A leather overnight bag sits on the bed, with Baggie lying inside. Clothes are strewn all over my floor, and I am still tossing more out of the closet. I finally walk out of the closet with a pair of jeans and a cream sweater under my arm. I drop my clothes on the bed next to the bag and gently pick Baggie up out of it. I hold him for a minute or so, rubbing my cheek on his head.

“Sorry baby boy, but you're not coming. I'll only be gone for a day. That is, if Wes even lets me in the house.”

Baggie jumps out of my arms and lays down in a clear area on the bed. Picking up my clothes, I place them in the now empty bag before turning to my drawers.

I pull one drawer open and stare at the lack of material in it. “I really need to go shopping.”

Nessa’s going to love that.

Grabbing some undergarments, pajamas, and two t-shirts, I quickly finish packing. Clutching the handles of the bag, I walk out of the bedroom with Baggie on my heels.

Tossing the bag on the table, I search for a pen and paper. When I find one, I take a seat on the couch and write out Baggie’s feeding instructions for Trey. Baggie jumps up on the couch next to me as I finish, and I pet his head before leaning down to kiss him.

Fuck! I forgot to ask Trey last night to feed Baggie. I rub my temples, trying to release the stress building. I pull my phone from my back pocket and text him.

Me: Can I talk you into feeding Baggie in the morning? I’m going to go find Wes.

Trey: You sure that’s a good idea? He asked for space.

Me: Fuck that! He’s not allowed to be a pussy now.

Trey: lol. Oh I hope you tell him that. Granted, he’ll spank your ass for it.

Me: We’ll see.

Trey: Did you figure out where he went?

Me: In a roundabout way, yes. I texted with Rex, but the fucker wouldn’t come out and say anything. He did tell me I could wake up Garret, and he might be able to help me find him.

Trey: So Wes told Rex not to talk, but Rex sent you to someone that would tell you?

Me: Exactly. Sometimes he’s not so bad. :)

Trey: lol. Sometimes. Leave me directions, and I’ll get over there. I may come spend the afternoon with Baggie. You have the better view if I want to sit out on a balcony and read before I have to go in. Both of you assholes owe me since we’ll be two chefs down tonight.

Me: I know. I swear, I’ll be back tomorrow. With or without him.

Trey: I know. Be safe! And call if you need anything.

Me: Will do. Thanks, Trey.

Dropping my phone on the couch, I pick Baggie up and put him in my lap, petting him a few more times before I stand to leave. A knock at the door startles me, and I push Baggie off my lap and head for the door. To my surprise, Teagan stands on my stoop.

“Hey there,” she greets. “I was asked to stop by and give you this.” She holds up a piece of paper between two fingers.

“Want to come in?” I offer, stepping back slightly.

“Nah, I need to make sure my brother doesn’t burn lunch,” she laughs and walks off.

“Thanks,” I call out and wave the paper. She shoos me off.

My fingers drum on the steering wheel and gear shift as I drive out of Austin toward the lake house. Music filters from the speakers, and I sing along.

Two hours pass, and I pull into a closed gas station.

“Crap. I think I made a wrong turn.” I rest my head against the steering wheel, really wanting to bang it a few times.

I grab my phone out of its cradle and dial Trey.

“Hello, Darlin’. Did he send you back?” Trey answers in greeting.

“I haven't gotten there yet,” I huff.

There’s silence for a minute or so.

“Doesn't the Jeep have a GPS?” Trey responds with a laugh and a question.

“Fuck no. I’ve had this thing since high school. Besides, this baby was Ben’s before she was mine, and before that, she was dad’s.” I rub the dashboard lovingly.

“Shit. It’s an antique.” He laughs again. “Tell Ben he needs to get you a new car.”

“Screw that. He pays for the loft.” My heart speeds up just thinking about why.

“I know, Darlin’. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s okay. I just miss them, you know.” I wipe away the single tear that slides down my cheek. “I’ll use my phone. I thought I could remember how to get there.”

“Really? Your memory’s good, but not that good!” Another chuckle.

“Ass. I’m going now. Bye.”

More laughter comes over the line as I hang up, flipping him off in the process. I pull up my maps app and enter the address of Wes's family's lake house. It takes a few minutes for the GPS to register, but when the directions are processed and spewing turns, I start driving.

As the GPS has me drive an hour back in the direction I’d come from, butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach.

What the hell am I going to say to get Wes to listen and come back?

One phase repeats in my head.

“I love you.”

I bring the Jeep to a complete stop on the gravel driveway, open my door, and slide out. Before stepping away to close the door, I reach back across the seat and grab my phone out of its cradle. Sticking the damn thing in my back pocket, I close the door and head toward the porch. It takes fifteen steps to make it to the front door once I’m around the Jeep. I focus on the steps instead of the nerves twisting me in knots. I ring the bell then knock twice, my impatience getting the best of me. The bell makes a loud bellowing sound that I swear can wake the dead. Stepping back, I rock back and forth on my feet, waiting for someone to answer .

It feels like twenty minutes pass, but when I glance down at my watch, I see it's only been three minutes. Shuffling off the porch, I head over to the paving stones that lead to the back of the property and down to the lake. Voices filter up from that direction as I make my way around the big house. In the distance, I spot a group out on the lake. Slowly, I make my way toward them then stop at a big tree halfway between the house and the dock. From this spot, I can just make out everyone’s faces.

