Chapter 46 Not a Lifetime Movie
NOT A LIFETIME MOVIE
Tristan pulled up to the house Callie had rented. Noah’s car was out front. A cute little rambler with yellow mums planted in the flower gardens. The owners had wrapped fall leaves around the railing. Three pumpkins sat on the steps. Inside, the house was warm and filled with life.
“Evan!” Noah cried, jumping up from the table and wrapping his arms around me. “I’ve missed you.”
“I saw you, like, an hour ago.” I pulled away. His blue eyes were bright and his smile too wide. “Are you stoned?”
“Fuck, yeah. Ever try it? Hey, Tris, the ugliest fucking bastard in the Tri County area.” Noah pulled Tristan into his overly happy hug. “You do know how ugly you are, right? You make girls cry, you’re so ugly.”
“Did you give him pot?” I walked over to Craig, who was sitting at the table.
“It was either that or a lobotomy.” Craig hugged me. “How the fuck did you deal with that asshole all those years? He called me a terrorist. Told me to go back to where I came from. I was born in New York.”
“Sounds like James.” I pulled away. “Is Callie here?”
“She took Bailey home.” Craig rubbed his face. “I wish she would let this go. I don’t need anything but her. We can get a puppy. Hell, we can get ten puppies.”
“That’s not Callie. The new doctor didn’t help?” I turned to see Tristan put Noah into a headlock. They looked okay. Almost normal.
“Nope, made it worse. How things go with him?” He nodded to Tristan, who teased his brother about his own good looks.
“He could use about fifteen years of therapy. But great. Did you know that he is The Tristan Anderson? Miami’s Tristan Anderson?” I looked back at Craig.
“Yes, I did. Just like I know you’re The Evan Carter. Fitting, isn’t it? You both are legends.”
“For all the wrong reasons.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Carter. I looked up at Craig.
“Bedroom is down the hall.”
“Thanks. Hello?” I said into the phone as I closed the door behind me.
“Evan, do you have a minute?”
I had forgotten how low his voice was and how much I loved the sound of it. “Yeah, is everything okay?”
“I’m taking the job.”
My heart skipped. “That’s great. Congratulations.”
“Listen. I’ve done some thinking.”
I sat down on the bed. I knew where this was going. It was what I wanted, right? I loved Tristan. And as fucked up as our relationship was bound to be I couldn’t end it with Tristan.
“I think it’s best if we end this.”
There it was. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” That was all I could say because when it counted, I didn’t say what he needed me to say. I couldn’t fight it.
Carter cleared his throat. “I saw the photo of you two.”
“What photo?” I could hear the tightness in his voice. A controlled sharpness.
“The one where he’s groping you in a parking lot.”
Fuck. Libby. “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle that very well.”
“Yeah, that seems to be your problem with him.”
A problem he was well aware of when we met.
He knew I was hung up on Tristan like I knew he could never love me.
He changed the rules, not me. He didn’t warn me.
“I never lied about that.” I could hear the unsteady way his breath came across the line.
“I’m sorry, Carter. You were the right person at the wrong time. ”
“No, Evan, there’ll never be the right time. Anyway, I’m selling the condo. I leave for San Francisco in two weeks. You have until January first to get your things. I would appreciate if you, uh… if you…”
I hated I had hurt him. That I was the reason he now had a wound that would turn into a scar. A scar I hoped someone would help him heal from. Because he deserved someone to love him. To say those words. “Carter, I—”
“Don’t. I don’t want to do this with you over the phone.
So let’s just end it.” His voice was suddenly clear.
“I need two weeks, and then you are welcome to stay until the first of the year. The moving company will pack up what’s mine.
I have painters coming in on the tenth of December, and after that the real estate agent will get the place ready for show. ”
“I’ll be out before the painters.”
“You don’t have to be. Take your time,” he whispered.
I fucked this up, so I didn’t deserve his kindness. “I don’t have that much shit, so it won’t take that long. I’ll stay with Callie, or… It’s not your problem. I’m happy for you.”
“I wish things would have ended differently. That you believed that I do love you. And a part of me always will. I wish you all the best, Evan Carter.”
