Page 148 of The Other Side

Debra’s propping her elbow on the small table. She’s resting her chin in her palm as she studies my face. Jared’s engaged in conversation with someone in my peripheral, so I’m left to entertain this discussion.

Thanks, Jared.

Luckily, wit was always my strong suit. “Just thinking about how awkward it’s going to get when the attention is on me.”

Debra laughs, her fingers whisking her feathered strands from her temple. “That’s what the bar is for. Come on, you should at least get one.”

A slanted smile creeps across my face, and I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.” Then I drag my gaze around the black-tie crowd. “You think I should have worn a suit jacket and tie?”

“What? No,” Debra scoffs. “You look as handsome as ever. This is supposed to be business casual, but you know how some of these people are. You’ve been to a few networking events.”

When my eyes return to her, I narrow them in debate. “I probably should have gone with the jacket.”

She laughs. “Why didn’t you? Not that you need one …”

I gently scrunch my nose, peeking around the room again. “I don’t know,” I answer. “Me and upscale places don’t exactly mesh naturally.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, her stare pensive.

“I’ve always appreciated the smaller things in life,” I confess. “Venues like this are great, don’t get me wrong. I just feel out of place.”

Debra raises her brows. “Well, you didn’t look out of place when you were talking to that blonde.”

She never misses a beat. Not a single detail, no matter how pixelated. But just as I’m about to toss her a rebuttal, Jared leans in to let us know they’re moving everyone to the ballroom to start presentations.

Debra and Jared escort their drinks to the main area, and I let them know I’m stepping outside.

Just for a minute.

I dig my hands into my trouser pockets, inching a few slow steps along the paved pathway. I’m the only one venturing outside as a handful of people voyage their way back in. Strangely enough, it feels exactly how it should.

Women dressed to the nines in their cocktail dresses and men in full suits. Then there’s me…donning a white dress shirt and slacks. Sleeves cuffed at my elbows and the top two buttons undone.

But I like it this way.

I was never the person who desired to blend into a crowd or follow the pack. I’ve always just been ... me.

I softly squint, padding down the brick pavers lined with trimmed hedges. At the very end of the trail is a low-sitting reflecting pool, two white pergolas and trellises stationed on either side. Bright pink and yellow shrubs frame the outside of the pool, and the evening glow shimmers atop the ripples of the water.

My movement halts, body stopping to absorb the scene and sweet aroma. So many colors trap my attention, but the beauty comes up short.

Tonight represents more than the recognition of my work as an architect. It means more than receiving an award and taking a photo.

Tonight isn’t for me.

It’s for him.

Tonight is for the boy who grew up in a trailer park in Willowhart. Whose only hope to be successful was to live on a prayer.

It’s for the boy who endured heartache day after day because his mom cared more about a bottle of vodka than she did her own kid. Tonight is letting that boy know I didn’t forget him. That all the agony he was forced to endure wasn’t for nothing.

A lot of days, I miss that boy.

There are plenty more opportunities here. Lower hurdles to jump. But the framework of my soul still sits under those loblolly pine trees. I didn’t take it when I left because she was the one who built the foundation with me.

Every tale of my past is laced within Callie’s eyes. When I look into them, it’s like she’s telling me the stories from her perspective. It’s free of judgment and disgust. She makes sure to highlight the good.

She has this ability to dissolve my emotional wounds. She always has. That’s another thing about the other side I never realized before.