Chapter 23
Still Indy
I don’t really remember a lot from those first few weeks after The Move Out. Actually, I do remember calling the jail. My dad was recovering in the infirmary. Dylan’s sperm donor had been locked down in solitary and would be facing assault charges, adding to his prison term. So stupid.
Sabrina’s apartment was nice, I guess. She’d already moved most of her stuff into her boyfriend’s place, but there were still a few things here and there that marked the place as not mine—souvenir mugs, unfamiliar furniture, and a few yearbooks she’d left behind in a closet. But I didn’t care.
It was hard to care about much, honestly. I was just so damned mad.
At Dylan. At his dad. At my dad. At Wendy. At everyone really.
They were all acting like this was normal.
Like it made sense that he’d pushed me out—literally a minute after I’d defended him over our fathers’ jail brawl.
I felt sick to my stomach every time I thought about that scene.
Me standing there getting attacked by James and defending Dylan meanwhile everyone else in the room knew about the blow Dylan was about to slay me with.
They all knew and didn’t say a word. No one spoke up for me.
So, work was awkward. Austin gave me a company car, so I didn’t have to worry about bumming rides, but everyone treated me with kid gloves like I would dissolve into tears at the smallest provocation. Joke was on them—I was all cried out.
Instead, I was moving around life like a spectator, not really involved, and didn’t really give a shit about anything.
Everything had changed in a short amount of time. I moved out of Dylan’s condo that day. The cameras never came back. And the guys were hoping I’d join them in a lawsuit against the network and James. Honestly, I was having a hard time caring about anything.
Everyone in my life was connected to Dylan. I didn’t know where to turn or who to talk about it that wasn’t biased toward him.
Anne.
She wasn’t Team Dylan. She’d listen to me.
Only problem was I didn’t have her phone number or a way to contact her.
Maybe she was on at the diner tonight?
I threw a glance at the clock on Sabrina’s wall. It was nearing eight on a Friday night. Exactly the kinda shift she usually took. I scrambled into action.
I was weirdly excited when I walked into the diner. Maybe excited wasn’t the right word. Really, my stomach was in knots and my shoulders stiff with tension.
But I deflated as a quick scan of the interior didn’t turn up my favorite waitress.
Dammit.
“Just you tonight, sweetheart? Or are you meeting someone?”
I turned at the unfamiliar voice and found a bottle-blonde in her forties holding up a menu and looking at me. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for food, but my fridge was empty, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to shop, let alone cook anything.
So I nodded. “Um, is Anne working tonight?”
“Yeah, she is. This way.”
My heartbeat kicked into high gear as I followed the blonde waitress to a booth along the windows. She slapped the menu onto the table then sashayed away without another word.
I didn’t know where to look. I hadn’t really thought through what I’d say. What to ask.
I was at a loss.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
I pushed away from the table, hoping to slip out without having to face her when I heard a loud gasp followed by, “Indy?”
I dropped my arm and gave Anne a weak smile. “Hey Anne.”
“I’m so glad to see you, kiddo. I was worried about you. How have you been? Where did you land?”
“I, uh…” I shrugged as tears burned my eyes. I don’t know what it was—the concern in her voice, the kiddo—it was just so nice to have someone give a shit about me.
I covered my face with my hands and sobbed.
“Oh shit.”
There was a loud clatter followed by a squeak from the booth, and then Anne’s arms came around me.
And she just held me.
After a couple of minutes, the storm passed—mostly. My breath came easier and I pulled away to wipe my face.
“Sandra?” Anne hollered over her shoulder. “You mind taking my tables? I need a few minutes.”
“Sure thing, Anne.”
I felt so stupid. I shook my head, still too ashamed to look Anne in the face. “You don’t have to do that. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Looks to me like you should’ve come sooner. Are you okay talking here? We can move into the office in the back if you need privacy. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“It’s nothing like that. I don’t even know why I cried. I just, I guess I feel kinda lost.”
