His brow knits together as he stares up at me. “You good?”

God, how do I even answer that?

Nodding, I rest back against the seat, my eyes trained ahead. “Fine.” Tension makes my stomach clench. I feel nauseous. I pray I don’t puke all over the dark leather interior.

My vocabulary diminishes to one word responses the entire trip home, not that there’s ample conversation flowing between us. Reed is deathly quiet for the most part, only asking me if I want to listen to music, if I’m hungry, and if I want him to stop. I can’t eat. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it. I give him my answers while I stare out the window, never turning my head.

Two and a half hours feels like a lifetime. I bite my cheek when I feel the threat of tears, the pain distracting me, harnessing my focus on the metallic taste coating my tongue. I can’t cry. Not yet. Not when I still need to let go of him.

Reed pulls into the driveway and shifts into park. I have so much to say, but so little is needed.

He breaks the silence first as I’m shoving the harness off my shoulders.

“I’m going to head over to Ben’s to finish up the deck. I’m fucking wiped, so, I’ll probably just crash after.”

Our eyes lock. My arms suddenly feel heavier, my limbs sticking to the seat.

That’s all he has to say to me. Indeed, so little is needed.

I turn away and tug on the door handle. “Thank you for what you said to my dad, and for helping me through that. That meant a lot to me.”

“Of course,” he replies easily. No stammer to his words.

I turn around after climbing out of the truck.

His eyes search my face, so strange in color, then shift to the clock on the dash. “I should go. Get started so I’m not trying to hammer down shit at night. That didn’t work out so well for me before.”

His words are like a hand pushing me away. This is it. Just go.

“Okay. Yeah, sorry.” My voice catches, but I hide it with a quick cough.

I step back after closing the door, my eyes following his truck as he backs out of the driveway. Dust hovers an inch above the dirt road behind him, settling after a few minutes.

Yeah, I stand there for minutes, thinking he’ll actually come back. Believing he’ll realize he forgot to tell me he loves me too.

Hope is a funny thing. Even when you think you have none, it refuses to lie down quietly. In the darkest moments of my life, I’ve always had hope. Why would I expect any different now?

The house is empty, the curtains pulled, keeping out the vibrant sky. Hattie and Danny are gone, most likely at the bar. I pack like a hurricane ripping through the house. Bed made, quilt neatly tucked in at the corners, leaving it just like I first saw it weeks ago.

With a heavy mind, I sit on the edge of the mattress and pull the cash I’ve made working at McGill’s out of the drawer. I roughly flatten out the bills.

A little over three hundred dollars. That’s a couple nights in a hotel, some food, not much. If I burn through that, I’ll have nothing. I know where having nothing leads me. I can’t live in my car again, but I can’t stay here. I can’t be this close to Reed and let him go.

I’ll continue to love him in Ruxton. I might forget I ever met him somewhere else.

I have one option that keeps me from losing everything I have. One option I can at least build on until I find something else.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen out of the office and carry it into the kitchen. My duffle waits for me by the front door.

What do I say to people who gave me so much when I only wanted to know them?

Tears wet the paper as my hand moves with an energy I didn’t think I had anymore. I tell them how grateful I am for everything, how I’ll never forget them. I thank them for their kindness and love. Lifting my pen, I gather my explanation for my swift departure. I don’t want them to worry. They have to understand, this has nothing to do with them.

Under my name, I ask them to tell Reed goodbye for me. To tell him I’m sorry and that I’ll miss him, even when I don’t want to. I leave my note for them on the table underneath the corner of a placement. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I turn it off and set it on top of my goodbye.

Once again, time is my enemy. Eight hours in the car, two stops for gas, and one food break happens in a blur of headlights and highways. I’m back in front of that same house I left only weeks ago before my hands stop shaking. Or maybe I’m just now beginning to tremble.

The strap of my duffle digs into my shoulder as I walk up the stone steps. My fist hits the door, my head lowers when it opens. A familiar hand caresses my cheek.

“Knew you’d be back. Fuckin’ knew it.”

I wince at his voice, at the way his fingers linger on my skin as if he has any right to touch me. Leaning away from his hand, I wait for him to move out of the doorway. He takes great pleasure in this, me, needing him, crawling back so quickly.

I’ve survived this before. I can do it again until I find something else.

With an elaborate sweep of his hand, he gestures for me to walk inside.

“Thank you.”

He takes great pleasure in that as well. My gratitude, lifting the corners of his mouth into the most deceiving smile I’ve ever seen.

I’m sure the devil smiles too. I’m sure it’s just as alluring.

He leans against the wall, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. “How’d the whole family thing turn out?” he asks behind me as I make my way toward the bedroom.

I stop almost to the door, my hand flattening against the wall. Slipping my fingers underneath the strap of the duffle, I pull my shoulders back and move with purpose.

Rocco finds my strength amusing, his cruel chuckle rumbling in the air like a storm in the distance, seeping into the bedroom after I collapse onto the bed.

I cry into the pillow, thinking about Reed and how sweet his laugh sounds.

Reed

BETH.

My hand reaches out, searching blinding for her warmth. Cool sheet fills my palm.

She’s not here.

No, of course she isn’t. Why would she be?

I did exactly what I told her I was going to do last night. What I needed to do. After finishing the last cosmetic details on Ben’s deck, I came home and crashed. I needed time to process everything. She needed time too. She was obviously still reeling from the shit with her dad.

My brave girl. She looked so small sitting next to me.

My mind wouldn’t go quiet, even at Ben’s while I was focused. I figured a full night’s sleep would help, but I was restless all night.

Beth.

At 11:30 p.m., I debated driving over to her aunt’s to see her. At a little past two, I palmed my phone and stared at the picture she saved as my wallpaper. A selfie taken of her and I, our faces squeezed together.

God, I was in love with her.

I was in love, and I was terrified, but fuck, I was so lost in love I didn’t want to be apart even while I came to terms with it. I forced myself to put my phone down and close my eyes. She didn’t need me waking her up at odd hours in the night. I would let her sleep, I would hopefully get some myself.

My soul missed her, my body craved her. Sleep evaded me.

“I love you . . . I love you.”

She nearly sobbed those words. All I wanted to do was say them.

Turning my head, I watch the pale light from the window dance along the carpet. I don’t need to look at the clock to know it’s still too fucking early. My alarm hasn’t sounded yet, but I can’t lie here anymore. I can’t ignore this strange loss settling over me any longer.