“Oh no. No, no, no. Hanna, I am not getting involved in this.”
“Karly, please. Reach out, and just try. We have to try for Ellie.”
Of course, she’d use Ellie. I want to hang up. Just hang up, Karly. You know you want to.
“Karly…”
“Fine,” I growl, “Fine. I’ll try and call him.”
“Okay,” she agrees. “Jameson and I are going to take Ellie to the zoo this weekend, but we should get together next week. Taco Tuesday?”
I agree to salsa and margaritas and promise to get in touch with Eric before ending the call. I even manage to keep my irritated growl at bay until I hit the end button. Then I just stare at my phone, contemplating my next move.
Hanna doesn’t know about the night of the wedding or that he came to my apartment the other night. I don’t exactly know how to bring that up, and I feel like a terrible friend for hiding it from her. I text Eric, wondering how I’m going to bring up Hanna.
Me: Hey, I’m sure you are busy but can you talk?
Several hours go by, and after folding about a month’s worth of laundry and whipping up a quick bite to eat, my phone finally vibrates.
Eric: Sorry, I’ve been at the hospital. Crazy day.
Me: Did you go back to work?
Eric: Wanted to keep my house.
Me: Smart.
Eric: Adult life sucks, but what’s up?
Me: Avoiding adult life, watching Toy Story, and eating ramen.
Eric: I’m totally judging you right now.
Me: YOLO
Eric: Okay, you’re right. Toy Story is a good movie.
Me: You can come over and watch it if you want. We need to talk anyway.
Eric: I’m still in my work clothes.
Me: So? It’s my apartment, not New York fashion week.
Eric: Okay, I’ll be there in 10.
I toss the phone on the couch and take a good look around. I really am a slob. The sink is full of dishes, so I shove them into the dishwasher out of sight and stare at the clothes I have piled on the kitchen table so high that they are starting to slide off and cringe. I remind myself that he’s only coming here so I can get him to talk to Hanna and decide that I don’t need to do anything else. Out of habit, though, I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. My hair still looks decent from my Instagram live this morning, but I still mess with it. I swipe a quick layer of lipgloss over my lips and add one more coat of mascara. All to go sit back down on the couch.
I pick my noodles back up and watch as Buzz and Woody go to Pizza Planet, jumping a little when I hear Eric knocking on the door. Which is ridiculous because I knew he was coming. It doesn’t erase this sinking guilty feeling I have though.
“Come in!” I yell from the couch.
“What if I had been a serial killer?” He asks, tossing his keys on the counter.
“The chances of that are pretty slim.”
He laughs, “They are a lot higher than you think. You should really lock your doors.”
He rounds the couch, and I get the first actual glimpse of him. Dark blue scrubs, tired eyes, but that subtle smile. It’s everything.