And that was it. Carter was gone. The life I could’ve had with him: gone. I could hear Tristan and Craig in the living room. Tristan’s voice was what I needed to hear each day. And if someone like Carter couldn’t sever the bond between me and Tristan, nothing would.
I searched Tristan’s name on social media, and there it was. The photo. I was leaning against his car; it was obvious he had his hands up my shirt. I studied him. He was smiling at me as he leaned in ready to kiss me. And I was smiling back at him. A big, bright, happy smile.
I heard Callie come home and then a soft knock on the door before she came in.
“Hey. Craig said Carter called.” She sat on the bed.
“He got the job in California,” I said. “And he’s moving. Without me. We broke up. I mean, he broke up with me. Or maybe I did before I left. But we’re done. He’s selling the condo so…”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She touched my hand.
“It’s okay. Say it.” I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see the disappointment.
“Say what?”
“You told me so. That Tristan is fucked up beyond anything I can help him with. And if we ever have a relationship, it will be toxic and… everything we tell clients to stay away from.”
“I’m hurt you think I’m that kind of friend.
I never want to see you hurting.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “In the end I knew you would end up with him. I could give you a million reasons why Carter was perfect, and you’d have ten more on why Tristan is better.
This was never about being right; it was about you being happy. Are you happy?”
“I am. For the first time I feel okay. No.” I was more than okay. I was happy. “I’m more than okay. I’m happy with where I am with Tristan. It won’t make him stay. But I understand why now.” I lifted my head from her shoulder.
Callie pulled away. “Why don’t you go with him?”
“Because we’re not to that part yet. I may be delusional but I’m not stupid.
And I love my life here. I love my job and being this close to you and Craig.
I’d miss you too much. Plus, I don’t fit into Miami Tristan’s life and that’s okay.
” I smiled at her. “But enough about my shit-show life. Why are you here? I mean, I’m glad to see you, but Parkfield? ”
Callie chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh, I don’t know. It seems like a cute Hallmark town or slasher film town.” She paused. “I’m ovulating.”
“Callie.” I frowned, shaking my head. That was what Craig was worried about.
“I know.” She held up her hand. “Zoey has already threatened bodily harm. But this new doctor thinks that with the right treatment and bed rest, I can do this. I want to try one more time. Then it’s done.”
“Are you sure you can go through that again?”
“Yep, I’m just as messed up as you. I thought I couldn’t. And then the thought of not trying was harder. But this is it. It’s taking a toll on Craig, and I can’t do that to him anymore. I mean, he likes the trying part, and so do I. I really like the trying part.” She smiled over at me.
“Oh god.” I stood up. “Did you already…?” I looked at the bed.
“No. He’s been babysitting Noah. Thanks for that. I rent this cute house in this cozy little town, ready to live out some Hallmark movie, and I get here and Tris’s little brother is throwing up in the bathroom and his girlfriend is on some hormonal rampage.”
“That’ll be you one day. Puking in the bathroom, then on a rampage to remove Craig’s paring knife.” I sat back down on the bed and wrapped my arms around her. I didn’t think I could have survived without her or Zoey. They were the constant in my inconstant world.
“It’s a very large butcher knife.”
“Okay, I’ll remind you of that when you’re pushing his five-foot-two infant out of your body.”
“You really think I will be pushing a child out of me?” She touched her flat stomach.
“That shouldn’t excite you. You might want to see a therapist about that.” I laid my head on her shoulder. I wanted her to be happy. To have everything she wanted. She deserved that. So did Craig.
“We can get therapy together.” Callie hugged me. “I really want this, Evan, more than anything. I want to be a mom. I want Craig to be a dad. I think he would be so good at it.”
“And you’ll be an amazing mom. Think of the sex talks you could have with all the neighborhood kids.”
Callie snorted out a laugh. “My children will be well versed in sex education.”
“Promise me you’ll never leave. Even after you push a human out of your body, you’ll still be my best friend.” Women need one thing to survive life: at least one really good friend. Two is better.
“I promise. If you promise that if anything happens to me, you’ll be there for Craig.”
I lifted my head. That wasn’t how this worked. She didn’t get to chase her dream at the cost of her life. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No. I’d worry less.”
“Calla Lily Mariano. If you are lying to me, I will cockblock Craig so bad. I will move in and make sure you never have sex with him again.”
