Bullet ✔️

Chapter 12

"It's healthy to worry a bit, especially now that James is your husband."

She smiled at me, reaching over to hold my hand across the table. She nodded in agreement as well.

"How are you so wise? I mean, you're way smarter than I am—at least more rational. It's unfair." She let out a laugh.

I didn't have a real answer for that, so I just shrugged and winked at her, filling my mouth once more with the cold, delicious sugar bomb. The heat was only getting worse towards the end of summer, making it harder to do anything at all—including shopping—so we decided to go back home once our cones were gone.

The house was, predictably, empty.

Elina's obvious deflation when we arrived back and we're still alone broke my heart a little, though it was already cracked from my own realization that they weren't back. It was almost three in the afternoon, meaning we'd been gone for six hours. And they'd been gone even longer..

I helped her carry her bags into the house; it took four trips with both our arms full of bags and boxes until the red convertible was empty, and we could unpack and organize everything into place. With the help of a nice, chilled bottle of white wine, we made it into a relatively fun time, considering.

We ordered Chinese for dinner, getting way too much for just the two of us, so there would be some for James, and possibly Damian as well, when they eventually came back. But it was excruciating to wait past that point. We ended up sitting in mostly silence, watching reruns of old TV shows in one of their big living rooms, another bottle of wine opened between the two of us.

I yelped when my phone suddenly started ringing, and Elina laughed without any shame at how easily scared I was. A part of me hoped it would be Damian calling, to say he was okay and home and ready to go to bed, but he didn't have my number—so it was just wishful thinking at that point. Instead I willed myself to smile as I answered the video call from my dad, leaning back against the brown leather couch.

"Hi, dad," I greeted him, furrowing my brows as I looked at his dirty face. "What's up?"

"Hi, little one," he replied, wiping his forehead with a hand and then smiling at me through the screen. "I just needed some positivity from my favorite person. I'm fixing up Mrs. Johnsen's car, and it's not looking good."

I let out a small chuckle, feeling my spirits lift already with his words. He always called whenever anything was hard, and I loved him for it. "It has to be bad if you're still working on it after dinner," I said, remembering his rule to never work after dinner, unless it's an emergency.

"I'm gonna continue tomorrow, there's so much I need to do with it—but how are you? You've been so quiet lately."

My nose scrunched up involuntarily. "I'm okay, I'm at a friend's house right now."

"Oh, you reconnected with Angela?" The hope in his voice was obvious, but I looked towards Elina and shook my head.

"No, a new friend," I said, at the same time as Elina lifted our wine bottle and scooted in closer, waving at the camera. "Dad, Elina, Elina, dad."

"Hello, Elina!" My dad sounded even happier now, as if he'd been waiting for me to find new friends, or something. I didn't blame him—for a long time work was my only friend, besides him. "You look rather dashing, don't you? Got any good-looking friends for my little girl?"

Elina grinned at me, before turning to the camera again and said, "I do, actually, this one friend of mine—" Her words stopped as the front door opened, and both of us turned to look. "James!" She practically leapt off the couch, over the back of it, ignoring pillows and blankets as she threw her arms around her tired-looking husband.