Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“Hey.” He listens for a few seconds. “Yeah, sorry. I was going to call you. What time is her game? Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks, see you tomorrow.” He ends his call.
“T-ball game?” my dad asks.
Colten nods, taking another bite of food.
“I’d love to see her. Can I go?” I ask.
Colten glances over at me. He doesn’t say anything at first, so I shrug.
“It’s fine. I don’t have to go. I should probably go to my house and sort through things before I go back with my parents.”
“You can go. She’d love to see you. I haven’t told her that you’re …”
“Alive?” I assume that’s what he’s trying to say.
“She thinks you’re missing. That’s all.”
I nod.
After dinner, my parents decide to head to my house. “You should stay with us since you can’t take the stairs,” Mom says.
“I carried her last night,” Colten says.
“Yes, but that’s silly when she can sleep in her own bed.”
I know my mom doesn’t mean to disregard all of Colten’s suggestions. She misses me. I guess they all miss me. Why don’t I feel more missed and less of a burden?
“I thought my bed was her bed,” he mumbles. I’m not sure she even hears him as he grabs my overnight bag from the bottom of the stairs where he set it when we arrived.
My dad takes the bag while my mom holds open the door.
I smile at them. “I’ll meet you outside in a minute.”
They nod and shut the door behind them.
“You brought them here. And I’m grateful, truly. But you can’t expect them to say hi and leave like it’s no big deal. Would you do that to Reagan?”
Colten slides his hands in his front pockets and inches his head side to side. He’s incredibly quiet. I don’t know how to make this better. Make this, whatever this is, go away. There’s no roadmap for this.
“Do you want to pick me up tomorrow, or should I meet you at the park?”
“I’ll pick you up at ten.” He stares at the floor between us.
“Sounds good.”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Good night,” I say, opening the door barely an inch before he steps behind me.
His hands rest on my shoulders, and his lips press to the top of my head, staying there for several long seconds. I draw in a shaky breath and blink back my tears. I just want to be in his arms. I want to be me before all of this. I want to have him chase me up the stairs and jump on the bed as I try to get away from him, giggling and taunting him before he captures me.
Before we lose our clothes.
Before he loses himself inside of me, and I lose myself so completely to him.
“Good night,” he whispers before taking a step away.
The loss of his touch feels like an unwelcome chill.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I’ve stopped trying to hold it together. Josie’s going back to Des Moines. My heart is nothing more than pea gravel on a playground, getting trampled without a second thought.
Before my fist makes contact with Josie’s door, Isaac opens it. Josie smiles at me for a brief second, then she frowns. “Don’t say anything about my hat. Izzy let me sit at her vanity to do my hair. I don’t have a seat. So … it’s a mess.”
“You look pretty,” I say.
Her gaze shoots to mine. I offer a tiny smile that feels forced because I don’t know if references to our past matter anymore.
“Thanks,” she says softly.
“See you after a bit,” Isaac says.
She doesn’t wait for me. Not my help. Not even for me to offer her help. It’s hard to see her fight for independence when I know she’s feeling so helpless. I don’t know where I fit with her right now. She’s leaving Chicago, so that feels like a strong sign that I don’t fit anywhere in her life at the moment.
“How’s her team doing?” Josie asks on the way to Reagan’s game. She asks a lot of questions that have nothing to do with us. Anything to fill the void, I suppose. That painful silence.
“We can go over the gravel or take the long way on the sidewalk. I can carry you,” I say when she steps out of the car.
“I’ll take the sidewalk. You can take the gravel. I don’t want you to miss any of her game.”
“We have time.” I lock the car, and we take the long way to her field.
“Hey.”
I glance up. “Hey,” I reply to Layla.
“I was going to check in on you, but I didn’t want to pry.” Her gaze ping-pongs between Josie and me.
I’m a dick. I should have called her or messaged her. My brain has been spinning for the last two days. How do I explain Josie coming back from the dead? “I should have messaged you. Sorry.” I nod toward Josie. “Layla, this is Josie. Josie this is Layla. Her daughter Nora and Reagan are friends.”