03 | la réunion

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THE HUM OF my sister's refrigerator filled the otherwise quiet kitchen as I took out a large tub of ice cream and a bottle of water.

I was passionately trying to prevent the inevitable—spending three minutes washing my hands and scrubbing between my fingers, playing imaginary rock paper scissors with the contents of Coco's fridge in order to reach the verdict that ice cream would always come first, no matter what—so even after gently setting the tub of Ben & Jerry's on the white marble countertop, I went to check the pantry for snacks.

I already had a vague idea of what my excuse would be if I was confronted with any question that threatened the authenticity and or credibility of my whereabouts these past ten-ish minutes, and snacks played a very big role in it.

In the distance, I could hear their voices, as faint as the half-moons on my palms. The excited yipping of his corgi, Lulu, was significantly louder, the sound tearing down the hallway from the living room as if trying to remind me where the rest of life was.

Nervous wasn't good enough a word to describe how I was feeling.

I had no idea how I was going to do this. After everything we did, after everything we said to each other, after everything else that happened, how was I supposed to do this?

Was I just going to walk oh-so casually into the living room and put a smile on my face, pretending I was happy to see him and, in turn, happy with this plot twist in my life?

To me, he was as good as dead these past six months, so what was I to expect now that he was back? Was he taller?

"Cleo!" The snappiness of the voice startled me, and I nearly dropped the bags of chips I was cradling. "What are you doing back there?"

I quietly cleared out the lump blocking my throat, then called out, "Just grabbing some snacks! I'll be right there."

To stall some more, I dropped the five or so bags I took from the pantry on the  countertop and just stared at them. Deep down, I knew I was being ridiculous. I was Cleo Lavigne, for Pete's sake. I wasn't nervous about anything. I reigned over adversity. I brandished hardships like I was a knight and they had been compressed to form one sword. I'd been doing so for years, and I wasn't going to stop now.

Why should Takoda get to act like everything that happened was just a blip in time, throwing birthday parties and posting emotional videos on social media, while I hid in my sister's kitchen? If anyone was to lose their mind here, it was him.

I just hoped that even after the half-hearted pep talk, the wariness wasn't obvious in my expression.

As I grabbed two spoons for Robin and I from the utensil drawer, my gaze was drawn outside the sliding door to the infamous patio. The scene of the crime. The spot of the meeting that marked the beginning of many to come. My chest was unbearably tight, an ache throbbing just beneath my sternum. When I tried to inhale, I found out my breath was shaky, but didn't let it stop me. I took everything on the counter with expertise, and made my way back out.

Coco's house fell away the further I went, and for a few seconds, I could hear nothing but my unsteady breathing, the rapid rhythm in my chest, the quiet voice in my head, reminding me of who I was and what I stood for.

There was nothing for me to be scared of.

The moment I stepped back into the living room, reality hit me with the force of a train. The smell of his cologne, the same one he'd been using for years, had filled the entire room in the short time he'd been there, immediately invading my senses and making that ache start to burn. Lulu noticed me walk in and excitedly darted in my direction, running between and around my legs before I could fully register her.

When she sat in front of my feet, her tongue out and fluffy tail wagging with the same pace my heart was beating with, I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, girl," I said, hearing the breathlessness in my voice. Lulu yipped at me in response. "Wow, she said hey back. I must be very memorable."

Coco laughed from her new position next to Takoda, leaning an arm against the top of the couch I'd vacated a few minutes ago. I knew he was there, but it took me a moment longer to actually see him.

Then I stopped breathing.

He was regarding me with a familiar smile on his face, and there was something unintentional about it. It looked like a subconscious action, something his body had been trained to do when faced with a certain trigger. I only drew that conclusion because I couldn't think of a reason why he was looking at me like that after everything he did.

I didn't want to admit it, but he looked a lot better than the last time I saw him. His face had lost most of the softness it once held, his features more defined now, more like a man's. His jawline was sharper, honey brown eyes looking much wiser, much brighter. Happier. His hair was longer, too, lowered at the sides to complement the grown-up jaw.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but Takoda Calebs looking as great as he did wasn't it, and I didn't know what exactly about it upset me, but I stopped feeling nervous, the emotion quickly replaced by a sizzling anger.

He must've sensed the change in my demeanor. Either that or he realized that he was smiling at me, because his amusement took a slow plunge until his eyes softened into something more thoughtful around the edges.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," my mom said, pulling me out of my daze, and I quickly averted my eyes before anyone noticed that I was staring.

On cue, Lulu stood on her hind legs and briefly placed her front paws on my legs. Her eyes were just like his were a second ago, sparkling with all the joy of a creature who had minimal problems in life. There was no way I couldn't not love her.

I looked at an astonishingly quiet Robin to weigh her reaction, and was marginally thankful to see her fingers moving with rapid speed against her phone screen. "Robin, can you help me with these?"

She glanced away from the device in her hand before muttering, "One sec," and returning to it. She was probably responding to some business emails or something along that line, because the Robin Rousseau I'd known for five years wouldn't be on her phone when she could be giving me sly looks from across the room.

