whatever healing I was searching for.
But seeing Faith again…
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