Truly Madly Deeply: Chapter 82

“Emotions”—Mariah Carey

I managed to spend the duration of my flight to Maine not crying on anyone’s shoulder or exhibiting any mentally unstable behavior.

I found Mamushka and Dylan eating pickles in my parents’ kitchen. Gravity was glued to Dylan’s boob like a magnet, suckling greedily on what appeared to be a full family-sized pizza nipple. Dylan looked gorgeous—like she hadn’t popped out a giant baby a month ago—glossy hair, flawless complexion, and a body that would make Elle Macpherson weep with envy. I was panting from running the short way from my rental car to the kitchen, catching my breath as I slouched onto an empty chair in my dining room. “I screwed up,” I declared.

“You’re going to have to be much more specific than that.” Dylan unlatched a sleepy Gravity from her nipple and handed her over to my mom, who immediately put her on her shoulder for a burp. They seemed to have a system going. I was glad Mom had Dylan and Gravity to keep her company after Dad’s passing. I also made a mental note to ask for a Tucker update. I’d been avoiding the subject in recent days, knowing Dylan found the subject uncomfortable.

“Row.” I grabbed the edges of the dining table, catching my breath. “I screwed it all up with Row. He’s the one.”

“Is this a love declaration?” Dylan picked up her half-eaten pickle, leisurely munching on the tip.

“Yes, Dylan, it is the mother of all love declarations.” I snapped my fingers. “Pay attention.”

My confession was met with a loud, earnest burp from Gravity. “There you are, sweetie!” Mamushka laughed, cooing at Grav, who didn’t even bother to wake up for the eructation of stomach air. “That’s a good girl.”

“Mom, did you hear what I said?” I eyeballed her through angry slits. I was spilling my darkest secret on the kitchen floor and these two—well, technically, three—didn’t seem to give two shits.

“I did,” Mamushka confirmed, placing Gravity inside her car seat on the table for her nap. “Good for you, Callichka.”

I whipped my head to my best friend. Maybe she’d understand the weight of this situation. “I figured it out. This was why I slept with Row all those years ago behind your back. Not because I was a shitty friend. But because I was in love with him. Am in love with him. I never stopped being in love with him. He was always the one. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

Dylan stared at me wordlessly, a small smile on her lips.

“Oh. Sorry for the TMI confession, Mom.” I cringed.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” She patted my arm. “I figured out the cause of your rift long ago.”

“Well?” I probed Dylan. “Isn’t that shocking?”

“Hmm.” Dylan nodded obediently, plucking a heart of palm from her plate and taking a crunchy bite. “Riveting. The local news is on their way.”

What was happening? I’d thought Dylan would be thrilled to hear Row’s love for me was reciprocated.

“Wait a minute…” My face fell. “Oh, shit.”

“There’s a baby in the room,” Mom chided with a scandalized gasp.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Yup.” Dylan rolled her eyes, giving my mother an exasperated look. “Baby’s still here, but go ahead, please ruin my child’s delicate ears.”

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” My stare ping-ponged between them. “About me being in love with Row. You’re not impressed because it was all clear to you.”

“Bingo.” Mom saluted me with her cup of tea in the air.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I shifted my gaze between them accusingly.

“Would you have listened?” Dylan asked.

“Yes!” I flung my arms in the air. “Of course I would’ve.”

All Dylan needed to do was elevate one carefully plucked brow.

“Fine, I would have fought you until my last breath and denied it through my teeth. But oh my God, this sucks so bad. I’m in love with a man who was in love with me and tried to make it work, and all I did was stand in our way like an idiot!” I buried my face in my hands, placing my elbows on the table.

“Is.” Dylan washed down her pickled meal with a Liquid I.V. drink.

“What?” I moaned into my palms.

“A man who is in love with you. Present tense. It’s not too late.”

“He’s in London now.” I sulked, looking up to glance between them. “That is so, so far away.”

Now that I wasn’t high on my own supply with finishing the podcast, I was afraid he’d forgotten all about me. He hadn’t answered me back, had he? And I’d texted him plenty.

“There’s this thing…” Mamushka frowned, stroking her chin. “I heard about it the other day in the news…can move really fast in the air.”

“I know which one you mean.” Dylan turned to look at her, putting a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “That big metal thing? Long wings? Gross preprepared meals? Very crowded.”

“Yes. I think it’s called a helicopter…no, an eagle…” Mamushka looked deep in thought.

“A plane!” Dylan exclaimed. They high-fived each other.

“Way ahead of you. Already bought a ticket,” I announced. Because even if he rejected me, it would still be worth it.

Row was worth it.

Worth getting my heart broken.

Worth trying and failing.

Worth breaking my bank account and my savings for a ticket to a foreign land I’d never been to.

Worth sitting in a metal tube for half a day, basking in the unknown, headed to a love declaration that was one hundred percent going to be awkward and klutzy, like my entire being.

“So what do you need from us, exactly?” Dylan frowned.

“Some help finding a few things in the clutter that is my room.” I pushed up my sleeves. “I’m going to win him back if it’s the last thing I do.”

Mom grinned. “Your father would be so proud. Go get him, Callichka.”