"I'll help you." Coco got up from the couch and came over to me, taking the ice cream tub and spoons before the chips.

"Thank you," I told her, before crouching in front of Lulu and turning my hands palms up.

I wasn't expecting her to remember the little thing I'd trained her to do over a year ago, but she did, lifting her front paws again and placing them in my hands. When I released a surprised laugh, she barked again, her tail wagging even more furiously than earlier.

Takoda's eyes lingered on me, or us, or whatever, but I distracted myself from his fervent gaze by scratching the energetic corgi behind her ears and taking her in my arms. She was heavier than I remembered, and a quick mental math informed me that she was almost two years old. Takoda adopted her shortly after our first meeting two years ago.

I couldn't believe it had been two years.

My mom was cooing at us, but I mostly focused on putting one foot in front of the other on my way to the couch so I didn't trip or do something equally embarrassing.

"Why do I smell a weird vibe between the both of you?"

The question came from Coco as I lowered myself next to Robin, unfortunately getting a clear view of Takoda and giving him a clear view of me. He was still looking at me. Also unfortunately.

My sister's observation drew Robin's attention, and she looked up like she just realized the weight of the situation we were in. She took Takoda in, then me and the corgi curled up in my lap, before meeting my eyes with her wide, suggestive ones. I immediately wished she would go back to her phone. She couldn't be subtle to save her life.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, feigning the emotion that was once second nature to me—disinterest.

Coco glanced at her best friend, and I glanced at mine, silently warning her to behave. If she blew this for me, I would snap. "You literally acted like you didn't see him."

Of course. She'd make this look like my fault. "I didn't hear him acknowledge me," I tried to counter. Coco had a bad habit of defending him, and I guess I could understand that. I defended Robin when I had to. It was what best friends did.

But I didn't like it when it was at my expense.

"He asked where you were when he came in, and even though you weren't here to hear it, I consider that acknowledgement."

I swallowed my pride and forced myself to look at him, to take in those eyes of his that I certainly didn't miss. "Well, in that case, I acknowledge you too, Mr. Calebs. How was the land of the dead?"

Takoda laughed, softly. He freaking laughed.

"We didn't have attitude down there, so it was a nice escape. Though a quite boring one."

"Ah, I see. Explains why I didn't hear from you for six months."

"No," Coco interjected, turning to look at him like he'd just murdered her favorite song. Good. She didn't know.

"Yup. It honestly feels like I'm looking at a ghost."

She gave his arm a slap. "You seriously just sat here and let me blame her. You basically ghosted my sister."

His smile wasn't completely gone when he said, "I didn't ghost anyone. I was on a hiatus."

"Yeah. But you finally responded to my billion texts in February."

"Me, too," my mom offered from Robin's other side.

"And me two months ago."

It was my turn to look at someone like I'd just caught them committing murder. Robin had been texting Takoda and I didn't know about it? "Are you being serious right now?"

"I could show you if you want," she responded, not quite catching onto my mood. In fact, she was smiling, finding this amusing for some reason. Screw her.

"Well, you guys are my best friends," Takoda said. "That's different. I reached out in order of importance."

Instantly, my mom flung a throw pillow across the room at him, and he caught it with a laugh, the suddenness of his movement causing a lock of hair—that was long enough to touch his cheek—to fall sideways over his face. With his eyes creasing at the corners, he pushed it back, his hand lingering there for a moment. I caught a glimpse of black ink on his inner wrist, and it sent a lightning-fast jolt through me. Before I could get a good look at it, though, he put his hand down.

Was that a tattoo?

Lulu suddenly lifted her head from my lap to assess me with puppy dog eyes, and it was only then that I realized that the burn in my chest was starting to sting. She was picking up on my emotions. To calm her down, I ran a hand through the fur on her back, and she lay back down after snuggling closer to me.

I reached out in order of importance.

Yeah. Good riddance.

I ended up not having any of the ice cream, remaining where I was on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through Etsy to see if something would catch my eye. I mostly ignored their conversation, and Robin nudged me once to ask if I was okay. I told her I was. Another lie.

After a while of zero affection from me, Lulu jumped off my lap and went to Takoda. She wanted him to play with her, judging by her energy. She ran in a circle in front of him, then stopped and faced him, letting out another bark.

He watched her for a moment, then said, "I forgot your treats in the car." She barked again. "So you want me to get them?" Yet another bark, her tail wagging like crazy. "All right, let's go."

She was already on her way out of the living room before he could even get to his feet, almost slipping on the tiles from the adrenaline rush, and briefly, Takoda's eyes locked with mine, but I quickly looked away and shifted my attention back to my phone.

"That's so cute," Coco commented, and I heard a replay of the moment that just passed coming from her phone. She'd recorded a video I would probably see on Instagram later.

The second Takoda left the room, I felt like I could breathe better.

"Hey," Robin whispered beside me, and I hummed in response without looking at her. I couldn't look at her right now. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You look a little pale."

"You do look pale today," my mom voiced. "I noticed this morning."

"Really?" I asked, wiping my free hand over my forehead like that would help anything.

"Yeah."

"I guess I'm just tired. It's been an insane week."

"You should get some rest. Maybe you're coming down with something. Where's she staying, Coco?"

As my sister told my mom that Robin and I were going to stay with her in her room, I noticed that the latter was still looking at me, looking unsatisfied with my answer. She didn't believe me.

I got the chance to take a nap, and by the time I woke up in Coco's cloud-like bed, the day was nearly over, and the memory of Takoda had dulled until it almost felt like a bad dream. If it hadn't been for the distant ache in my chest, I probably would've doubted his presence here.

More suitcases occupied my sister's room now, and I could hear the chatter from downstairs, signaling that her other guests had arrived. She'd invited a whole bunch of them—both family and friends—from across New York and California, even one of her childhood best friends all the way from our hometown in France.

Dragging myself away from the bliss that existed within these four walls would feel like torture. I hadn't seen most of them in years, and that meant it was going to be catching up after catching up for me. I hated social gatherings.

The carpet in her room was even softer than the one in mine, and I almost didn't want to move after sinking my feet into it. But I remembered the ridiculous amount of time I'd spent hiding away earlier and told myself that it was enough for one day. Besides, what had I gotten from it? He'd indirectly told me that I was the least important person in his life, and while we were filming, too.

I didn't care if he was joking. What mattered was that it hurt, and that there had to be some truth in it. He'd reached out to everyone except me.

I'd planned to painful detail the several ways I'd ignore him when he finally texted me. I was feeling bitter, outraged and betrayed, all at once, so the best thing I could do back then was visualize the most dramatic situations.

One of them involved me moving on, forgetting about everything, meeting a great guy, one that valued me and showered me with that unconditional kind of love that everyone craved, while Takoda never found happiness. He would be in the aftermath of a string of multiple failed relationships when one day, while cruising around with my great boyfriend—or maybe husband—we'd cross paths again. I'd look hot. I'd be cordial. Heck, I'd even be freaking nice to the guy, because I assumed by then, none of this would matter anymore. I'd have forgiven him and thrown away the key.

That scenario always ended with me introducing Takoda to my new man and going on my way after a friendly conversation and friendlier goodbye, promising to catch up over dinner sometime when I had no plans of actually doing that, and with Takoda left behind, rolling in regret that cost more than anything he'd ever owned.

It was funny to remember all of that now. Several months later, I was still feeling bitter, outraged and betrayed, and I still scowled at any guy that dared to show interest in me—Robin told me in her sage wisdom that men preferred approachable women, translated to mean that I should invest in smiling more, but screw men—while he was back, looking like he'd been at some retreat the whole time, practicing yoga or Chinese geomancy or something.

I took my phone to check the time and was a little surprised to see the text he'd sent me earlier still on my lock screen.

Hey.

Hey was all I deserved. No follow-up sentences. No explanations. Just hey.

I hadn't opened it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I still had his number saved on my phone. I should've deleted it a long time ago, right after he wrung me dry and tossed me aside like I was a dirty rag. Like I was worthless.

On an impulse, I unlocked my phone and navigated to my contacts, scrolling until I found his number. Once, I'd changed the way I saved his name from Takoda to just a C—for Calebson, his legal last name—with a knife emoji, in an attempt to be subtle. But after Robin caught my phone ringing several times and started making snide remarks, in true Robin fashion, about my business with this mystery person that was refusing to leave me alone, I'd changed it back.

My finger hovered over delete for a moment too long. I was positive that I didn't need any reminders of him, but at the same time, it vaguely felt like I was ripping away a part of me. Erasing a memorable—albeit extremely sad—part of history. It wasn't like I called or texted him or anything, and up until this morning, all I'd gotten from him was radio silence, so was this really necessary?

I could barely recognize my thought process. Was I seriously overthinking deleting someone's number from my phone? And it wasn't like that someone meant anything to me. Not anymore, at least.

Just as I was about to hit the command, I heard a door open somewhere down the hallway, and as quickly as I'd pulled up his number, I went back to my home screen and forced myself out of bed.

I'd cleaned off my makeup and changed into shorts and a flimsy tank top before my nap, so I felt much more comfortable now, but I still checked my appearance in Coco's full-length mirror to make sure there wasn't a hair strand out of place. Aside from the puffy eyes and pale cheeks gifted to me by sleep, I looked all right, and for a split second, I wondered if Takoda thought my appearance had changed the same way I thought his had.

Shaking the thought out of my head, I slipped my phone into one of the pockets of my shorts and walked out of my sister's room with all the confidence of someone who knew what she was doing. Though I couldn't get my mind off the fact that beneath my tank top was a strapless bra that didn't cover much, and couldn't stop the onslaught of self-consciousness when I realized that if a certain someone looked close enough, he'd see my—

My steps slowed to a halt when I noticed the room before the stairs.

The door was open a quarter of the way, casting a rectangle of

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