Page 45 of The Other Side

Some may label that unhealthy, but Callie and I were never meant for the normal, average life.

Our love was intense. Extreme. Our beauty wasn’t found in where we lived, what we looked like, or how popular we were.

It was found in the way our souls connected.

I’ve been wondering if our love is still that powerful. Still strong enough to defy as many odds as we did back then.

Still magnetic enough to bring two doves back together.

* * *

I purposely suggested a 2:30 meeting with Jesse. He agreed to the time, and all I need to do is prolong my visit as much as possible. Go through every stitch of the two drawings I made up, praying my luck doesn’t run out before Callie’s Range Rover shows up.

The two floor plans are laid out between us on the dining room table. Jesse stands opposite me, his palms resting on the mahogany surface as he leans forward to snag a better view. “If I’m being honest, these drawings imply a smaller space than I originally anticipated,” he remarks.

“When you consider setback requirements, the house can’t encroach twenty feet from the property line,” I explain.

“Alright,” he says, continuing to shuffle his eyes around the large pieces of paper. “I’m not loving the placement of the door, but I can understand why you put it there.”

“You always want to make sure when you open the door, you have an unobstructed path to walk when you initially enter the room. This placement avoids the line of the pool table and the theater portion.”

“Yeah, I get it.” His dismissive tone causes me to bite my tongue. If I don’t, I’ll wind up asking him why he even mentioned anything at all.

“The space is twenty by twenty-five. I know that’s smaller than you may have originally thought, but I can assure you that you’re fitting everything you want more than comfortably,” I offer.

“Seems to look that way, so it’s growing on me. I’ve also been considering what you said. About building the addition from the living room as opposed to the kitchen, and I did my own research afterward,” Jesse says, straightening up. “I never trust a first opinion. It’s the businessman in me.”

“No offense taken,” I respond, genuinely siding with him on that.

“So, we’ll go ahead with the addition from the living room.”

“Okay, great.” I flash a smile as I nod. “I’ll start reaching out to contractors and interior designers. Then you’ll have to look at materials and finishes.”

Jesse slips his hands into the pockets of his trademark black slacks. “I’d like a list of who you’re reaching out to. I want to make sure I’m involving my money with people who are reputable. Not just those who are subcontracted out by your firm. I know you’re going to hype them up regardless, so I want to make sure I know what I’m getting into.”

Bite your tongue, Brant.

“I can absolutely do that for you by the end of today. Once we pick our team, we can move forward.”

Both our heads turn when the front door swings open from the foyer. My heart damn near leaps out of my chest knowing I haven’t seen or spoken to her since Saturday night.

Not because I haven’t wanted to reach out by phone, but because we got too close for comfort for Callie’s sake.

Do I care about hurting Jesse? Fuck no.

Do I care about making Callie’s life tougher? Always.

“In here, babe!” Jesse calls out.

I peer down, running a hand over my head. The tapping of Callie’s heels accelerates my heartbeat, and she eventually enters the dining room. She’s in high-waisted black trousers with a polka dot blouse tucked into them. My gaze traces her chestnut waves cascading over her bare arms, and her eyes lock modestly on mine.

“Hi, how are you?” she greets.

“I’m good, you?”

Her palm curls around the strap of her tote bag as she inches closer. “Busy day at work, but I’m okay.” When she idles at the end of the table, she peeks up at Jesse. “How do the plans look?”

“I picked a good one,” he praises before flicking a glance my way. “Brant’s a natural.”