Sending this call to voicemail would only delay the inevitable. I take a swig of water from the nightstand next to the bed. I clear my throat to make me sound awake. When I look at the time on my phone, I moan. It’s too early.
“Yeah?” I try to sound calm, but my voice comes out growly. Persy is the one who jumps to the conclusion. “Who peed in your coffee?”
“Seriously, Persy?” Nyx protests.
“Great, I have not one, but the two annoying sisters on the line,” I complain. “Do either one of you realize it’s too fucking early in the morning?”
“It’s seven your time,” Nyx responds.
“Ah, the lady isn’t in town,” I say mockingly. “Where in the world are you?”
Nyx is one of the best lawyers I know. Her law firm has offices in Oregon, New York, Seattle, and Colorado. She works mostly from home—wherever she’s at. Nate, her husband, has offices in New York, Colorado, and Seattle. They jump from one house to the other without a pattern. Other times, they stay a month or more in another country.
They plan on doing so while their children are young, not that they have many children. There are Nova and the new groin demon on board who, in my opinion, doesn’t count yet. The point is that Nate wants them to have the same life we did while growing up.
I doubt he can compare the life he plans on giving to his children with ours. Mom and Dad are archeologists. They traveled around the world to some of the oldest, most interesting sites. When we were young, they dragged us with them.
We never spent a weekend at a resort, a vacation home, or some luxury Airbnb. Our accommodations were modest. There were times when I’d share a room with my sisters. To this day I hate bunk beds—or sharing a room with someone else. Well, except for Liv, who has offered me shelter in her bed for the night. For that, I’m always willing and available.
The point is, traveling around the world so their kids can learn about other cultures, see the wonders of the world, and learn other languages is a lot different from our childhood. My sister should set her husband straight. Maybe I’m off, and he’s aware of our youth. I don’t have complaints about it. I loved every minute of it, but it was a lot different than he assumes.
“We’re still in New York,” she answers with a chirpy voice.
“You’re two hours ahead of me,” I protest. “Can you have mercy on me?”
“I’ve been up since five arranging everything for our trip to Denver,” she argues.
“What’s your excuse, Persephone?”
“Leah woke up at six?” Persy yawns.
Before I can argue that she’s lying, Nyx laughs. “I woke her up a few minutes ago.”
Leah, her daughter and one of the most adorable toddlers in the world, loves to sleep. I swear that kid was sleeping all night long before she was a month old, unlike my other niece, Nova.
That kid screamed bloody murder all night until she was six months old. I know because, along with Persy and my parents, we took turns watching her so Nate and Nyx could have some time to sleep.
“It’s Sunday.” I think. “Is there any way you can call me in a couple of hours?”
“It’s actually Saturday,” Nyx corrects me. “Were you partying last night?”
I could remind them that I’ve been in Costa Rica for the past three months building houses. This could be the right time to remind them that I stopped partying years before they did. I desist from discussing nonsense with these two. If I want to move this call along and catch a couple more hours of sleep, I have to cut to the chase.
“How are you planning on torturing me?”
They laugh. No matter how old they are, some things will never change with them. These two are like twins. I’m the poor big brother who has to keep up with them. I love them, but they can be a nuisance.
“The next time you need a babysitter, I’ll remind you of this call,” I threaten them. “If your second spawn is as demanding as you, Nyx, I’ll make sure to disappear for six months.”
“Aw, Eros is a little sensitive this morning,” Persy teases me.
“Again, why are you calling me?”
“We’re going to be in Colorado for the next couple of months,” Nyx states. “Last night, I was on the phone with my friend—”
I groan. I knew this was going to be some kind of setup.
“No!”
“You haven’t let me tell you about—”
“The answer is still no,” I interrupt her again. “I need you to stop setting me up with your friends, colleagues, or clients.”
“But she’s—”
“Or someone you met while having dinner with your husband who reminded you of me,” I pause, “Like crazy Ariana.”
She wasn’t just the worst blind date in my life. Nyx met her while shopping for baby clothes. She didn’t even know her well enough. My sister gave her my number. I had to change it… and sell my house.
“I have a restraining order against her.”
“That was Persy,” Nyx defends herself.
“It’s all the same.”
“We’re helping you find the love of your life. As far as I can tell, you’re still pining for Misty,” Persy states. “That’s unhealthy.”
They have no idea what unhealthy is. For years I’ve been enamored with a woman who might be a figment of my imagination. Liv. The blackhole her absence created sucks another piece of my soul.
What happened with her?
“It’s too early to have a conversation with you two.” I claim.
Now, Misty is a subject I don’t like to discuss. She’s been my friend since college. We’re close. In fact, when I moved from New York to Colorado, she decided to do the same.
Is she the person I’m meant to be with? I don’t know. The question came up when Richard fucking James Prince III came into the picture.
Yeah, he is as ridiculous as his name. He’s not a Prince, though his family is one of the richest in the state. That is, of course, if we don’t count my brothers-in-law’s wealth or mine. But that’s now, and not then. Back when they got engaged, I couldn’t offer her much.
I had just launched my business. How could I say, “Hey, be with me instead of that asshole,” when all I had was a house with an upside-down mortgage.
Then there’s Olivia and the millions of unanswered questions and conversations we never had. The silence we clawed to keep what we had alive. If we ever had anything.
Liv’s theory about soulmates doesn’t fit. I’m almost sure it’s not real. When you’re meant to be with someone, destiny assembles everything so that you can make things happen. Things with Live never worked; with Misty…the jury is deliberating.
Her wedding with prince got cancelled. Their relationship became a roller coaster. This could be the perfect moment for me to swoop in and say, “We make sense. Let’s give this a chance.”
My sisters are not on board with my plan. They have many different theories on why I’m so obsessed with Misty.
Persy says it’s because I’m lonely and maybe broken-hearted.
I’m not sure where she gets the broken-hearted part, and obsessed is not the right word. Fixated sounds like I’m a stalker too. There has to be a word that doesn’t sound eerie. Pining sounds like a teenager crushing on his hot teacher.