Wes is surrounded by four blondes. My hand moves reflexively to brace myself against the tree while a wave of heartache crashes over me. Not making any fast movements, since I don’t want to be seen, I slowly pull my cell from my back pocket and hit speed dial for Wes's number. I watch him pull his phone out of his pocket, glance at the screen, and return it to his pocket.

“This is Wes. You know what to do,” his voice says, right before the greeting ends with a long beep.

I press end and clamp my mouth closed so a scream doesn’t escape. Tears form in my eyes, and at the rate my emotions are cartwheeling, you’d think it was that time of the month. I glance back down at my phone and hastily dial without thinking, backing away from the tree and staying out of sight. The phone rings twice before Adam picks up.

“Adam, I need to talk,” I whisper into the phone.

“Why are you whispering?” he asks, and I can hear other voices nearby.

“Because Wes is here with four women, and he’s screening his calls from me.” I grit my teeth and almost growl at him.

“Wait, what? Wes is at the lake house with four women? Uhhh… hold that thought.” I hear movement then, “I put you on speaker. Trey and I are in the office now.”

“Can we never talk about this again? I’m heading back to the Jeep and coming home. I may need a day away from Belladonna after this.”

“Stay there!” they both yell into the phone.

I roll my eyes but keep walking.

“How do you know he’s with four chicks?”

“They’re all down at the lake. I stopped at one of the big trees in the yard. Far enough back not to be seen but close enough that you can see the water.”

“Why aren't you talking to Calla?” I hear Trey question. Then he pauses.

“That’s stupid, and you know it. Your fucking hot-head didn’t want to stop and think... or listen. You just blew up. That’s not on her, it's all on you,” Trey asserts.

“I really don’t want to listen to his conversation. I don’t think it will go well for me,” I tell Adam.

“Shhh. Wes needs to hear this, and both of you need to have a swift kick in the ass,” Adam responds.

I’ve missed whatever Trey has said to Wes when Adam shushed me.

“She's at the lake now!” I hear Trey announce, and I pick up my pace.

Now I really want to get in my car and just drive. I can’t believe he just fucking said that! Why couldn’t they just let me get the frustration out and leave?

“So, Wes is most likely heading your way,” Trey announces, and there’s an edge of something coating his voice. I just can’t place what it is, exactly.

“I’m not waiting on the patio. I want to fucking get in the Jeep and head home. Why wouldn’t you just let me vent?” I half growl, half whine at them.

“Because none of us need another night like last night,” Adam replies.

“And, Darlin’, you two need to work your shit out,” Trey adds.

“Fuckers.”

Listening to Adam and Trey discuss what the menu should be tonight, I make it back to the Jeep and hop in.

“Guys, I’m going to let you go handle dinner. I’ll text later.” I disconnect and lean my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes to wait.

A couple of minutes later, a loud bang on the vehicle has my eyes popping open. Wes is standing next to the hood with his palm on top. He gestures toward the house and stalks off. His expression is livid. Within seconds, he's on the steps of the porch as I’m just getting out of the Jeep. When he reaches the front door, he glares back at me, and I pick up my pace. Neither of us speak. Wes opens the door and steps back, letting me go in first. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse his hand twitching when I pass him. After he closes the door behind us, he takes the lead and walks to the back of the house, still not saying a word.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Wes walks around the long granite island to the stainless-steel refrigerator and pulls out a beer. He pops the top and leans against the counter, staring out the windows.

“Wes, I'm sorry. I-” I pull out one of the tall wooden bar stools and slide onto it, facing him.

“You what… didn't get enough last night?” he cuts me off, shaking his head and stepping away to lean against the opposite one.

I rest my elbows on the counter and drop my head into my hands. I try to formulate words, but Wes just won’t have it.

“I don't care, Calla. I'm so pissed… You're lucky I don't hit girls,” he fumes.

“You want to hit me?” I glance up to stare at him.

“I've thought about it. But I’m not a sadist,” he responds, taking a sip of his beer.

“Wes, can we please not fight? I didn't come-” Tears form in the back of my eyes, and I try to blink them away.

“Why did you come?” he demands in a voice that I can’t resist.

“If you’d fucking let me finish a sentence, I’d tell you. But now... seeing this,” I gesture to him then outside, “I don’t think I should.”

“That's just great. Damn it, Calla! This isn’t a game. GO HOME! You have a restaurant to run.” Wes lifts off the counter, turning his back on me.

“Are you not coming back? I thought you just needed the weekend to cool off? Was that a lie?” I study him knowing all his tells. At least, I thought I knew them.

I wipe away the tears that are now rolling down my cheeks, slide off the chair, and wrap my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together.

“I'm not the one that lies. You're the one that does that. Especially to yourself!” Wes turns back to face me, taking a swig of his beer.

“I love you. You're right. I have been lying, but you’ve been with Zoe.”

“It's too late for that. I can guess what you did last night. It’s written all over your face.”

“Wes.” My brows furrow. I’m not understanding what the hell he’s talking about.

“You went to him after we... Hell! You slept with him last night, didn’t you?” Wes spews out nonsense.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone last night! And no, I didn’t go to Caleb for anything like that after we had sex. Do you really think I’m a whore?” I shake my head. “I’m not fucking Caleb!” I toss up my hands.

“Right. Then why did he show up last night?” he growls and throws his beer in the trash.

“How the hell should I know? I never got the chance to ask him. