11. Sully
CHAPTER ELEVEN
sully
“HELLO, MOTHER,” I DRAWLED, staring up at the white ceiling of my apartment.
I’d swung home for my lunch break, which I reserved for dealing with existential crises these days, and since it had been roughly sixteen hours since I’d unexpectedly seen Eleanor Summers, I was currently in one. “So nice of you to call.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, Sullivan,” she tsked. “I tried to call you yesterday, and you didn’t pick up.”
Yeah, because I’d been racing to Cream the concept of being near Ellie but not having her sounded a little like torture, actually. But maybe it would be good for one of us.
“She can move in,” I found myself saying.
And once the words were out, I couldn’t take them back.
“Great.” Mom sounded delighted. “Can you swing by the house sometime this week, then?”
I made a face. “Why?”
“Your childhood bedroom still looks like an eighteen-year-old tornado tore through it. Can you maybe clean some of your junk out? I’m sure Ellie doesn’t want to be surrounded by your LEGO sets.”
Our LEGO sets, but sure, fine, whatever.
“LEGO is not junk, Mother.”
“Whatever you say, dear.” I had a feeling my mom’s brain had already fluttered onto the next thing. “I’m going to ask Theo to do the same. He still has a closet full of books in that house. Probably two closets, actually.”
“Okay, Mom.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I shall swing by the house and grab some of my not-junk belongings.”
“What day?”
“What?”
“What day are you swinging by?”
“I don’t know.” I wanted to get this over with. “I’ll probably just go today after work.”
“Perfect. I’ll leave a list of everything I’d like you to clean out. Have a good day, honey!”
I shook my head, wondering how the hell this conversation had gotten away from me. I’d wanted to know more about why Ellie was back and why my mom had been the only one to know about it, and now here I was, agreeing to clean out my childhood bedroom so my ex-girlfriend could move into it.
“Bye, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
With that, she hung up.
And I just had this feeling that everything was about to change.
I wasn’t really sure of the specifics, but somehow, I made it through the rest of the workday. In fact, it flew by, and before I knew it, I was dragging my feet to my car and driving out to Rosewood.
It was roughly a thirty-minute drive, and by the time I was turning onto Maple Street, I’d made permanent nail indents in my steering wheel.
I’d been grateful when my millionaire brother bought our mom a house on the lake we always swam in as kids. Not only was it a rad fucking house, but it also meant that I no longer had to go to this house.
This house with its wraparound porch and memory-soaked walls. With the weeping willow in the backyard and the large oak trees in front.
Ironically, though, there wasn’t a single maple in sight.
When I pulled up in front of the white two-story with dark shutters, another car already sat along the curb.
It was the same car I’d pulled up next to last night, too. A car I was admittedly relieved had made it back from Minneapolis. A car I was itching to replace, even if it wasn’t my business.
Eleanor was already here.
Because of course she fucking was.