5. Ivy #2
I can just about visualize her with a hand on her hip, a little scowl on her face as she removes her glasses as if it made her hear better.
“Everything’s going well so far,” I lie.
“Then why are you calling?”
“Whoa, Grammy! Am I not allowed to call you at all?”
“Not when you sound like one of them emotionless AI whatever! What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
Wait, do I sound weird? I was drugged last night, maybe that substance is still in my system, but there’s no way I’m telling Grammy about that.
“No, not at all,” I say cheerfully. “I’m as healthy as a horse, Grammy! I just called to check in on you! How are you?”
“Busy.”
“Grammy!”
“Hey, unlike someone, I have a social life! I’m legitimately busy!”
I laugh, knowing that it’s true. Grammy has a very vibrant social life, far better than mine.
“When are you coming back?” she questions, and I pause, not knowing how to answer that. “I was just about to call you.”
“Really?” I mutter, my heart pounding hard in my chest. “Is everything okay with you?”
I can’t tell her about the deep hole I’m in right now when she specifically told me to forget about my mother, stay away from Emmett, and focus instead on moving forward.
“Of course it is! Can’t I just call you?”
I chuckle, about to say something petty, but then that train of thought is cut off by her next words. “I can’t reach your brother for the past three days now. That is unlike him. Have you heard from him?”
Oh no. Grammy’s sixth sense is tingling.
“Oh?” I fake-laugh again, but it sounds believable. “You know him and his top-secret nonsense. He’ll probably call you soon.”
“You think so? I didn’t sleep very well last night,” Grammy says in a gentle, concerned tone that makes my knees grow weak. “Are you sure you’re all right, baby? You know you can always come back home at any time, right?”
Tears well up in my eyes, as a tingling sensation blooms in my chest.
“Grammy…”
Before I can stop myself, I start crying.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asks softly. I almost spill my guts about everything that has happened, but I know I can’t.
Not just because of the contract between Emmett and me but because I would rather die than break Grammy’s heart again.
She can’t know about Beverly.
How can I tell her that the daughter she and Gramps lost is out here living large, has another daughter that she kept when she abandoned me, and doesn’t even care for her mother?
No, this is my agony to bear… even until death.
So, I just whisper the only truth I have for now.
“I… I just miss you, Grammy.” So much.
Grammy is silent for a beat, then she hums gently, just like how she did when she’d wrap me in her arms, soothing me back to calm.
“Whatever it is, everything’s going to be all right,” she says softly, maternally, loving me despite the mess I put myself in. “I’m here, waiting for you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’ll be home soon, Grammy.”
“Good! Now, tell me. Do you really want to study in that city? I think you should reconsider your other options.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, are you having a good time in New York so far?”
I pause.
“Your silence tells me everything I need to know,” she says.
“I need to go but, Ivy, you need to choose who you want to be from now. Either someone who lives in the shadows, hoping and lamenting over the past and flimsy imaginations, or someone of substance, forging her own path, letting go of everything that has tied her down. It’s up to you. ”
Her words strike me like a wrecking ball to the chest.
“Grammy?”
“Let the past go, Ivy. That’s all I want for you and this next season of your life,” she says seriously. “There are some things that we don’t need answers for, nor will the answers help you with anything.”
“Does that also include whatever feud is there between us and the Eastons?”
Before I can stop myself, the question is already out there.
To my surprise, Grammy doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yes, including that,” she says seriously. “That boy… Ivy, whatever must be, will always be.”
I know the boy she’s talking about.
Unlike my brother who has been vocal about me staying away from Emmett, Grammy just wanted me to have a sound mind and not be led by my emotions.
“You’re brave, my baby,” she says sweetly. “Braver than even myself, but I also want you to be smart. Now that you’re older, use that intelligence of yours to see the whole picture. Don’t rely on what people say, watch what they are doing.”
I’m so speechless that I can’t even think of a response.
Somehow, her words spark something in me that by the time we hang up, I’m riddled with so much guilt and sadness that I feel angry.
At myself mostly.
Grammy is one hundred percent correct.
Emmett has made it clear that he doesn’t give a damn about feelings, let alone mine, so why hold on to him?
My body starts feeling feverish, but I don’t dare fold or crumble into a pile of broken pieces on the cold floor.
I did that already and all the times before in my life when my heart shattered.
Like when I saw Emmett kiss Astraea when we were seniors in high school.
And when Emmett ignored me. When he blamed me. And when Emmett rejected me over and over again.
All I did was cry.
But this is the last time I cry for that asshole.
I want him to feel what it feels like to suffer an ache that sinks into your skin, festers into the bone marrow over a long period of time that it feels like there’s no hope or a way out.
I want him to feel the poison of this unrequited love.
Men tend to have overcrowded hearts.
They want power, wealth, multiple women, envy from other men, being made to feel important and all that crap.
Never stay in overcrowded places, there’s no space for you there.
Rather than pining for him, I’m switching everything up.
Let’s see how he likes not getting the one thing he desires above all.
Revenge.