Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Mom was quiet for a while, but usually, that meant she was actually listening. Good news for what I wanted to say.
“I just don’t want to regret my choices, you know? Even if you had chosen differently, you know me better than anyone, and I’m struggling with what I want for my future and for myself.”
“Well, what are you talking about? Let’s start with that. I can’t help you if you get all metaphorical on me.”
So I told her about Andrew. Not the vague version from before. I told her everything and topped it off with his silent but large presence in the hours I was there. At first, she told me I was probably overreacting, but after I finished ranting, her tone changed. “It’s not that I think you should ignore it, Christie. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, what are you saying then?”
“I just want you to make sure you’re not constructing this view of him based on something he did on your date.”
“It wasn’t a date, though, Mom,” I stressed, pressing my palm against my forehead. “But okay, let’s go with that, then. If I hadn’t met him before my first day . . .”
What would I have felt? A stranger, eyeing me from across the room. I may have wondered if he was measuring my worth. I was a new investment of sorts, so that would have made sense. But when I thought about how often he made his presence known, the first thing that came to mind was that look. It was the look, I realized, the predator watching prey, waiting for that moment when he could strike again. It was the same look he had on that night at the bar. I couldn’t dismiss that. I just couldn’t let it go.
“I don’t know, Mom. I just . . . I don’t think I can feel comfortable there.”
“Then you know what you need to do.”
“But what if it’s a mistake?”
“What if staying is a mistake? You seem so unsure, but sweetie, you have to make a choice, and you have to be content with that decision. If you stay and regret it, you can only blame yourself, but you’re still at the starting line. You still have the option to stop before you get too far to turn back.”
I nodded. “Then I’ll have to be content with that choice, too.”
“And if that means you moving back home, don’t think you won’t find another opportunity down the road. I know you’ve been trying to get out of here, but I miss you when you’re gone.”
“Oh, Mom.” My eyes watered, but I blinked away the tears. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, I know. I know you’re just trying to grow up. I want what’s best for you, Christie.”
Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I tried to swallow the newly formed knot in my throat. “Yeah,” I rasped.
“Now, what about that man? The one with your phone? Ryan. Have you asked him for a job?”
“Mom!”
“What?”
A knock on my door kept my response in my throat. “I gotta go.”
“You party pooper,” she said, then huffed. “Okay, call me later.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I opened the door, and Ryan’s grin awaited me on the other side. “Hello, Ms. Hannam.”
My cheeks burned at the formality, stealing the smile from my face.
He must have noticed it threw me off and stepped in while dangling a paper bag in front of me. “I just meant—because of your job. You’re a professional now.”
“Oh.” I accepted the bag and inhaled a long breath. “Mmm. Breakfast tacos.”
“These are from Tacodeli. That’s why it took a while, but they’re good! Not sure how Houston tacos are.”
“My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I actually don’t eat breakfast tacos very much.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “My mom doesn’t like eggs. Or bacon. Or tortillas.”
Ryan sat in my chair and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Sounds boring.”
I laughed. “A little.”
I tossed him a taco and unwrapped mine after settling on the edge of the bed. These tacos were pretty good, but I had to admit, I remembered some pretty amazing ones in Houston, too.
“When’s your meeting again?” he asked through a mouthful of egg and potato.
I chose to swallow mine before answering and took a drink of the water I’d left on my bedside table. “Well, actually, I don’t think I’m going.”
“Why?”
“I think I’m going to quit.”
“Are you sure? It’s not because of what I said, right?”
I shook my head. “You helped me think more about it, but no. I’ll find another job where I’m not under this kind of pressure. I don’t need to wonder if someone will hold their power over my head.”
He nodded slowly and chose this time to swallow his bite first. I appreciated that he didn’t gloat about being right or anything like that. It was comforting to know he wanted to be there for me, but then I felt a little sad knowing that, by quitting, I’d have to move back home before I even got started living here.