Chapter 55
Ava
Tammy’s voice fills my ear after the first ring.
“Finally,” she breathes, the relief so tangible it makes my own chest relax.
“I just needed a minute,” I tell her. So much has happened since we dropped her at the airport, and I’m still reeling from it all. If James weren’t there to ground me every time another chunk of my heart crumbled at the thought of my parents’ lies, then I’d probably have gotten on a plane to confront my father and my rage by now.
But he has been there. Steady and real.
“I bet you did. How are you?” she asks.
“I’m a mess. But also I’m happy. If that makes sense.”
She makes a thinking noise and I can hear her mother saying something softly in the background.
“Did you and James—”
“Yes.” I whisper it as if that might stop Olivia from finding out. Letting go of Ethan has been much less difficult than handling the idea of losing his mother and sister as parts of my life. Possibly because I think I started to let go of him the moment I met James. But I do hope that he’s okay. I want him to be happy.
“Ava, I’m so sorry. I was talking to Mom, and I honestly didn’t even think about what I was sharing. I’m so used to you telling her everything that I forgot for a moment I even had a brother—”
“Tammy, stop.” I hear her let out a whoosh of breath. “I’m not even remotely upset with you. It had to happen.”
If anything, the entire Venice situation forced me to face the truth. But I would have liked to face it without humiliating Ethan.
“How’s Ethan?” I ask.
“He’s okay. But I want to hear about you. Tell me about what’s going on over there. When do you come home?”
I look to James’s open MacBook where I have my flight info up, ready to postpone again. I’m getting killed with fees, but every time I think of leaving James and Urbino my entire body aches, so I’ll pay anything not to have to face the pain that will actually hit when I step through customs and back into my life.
“Right now my flight’s Thursday, but I’m thinking of pushing it to Sunday,” I say, plopping back onto the comforter and looking up at the exposed beam that was built by the hands I love.
“Why not just push it back until the weekend before you start, Aves? Don’t you think you should give this thing between you all of the time that you can?”
I hate it when she says smart shit.
“The longer I stay here, the harder this is going to be.”
The body ache starts again. An image of me clinging to James’s leg like a barnacle flashes before my eyes.
She sighs. “I think it’s going to be hard no matter what you do at this point. You fell in love. It’s impossible to walk away from that.”
I fell in love.
It sounds so simple. Like finding a penny in the street.
“Speaking of lovers, did you find your mom’s?” she asks.
My turn to sigh.
“They weren’t lovers. But it turns out my mom was sick—”
“No.”
“Yeah. That’s why she came home. She had cancer.” I can barely get the last three words out. I’ve said them so many times. To so many people. But it’s different when I’m talking about my twenty-three-year-old mother and not my forty-eight-year-old mother.
“Jesus, Ava. I’m so sorry. Did you talk to your dad?” she asks.
I shake my head like she can see me.
“I think you should,” she whispers.
I let out a long breath.
“I’m not ready to have that conversation. I’d rather focus on enjoying what I have left,” I tell her, ignoring the stab to the ribs that comes with the awful countdown.
There’s a ping from James’s MacBook, where my email inbox sits in a rectangle on the screen. Bolded in black, the subject line of the fresh email that appeared from one of the partners at my future firm reads: URGENT ACTION REQUIRED. OFFER UPDATE.
I register that Tammy is talking to me about my father, but my brain can only just barely process the words of the email that now fills the screen.
Dear Ava,
The firm has taken on a high-profile case that will require the entire staff to do their part. We’d like to offer you a per diem bonus to begin Thursday, August 14th.
Oh shit, that’s in two days.
The compensation will be $2,000 a day until your previous start date of September 15th when your previously negotiated salary will take precedence.
That’s one month of rent. In a single day.
We look forward to your response.
Respectfully,
Serena Steinfeld
Senior Partner
“Ava?” Tammy’s voice joins in with the words that I’m rereading over and over while dread and excitement play thumb-war inside my skull.
“The firm wants me to start early, T,” I manage.
Silence.
Two days? That’s not enough time. I look out the window at the hills, golden beneath the low hanging sun.
But this is what I worked for. This is the plan.
“How early?” Tammy asks.
I press the reply button and start typing out a response.
“Two days,” I say, answering Tammy and reminding myself of the reality of the offer.
“That’s not enough time,” she says.
And it’s suddenly very clear that, even if I stayed until September 15th, it will never be enough time.