Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(20)

Isabelle pulls out her notepad before reaching for the pen behind her ear. “What can I get you both started with to drink?”

“Chocolate milkshake,” Cal and I say at the same time.

“Glad to see some things haven’t changed.” His smile returns at full blast, and I look away to prevent myself from struggling with temporary blindness.

Isabelle scribbles on her notepad. “Two chocolate milkshakes coming right up. Do you know what you want to order, or would you rather I come back in a few?”

“Will you give us another couple of minutes?” Cal asks.

“No problem, Al.” She gives my shoulder a squeeze before disappearing into the kitchen.

“She hates me, doesn’t she?”

I only offer a noncommittal shrug.

“Why?” he asks.

Because you broke my heart.

Silence settles over our table again as we both pretend to assess the menus in front of us. I’ve been visiting Early Bird Diner since I was a kid, so I can recite the whole thing from front to back without looking. There was once a time Cal could do the same thing, although it doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.

My heart squeezes at the reminder.

Cal fidgets in his seat for a whole minute before gaining the nerve to speak again. “Do you know what you’re going to order?”

“I’m good with a milkshake.” I slap my menu shut.

“I thought you would at least order the most expensive thing on the menu just to spite me.”

“If I wanted to spite you, I’d aim for something a little better than your wallet.”

“Like where?”

“A kick to the balls is always a good place to start.”

His head drops back as he laughs. The sound is hearty and loud, drawing everyone’s eyes toward our table. Even I find myself staring at him. I blame Cal’s ability to draw everyone in like he is the center of our solar system. Because if Cal is the sun, then the rest of us are aimless planets revolving around him, tragically trapped in his orbit.

Isabelle must sense my desperation as she interrupts us with our milkshakes and taking Cal’s order.

I clasp my hands in front of me. “Let’s get to the real reason why you asked for this meeting.”

He fidgets with his hands. “We need to sell the place by the end of the summer.”

My heart rate picks up at the very idea. “But I don’t want to sell it.”

“Do you have the money to buy me out of my half?” The way he asks the question without a hint of condescension makes me wonder if he actually thinks I can.

A metallic taste fills my mouth from biting down on my tongue. “No, but if you give me a year or two, I’m sure I could figure it out.”

His head shakes. “I don’t have that kind of time.”

“What’s the rush?”

He swallows hard. “I need to move on with my life, and I can’t do that if I have this house hanging over my head like a ghost of summers past.”

My chest feels as if it might split in half from his words. “So, you just expect me to uproot mine instead?”

“I know it’s not ideal, but I’m hoping that the money will at least partially make up for it. For what that place is probably worth, you could get a new house and set up a decent savings account.”

“And you care about that because…”

His gaze cuts into mine. “I want what’s best for you, and no amount of time or distance will change that.”

I make a noise in the back of my throat because I don’t trust my voice. His words have the unique power to thaw some of the ice around my heart. Bits and pieces of ice break off, melting from the way he looks at me like I might still mean something to him.

If you did, he would have gotten sober and come back to fight for you.

He taps his fingers against the table in a mindless pattern. “I’m not asking you to move out tomorrow. You can spend one last summer there with Cami before we close on the house.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Do we have a deal then?”

“Stop making it sound like I actually have a choice,” I lash out.

He raises his hands in front of him. “I’m not here to cause problems.”

“Except you are the problem, Cal. Always have been and always will be.”

“At least I’m consistent at something.” He dares to smile.

My fingernails embed themselves into my thighs. “Have you changed at all in the last six years?”

“Of course.” He raises his chin.

“But you’re still drinking.” And using God knows what else.

There is no point in pretending Cal doesn’t have a problem. I already did that once, and it only caused me heartache in the end. It took me a long time to realize loving someone didn’t mean accepting them for all their faults, but to call them out on their issues because you care enough to not want them to suffer.

I was just too young when Cal and I first got together to understand that concept.

“Contrary to popular belief, my addiction doesn’t make up my entire personality, although my brothers and the media sure like to make it seem that way.” He keeps his voice light despite the tightness in his jaw.

“I know that.” Which is exactly why having a front-row seat to him spiraling was that much more painful. I knew the person he was while on opioids and alcohol didn’t hold a candle to the man I knew he could be.