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“And I’ll drop it about the hall pass too. But before I do… if you meet a hall pass contender tonight you could use it, couldn’t you?”
I massage my temples and sigh with exasperation.
She gets right up in my face. “Answer?”
“Technically, yes. And he wants me to. He gave me a list of guidelines. But I won’t. It’s too soon. I’m still processing. Personal bubble, sister.”
She takes a step back and smiles. “And what are these guidelines?”
“He doesn’t wanna know about it. Other than knowing I’m going to accept the offer, so it takes the pressure off him.”
“Which puts pressure on you. Man, he pisses me off sometimes.”
I freeze.
“Forget it,” she waves her hand. “Tell me the rest.”
“Um… he doesn’t want it to be anyone he knows. I also can’t use the hall pass on the same person twice.”
“He doesn’t want emotional attachments to happen,” Alannah surmises. “Makes sense.”
“And he doesn’t want it happening in our house, either.”
“Reasonable.”
“Can we drop it? I wanna have fun tonight and celebrate with you. I didn’t mean to hijack your celebration. I’d like to forget about all my drama for the night. Let’s let the rest of the night be about Alannah who just got well-deserved recognition in a male-dominated environment. Alannah, who I’m so, so proud of.”
“No problem.” She waves her hand. “I’m more than happy to be the center of the universe. But just sayin’… if you do happen to meet someone with Hall Pass potential tonight, even better.”
I roll my eyes. “Not happening tonight.”
She aims a big, beaming smile at me and then puts her hand on mine with affection. “Ready to dance?”
“So ready.”
“One more thing.” She leans in closer.
“What?” I ask.
She smiles, looking me right in the eyes, not blinking as I feel her grip my engagement ring and pull it off my finger.
“Alannah,” I mumble.
“Just in case,” she says, and then she puts my engagement ring onto her finger and extends her hand, admiring it.
My eyes roll.
“You never know. You might at least collect a phone number or two. Right? So, let’s go dance and see if there’s any filet mignon on offer.”
This place does feel like a meat market.
She and I slipped away from our group to the quieter section at the long, sleek, sparsely populated bar ten or fifteen minutes ago, but the place is filling up, the lighting has gone dimmer, and the thump of the bass is rising in volume and intensity.
I’m ready to succumb to that bass, realizing just how much I need a carefree night. To laugh with my friends, getting lost in a world of fun instead of feeling trapped by a bleak reality ridden with guilt and uncertainty. I down the rest of my drink before I hop off the bar stool.
I’m gonna have fun tonight. Celebrate life with my friends. Tonight, I’m just Chloe.
Not Adam’s caregiver.
