Page 57 of Over the Limit

“Exactly.” He laughs. “What’d you do? Flash that pretty smile her way?”

“I think I had some outside help. Hell, I’m still busy trying to figure out why someone as famous as her would agree to perform for us for free.”

“I’m sure it’s a write-off,” he says.

“You say that about everything.”

“Well . . .” We both laugh. “So what else is going on? You’re swamped with work, rushing to get things done that already should be done. And Rossi? Things are good with him?”

“He’s . . .” I hesitate.

“He’s Rossi, huh?” He falls quiet as I try to process my ever-changing emotions.

“Pretty much.” If two words summed up the past few weeks, those would be them.

“You know we love him, but we love you more. You’re ours. He’s just lucky enough to get us by association.”

He can’t see my smile, but it’s there. “I know.”

“I know you know, but it’s worth repeating in case you doubted it. A man does not and should never define you, Bee. You are incredible in every aspect and any man would be lucky to have you as their partner. Your worth is more important than any man’s ego.”

“I broke up with him.”

He blows out an audible exhale. A sound I can’t quite read as he’s always been fond of Oliver. I mean . . . he is basically part of our family. “Probably for good reason, right? For reasons that matter to you. It’s hard to step away from someone who has been your shadow for so long. You okay?”

Guilt from a kiss I can’t stop thinking about hits hard.

Just like it has all damn week long.

But it hasn’t made me want it to happen again any less.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I think . . . I think who we were as fifteen-year-old kids isn’t who we are now. We’ve adjusted and readjusted to try and make it work, but I just think we’re in different places. I get he is who he is—and I wouldn’t want him to be anyone else—but I am who I am, and that doesn’t mean I have to take a back seat because of it.”

“There’s my girl,” he says proudly and digs a little deeper into my guilt. “That’s a hard thing to recognize. I’m proud of you for being able to. I’m sure whatever is meant to be will be. Either Oliver will get his shit together and you’ll take him back—if that’s what you want—or you’ll find another person who appreciates you that much more and you’ll go from there.”

“True.”

“You’ve got a great head on your shoulders, so I know you’ll do what’s best for you. And if you need a break from the chaos of it all, we have chaos here at home that will welcome you with open arms.”

“I know.” And this is why my family is so important to me. Is why my dad is so easy to talk to. Both my parents have hearts of gold and always let me know that I can come home to them if I need or want to.

They have my back, support my decisions, and have always encouraged me to chase my dreams, especially regarding my career.

I’m the luckiest girl in the world and don’t ever take their love and support for granted.

We chat for a bit more about the team he started coaching, about his big plans for my mom’s birthday, and about work. All things that help me to feel like I belong. It sounds odd, but it feels so very needed.

Especially in the state of unrest my life seems to be in.

When I end the call, I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath.

What is it that I want? And why does it feel like if I even knew, it wouldn’t matter anyway?

And in those two thoughts I’m proving Lachlan Evans and his ridiculous twenty-one day theory right.

Confusion hits the minute I touched down and came home to a flat that was littered with little pieces of a life with Rossi. A life I loved living but that clearly isn’t me anymore.

Sure I’ve felt sadness but not because I wanted to get back with Rossi. It was more because I was trying to find who I was in the mess of the items I was gradually putting into a box and moving to the back of the closet. I was trying to figure out when she faded away and this new me stepped into her shoes.