Out On a Limb(37)

“Okay,” she says softly, rubbing my back in slow circles. “That’s the worst-case scenario, right? Finished?”

I nod, wiping a single hot tear off my cheek.

“Good, now—does that seem likely?” she asks, her voice sincere.

“No,” I answer plainly. “No… it doesn’t.”

“What do you think is actually going to happen?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. I don’t see Bo being a problem, but I don’t know him well enough to know what it will actually be like. When we hang out, we banter, and it’s fun and easy—but that’s as far as I know.”

“So it’s a wait and see.”

“It just keeps coming back to getting to know each other more.”

“Right, which is why I think moving in with him is a good choice. He wants to be involved, and I think trusting him until he gives you a reason not to is healthy.”

I imagine Bo the last time we saw each other in person—the night he proposed this idea. His navy cable-knit sweater under his unbuttoned suede coat, blue jeans with bright green socks poking out underneath. Not threatening whatsoever, which is impressive, considering his height.

I also think of the texts we’ve exchanged since then. The way I can’t seem to stop my smile with each flash of his name across my screen, knowing something funny or sweet is about to appear. The daily check-ins and the thank-yous and the apologies for how sick I’ve been. The anecdotes he’s learning from his first-time dad book.

I’ve convinced myself little by little over each day in the last few weeks that this is a good idea, but I think I’ll have to be comfortable in the unsureness to some extent. Most likely, there will always be a lingering amount of distrust, given what I went through. Self-preservation lives in doubt, after all.

Sarah clasps her hand around my knee, appearing deep in thought herself. “But it’s not just you in any of that, Win. In the worst case or the best possible outcome, I’m right here. You’ve got me and Caleb. Whether you want us or not.”

“I used to have your back. Remember that?” I pick at my leggings, frustrated with myself.

“Yeah, I know. I still feel it.” She leans against me, and I stop pinching the fabric around my knee. “It’s just your turn right now. That’s all it is. Turns.”

I’m about to tell her we really should be getting out of here before my landlord shows up for inspection when an echoing voice comes from down the hall. “Sarah?” Caleb shouts from the stairwell, his voice full of comical amounts of distress. “No one is answering their phone. Are you guys okay?”

I pull out my phone at the same time Sarah does, and we grimace at each other. Between us, there are a dozen missed calls and texts. “Forgive me,” she whispers. “Sorry! Win’s having a meltdown, and I’m looking after her! Be down in a minute!”

Caleb appears at the doorway, red-faced and sweating. “Please don’t stop on my account.” He laughs, falling to the floor in front of us. “I’ll just lay here and die.”

“It’s probably a good thing you two have chosen not to procreate. How dramatic would that child be?”

“Hopefully Bo’s DNA levels you out,” Caleb says, peeking at me with one eye open. I throw my gum wrapper at his face.

We sit for a while in silence. I take in the emptied apartment that suddenly feels so much smaller while Caleb catnaps on the floor as Sarah rubs his shoulder.

In the four years I’ve been here, everything has been for the purpose of getting by. A job to pay the bills, waiting for summer to come to feel a little more like myself, not pushing myself to do more or be more because I’ve been afraid. I haven’t made any real progress here. I’ve settled into a stagnant, passable life—safe but perhaps too safe. Smaller than the life I’d like to live moving forward. Maybe this is the fresh start I needed to get my ass into gear.

Maybe a little discomfort will do me some good.





CHAPTER 14





Following behind Caleb in the moving van, Sarah and I pull onto a quiet street lightly dusted with snow and lined with mismatched, picturesque older homes. The sun is out today, and it’s glistening against the ice-covered black roof of house number fourteen. Bo’s house.

We planned for me to come visit a few weeks ago, but between Bo taking on a new project at work, my general level of exhaustion, and a few winter storms, we just ran out of time.

It’s stupid cute. A Tudor-style bungalow with a high gabled roof on the right side and dark brown timbering over top of the white stone exterior.

“You didn’t tell me he lived in Snow White’s cottage,” Sarah says, parking in front of the house. Caleb is parked in the driveway to the right of the home and is already unlatching the back of the truck before we step out to meet him.

“I wonder if the seven dwarves will come help us,” Caleb says, turning to face us as we come up behind him.

“I just made that joke,” Sarah chimes, sickeningly sweet, swatting her husband’s ass. “Wait, is Bo not here?” she asks, looking between the driveway and the front door.

“He’s at a work conference all weekend—it’s a once-a-year thing. He should be back tomorrow. He thought it would be nice for me to have some time to settle in by myself.”