“Evan Michael Blu Carter, you’re a good friend.” She pressed her forehead to mine. “And I love you.”
“Me too. But this better not end like some Lifetime movie with us sitting on a beach and you making me promise that I will take care of your five-foot-seven baby and marry Craig.”
“What kind of babies have you been around?” Callie pulled away.
“None. Which is why you can’t Lifetime-movie me, deal?”
“Deal.”
“Hey.” Craig knocked on the door. “Can I join you two? I can’t deal much more with this brotherly love shit.”
“You gave Noah pot,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. I also gave Tris some.” He scrunched up his nose and bit his bottom lip.
“Craig, you know the rules.” Callie stood.
“Yes, my little dove. Pot kills my sperm.”
“Does it?” I looked to Callie.
“No, it kills his abilities to use his knife.” Callie tugged me up.
I shook my head. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Yeah, well, pot makes Tris a little grabby, which is why he doesn’t do it often and only with me. And since you’re here, you can deal with that.” Craig winked.
“Aw, honey, do you need some alone time with Prince Tristan? He’s so dreamy and handsome. And those eyes and that mouth.” Callie put her hands under her chin and batted her eyes at Craig.
“He really does have a pretty mouth, doesn’t he?” I teased.
“Fuck you two.” He wrapped his arm around Callie. “And yes he does.”
The kitchen smelled heavily of pot. Callie opened the windows and complained about losing her security deposit.
“The Evan.” Tristan was slouched back in a chair, one arm thrown over the back.
He squinted through the smoke, watching me.
There was an edge to him. While Noah was sitting with a dopey smile on his face, his eyes glazed over, Tristan was more intense.
His eyes followed me around the room, his perfect white teeth biting the corner of his bottom lip.
I didn’t think he could be any more beautiful but there he was looking like a god.
“The Tristan Anderson. The Miami legend.” I took the joint from Noah and took a drag. The pot burned as it swirled into my lungs. “Fuck.” I coughed it out.
“Good shit, huh?” Noah blinked slowly.
I coughed again before taking another drag and handing it back to Noah. I hadn’t smoked pot since college. Callie and I often smoked it on Fridays. Classes were tough and realizing that we would be responsible for fixing people was stressful.
Tristan pulled me into his lap. “Wait till I show you what this legend can do.” He ran his mouth along the back of my neck, his hand under my shirt.
“Keep it in your pants, Prince,” Craig complained, sitting down at the table.
“Prince?” Noah looked at Tristan. “Like the singer?”
I laughed. The pot was starting to ease the stress and the reality of what had just happened ten minutes ago. I was homeless and delusional.
“Yep, like the singer.” Tristan rested his chin on my shoulder.
“Okay, boys and girl. Five card draw. Sevens are wild.” Callie shuffled a deck of cards.
“Aw, come on, Callie. I gotta enough goldfish to play cards.” Noah blinked slowly.
“You have what, sweetie?” Callie asked Noah.
“I got…” He stopped and looked at his hand and started laughing.
“He needs something to eat.” Callie pulled out her phone. “The Pizza Place or Tommie’s?”
“Tommie’s,” both Tristan and I said. Callie ordered a couple pizzas and breadsticks.
“I said I have enough fish for the card… no, I have enough… I don’t have enough? I could use more.” Noah nodded to himself before laying his head on the table.
“How much did you give him? Noah?” I brushed the hair from his forehead.
“He’s never smoked before.” Tristan leaned forward, tapping his brother on the head. “Noah. You good, bro?”
Noah lifted his head. “I love you, Tristan. And I love you, Evan. And I love this table.”
“How about a sandwich?” Callie made Noah a sandwich.
We played cards and ate pizza. It felt right.
All the people I loved were sitting at this table.
Tristan had his arms wrapped around my waist or hand up the back of my shirt.
He laughed at his brother and joked with Craig.
And that smile was so perfect. It was reckless and carefree.
It belonged to a man, not the broken boy whose mom didn’t love him enough.
But I did. I loved him enough for her and for me.
And Carter was right. There would never be a right time as long as Tristan walked this earth, and even if he didn’t, it would never be the right time.
We had a history. A foundation we had both built lives on.
We filled it with things, some we loved and others we didn’t.
We changed the wall color, but the foundation was always the same. Us.