“Okay. Let’s start with the basics. Are you hungry or thirsty?”
I shook my head.
“Where are you staying?”
I shrunk down into the booth, my shoulders coming up to my ears. “I have an apartment. And a job. I’m okay, I swear. I just”—I sighed and finished in a whisper— “feel so alone.”
“Do you have a phone?” Anne asked.
I nodded.
“Hand it over.”
I dug through my backpack, still avoiding looking in her eyes, and unlocked my phone then gave it to her.
She tapped at the screen for a minute then gave it back. “I saved my number in there. I want you to call me every day.”
“But—”
“Nope. I feel stupid for not doing this when you first came in months ago. I want you to call me every day. Even if you don’t have anything new to tell me. I am here for you, Indy.”
“Thanks, Anne. That means lot.”
She titled her head. “Honestly, I’m kinda surprised to see you in here alone.”
“Oh?”
“How did things go with Dylan?”
I dropped my head and traced my fingers over the edge of the table. “We, uh, kinda got together.”
“That son of a bitch!” Anne bit out. “I can’t believe he took advantage of you.”
“He didn’t.” I jerked my head up and stared intently at her. “I wanted to be with him. I still want to be with him. But he said I wasn’t ready. And he kinda, sorta ended things between us because of it.”
Anne frowned. “I’m confused. What happened between you two exactly?”
And then the whole story came spilling out. My certainty he held blame in my dad going away. My plan to get info or revenge while living with him. How amazing he’d been. How I’d slowly fallen in love with him. And how he ended things.
Anne listened to the whole story and had a small smile before she shook her head. “See now, that’s where I think you’re wrong.”
“Which part?”
“That he ended things with you. Sounds to me like he still wants to be with you. He just realized you two had a total power imbalance.”
“Power imbalance? What does that matter?”
“Before you came in here, who did you talk things over with? Who was your go-to person?”
“No one. I mean, it used to be Dylan until he broke things off with me.”
“And who paid all the bills—rent, food, electricity, etc?”
“Well, Dylan did but—”
“And who got you your job?”
“Dylan.”
“And whose family and friends did you hang out with?”
“Dylan,” I whispered.
Anne paused and blinked a few times. “Don’t you see?
He held all the power in your relationship.
A less scrupulous guy would’ve taken advantage, maybe even narrowed your world further—talked you into quitting your job so you were absolutely trapped with no way out.
But not Dylan. He wanted you to expand your world.
Have experiences. It’s pretty noble when you think about it.
He set you free because he loves you. Just like in that poem. ”
I rolled my eyes. “He did it literally a minute after we found out about our fathers’ fight.”
“Sure, the timing wasn’t ideal. But really, what difference would an hour or a day have made?
Your dad is healing. His dad is getting more charges, the asshole.
And you two are still apart. I guess the real question is what are you doing to make a difference?
Are you getting out there? Meeting people? Getting your life back on track?”
I dropped my head as each question made me feel lower.
“Are you doing everything you should to make this sacrifice worthwhile?”
“No,” I whispered. “I’ve been too caught up in grief.”
“And that’s okay too. You’ve gone through so many changes in the past couple of years.
But there comes a point in time where it’s not healthy anymore.
When you need to reach out like you did tonight.
And you need to keep reaching out. You need to keep living.
Life doesn’t end just because of a paradigm shift.
I felt the same way after my divorce. But eventually you do have to move on.
I had my kids to goose me into action. Fortunately, you have me. ”
I grinned at her subtle boast. “I’m glad I have you, Anne. Thanks.”
“Any time, kiddo. And I mean it about calling me every day. I want to know what you’re up to and how you’re getting out there, okay?”
“Okay.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight again. Then sat back after one more pat to my shoulder. “Now, let’s get some food into you so we can come up with a plan. Stuffed French toast?”
I nodded. “And a side of crispy bacon.”
