Page 36 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
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I’m not sure how much time has passed when I pull myself to a sitting position on the bed. My eyes are swollen, my throat raw. The tears have slowed to a trickle, but the hollow feeling in my chest remains.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and dial Rachel’s number.
“Hello, stranger,” Rachel’s voice is a balm, even from thousands of miles away. “Isn’t it past your bedtime in the land of corn?”
“Hi.” My voice cracks, and there’s an immediate shift in her tone.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Not really.” I pull my knees to my chest, curling into myself. “Adam and I had a fight. A bad one.”
“What happened?” The background noise on her end fades, like she’s moved to a quieter spot.
I tell her everything — the cruise, Millie, Adam’s mother, the ultimatum. The words pour out of me in a torrent, punctuated by fresh tears.
“His mother is a piece of work,” Rachel says when I finally pause for breath. “And he just went along with it? Without even putting up a fight?”
“He says it’s not about choosing sides. That it’s about supporting Millie through her grief.”
“That’s bullshit, and he knows it.” Rachel’s loyalty is fierce and immediate. “He’s choosing the path of least resistance, like he always does. And you’re the one who gets hurt.”
“What if I’m making a mistake? What if I’m walking away from the love of my life because I refuse to be understanding enough?” I ask, giving voice to the fears that have been plaguing me since I left Adam standing in the kitchen.
“Stop that.” Rachel’s voice is firm. “You’re allowed to put your foot down when your fiancé picks his ex-girlfriend over you for a major holiday. That’s not unreasonable, Caitlin.”
“I don’t know what to do, Rachel. I feel like I’m always going to come second with him — to his family, to Millie, to this whole life he had before me. But I hate the thought of walking away. I love him. I made a commitment to him.”
Rachel is quiet for a moment, and then she sighs. “Caitlin…it might be time to rethink that commitment. Can you honestly say you would have said yes to Adam’s proposal if you’d known that your life together would look like this?”
Her words hang in the air, giving voice to thoughts I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge.
“Caitlin,” she continues when I don’t respond. “You know you can always come home. To us. I know Grandma’s gone, but you still have a home and a family here that loves you. You don’t have to put up with this.”
“I can’t just leave,” I say, but even as I say it, I’m not sure why not.
“Why can’t you? What’s keeping you there? A job you could get anywhere? A man who won’t prioritize you? In-laws who treat you like an inconvenience?”
Put like that, the answer seems obvious.
The thought of home, of family who love me unconditionally, brings a fresh wave of tears. “I miss it,” I admit. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” she says. “And I’m serious, come home. You can stay with me. It’ll be fun, like before you left.”
“I’m too tired to decide tonight. Let me think about what I want to do, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Well, while you’re thinking, I’m buying you a plane ticket. Just in case.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “For the day before Thanksgiving. Adam can go float around the Caribbean with his pseudo-wife and his obnoxious family, and you can come home. Mom’ll jump for joy when I tell her you’re going to be here for turkey day.”
I laugh despite myself. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m practical. And I love you. And I hate seeing you hurt like this.”
“I love you, too.” I wipe away the last of my tears. “I’ll let you know.”
“You do that. And Caitlin? You deserve someone who chooses you first. Every time. Don’t settle for less.”
After we hang up, I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The house is quiet; Adam must have gone to bed too. Or maybe he left. I’m too tired to care.
