MILLIE
I felt relieved after getting everything off my chest. Caleb was so sweet about everything, enough to make me feel almost indebted to his generous nature. He was gracious and kind, like a prince on a white horse ready to heed my call. It made me want to give him something in return, or even, if he wanted, my affection. Still, we maintained our pretense.
We let the understanding between us relax the tension hanging around us, and yet… when his lips met my skin, it felt like everything I wanted and more. It was a taste of something far more divine than I ever thought possible.
It was a shame to have Caleb pull away again and talk of work. For a second after, I thought I could sense some disappointment in those soft blue eyes of his, but it disappeared as the day progressed. Though Caleb was, dare I say it, gallant, I hoped that he cared enough to want me. My feelings for Caleb required far more passion than that chaste kiss pressed into my skin. Maybe, in time, something more could happen for us, but I had little interest in rushing the pace.
Things with Caleb needed to remain as they were: organic, warm, and natural.
Taking the train after work, I went home with a lot to think about. It had been a long time since I’d talked to Breanna, and I could really use her advice. This time she picked up, and it was so good to hear her voice.
“I miss you!” I said.
“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice heavy with an adopted accent.
Though people still commented on mine, I could feel my inflection going back to its Chicago roots. The Midwestern city was soaking back into me, and the sidewalk I followed was becoming more and more familiar. My feet stepped lively back to the apartment, and as a breeze blew down the road, I knew the chill of the coming October breathing down my neck.
“How’s Dublin?” I asked, stopping at a crosswalk.
“Fine. Rainy.”
I laughed. “Glad to hear nothing’s changed.”
It had rained at least half of the days I spent in Ireland, with the other half misty and cool. I longed to be back in the pubs, those ancient, friendly places where the staff served large sandwiches and beer and the atmosphere was fun. Breanna and I had spent a lot of time catching up with each other in pubs. If I had closed my eyes, I could almost feel myself going back there. We were sipping stouts and talking about our problems, like always.
“It sounds like things are changing for you, Mills,” Breanna remarked. “Your voicemail mentioned a certain set of men.”
I let out a long breath. “Yeah, I did.”
“You know I’m dying to hear about it, love.”
It felt strange, talking about things so openly on a public sidewalk, but I managed to get out the story without getting strange looks from the other city dwellers passing me by. Hurrying up the elevator of Meara’s building, I let myself into the apartment and found only a note.
Out for a birthday thing with co-workers. Will be home late. Love You, Meara
I set the piece of neon green paper down and got back to the conversation.
“So, am I crazy?” I wanted to know from Bree. “Am I not being direct enough, or is this even worth crossing boundaries?”
“Would they all make you happy?” she wondered back.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Then, do whatever feels right in the moment. It’s not an easy conversation to have. Trust me, I know, but if these men feel like this, then they should be understanding. Feck, they should at least be willing to try!”
I laughed. Her Irish brogue really was getting thicker.
I didn’t know why I needed reassurance from my friend and my twin. In most anything else, I never gave myself space to doubt, but there was something about having what you wanted in the palm of your hand. It was almost like I could see the desires right there. They were in my grasp and ready to be taken, yet I couldn’t escape the worry they might sprout wings and fly off.
Then, as if he knew his name was on my lips, my phone hummed. Staring at the screen for a second, I went back to Bree. I loved talking to her, but this felt almost too important.
“Vlad’s texting,” I told her.
“Oh, don’t let me keep you then!” she chimed from the other end.
“But I like talking to you. I miss you, Bree.”
“And I miss you too,” she replied. “Think of it this way: you can find out what he wants and text me all about it tomorrow. It’s late here, anyway. I need to get off to bed soon.”