“Coming right up.” She grinned at me before sliding out of the booth and heading for the computer console.
And for the first time in a long time, everything felt…normal. Hopeful, even.
* * *
Things didn’t change overnight, but Anne was right. It helped to get out there and expand my world past Dylan and his family.
I started volunteering at a women’s empowerment center, working once a week as a receptionist, answering the phone and welcoming visitors.
It was the kind of place I wished I’d known about when I got evicted.
Their mission statement was to educate women who are homeless and empower them with the skills and confidence necessary to get a job, create a healthy lifestyle, and regain a home for themselves and their children.
Helping other people helped me align my thinking about my own situation. Because, really, I didn’t have it all that bad. I had an apartment. A car. A job. And people in my life who cared about me.
But maybe there was something about Wendy and Dylan’s belief of a power imbalance. I needed to be able to stand on my own two feet and experience life.
I’d called my advisor and sorted out all my paperwork for the next semester. And while I was on campus, I ran into a few friends from the previous year. We exchanged numbers and met up a few times for coffee and to talk.
And I’d gone back to the girls’ book club. Sure, they were part of Dylan’s realm, but they were in my corner too. The number of calls and texts I’d received from them since the split was proof of that.
And Anne agreed they could count toward my friend tally.
My heart almost pounded out of my chest the first time I pulled up to the condo building and saw Dylan’s truck sitting in his spot. It took me a few minutes to find the courage to climb out of the car. But I did.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I speedwalked past his door and held my breath as I waited for Hope to answer her door.
Only it was Ryan who opened the door.
He blinked a few times like he wasn’t expecting me. “Indy. Hey.”
“Hey, Ryan.”
Only he didn’t move to let me in.
I tossed a concerned look at Dylan’s closed door then stepped into Ryan’s space. “Yeah, I’m coming in if that’s all right…”
“What? Oh sure.” He scrambled to get out of my way.
I heard laughter from the room behind him.
“I missed you at work today.”
I closed the door behind me, but he still stood in my way.
“I had some appointments with a few production companies, and then I volunteered at the women’s center.”
He smiled. “That’s great. I’m proud of you.”
I don’t know why, but I choked up a little. I never had a brother, but I imagine it felt something like this. Or should anyhow.
Ryan shook his head. “Sorry. I won’t keep you from the mayhem, but uh, are you coming for Thanksgiving at Aunt Wendy’s?”
When I didn’t immediately answer, he frowned.
“You’ve been invited, right?”
I nodded. “Austin mentioned it, and Wendy called me. I don’t know though. I just… I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I can always volunteer at the center or Anne invited me to her place too.”
Ryan sighed. “I hope you know that we all still consider you part of the family. We love you, Indy, and want you to stick around. No matter what’s going on with you and Dylan.”
“I know. It’s just…” I was being transparent as fuck, but I didn’t want to sit across the table from Dylan for that long. Or god forbid, next to him. I’d only caught a glimpse of him at work when we had to attend the same planning meetings. He looked thinner but still hot as hell. The bastard.
“Awkward. I know.” He smiled slightly. “But it shouldn’t be. And you should know Aunt Wendy puts on a spread that puts most restaurants to shame. You’ll regret not coming for the food alone. And I think you’ll find that Dylan cares a lot about what’s going on with you—still.”
After that enigmatic statement, Ryan gave me a smile and turned to leave, he paused next to the couch where Hope was bouncing their daughter on her lap. He swooped down, grabbed Fliss, pressed a quick kiss to his wife’s head, then walked down the hall to the bedrooms.
All I could do was turn over Ryan’s last cryptic sentence. Dylan cares a lot about me.
Really?
“Indy! Are you okay?” Maddie’s question snapped me back to the present.
And made me realize I was staring into the distance like a crazy person.
I shook my head. “Uh, yeah. I’m good.” I crossed the room and took a seat in the empty recliner. “Um, so is there a protocol to Thanksgiving? Am I supposed to bring something?”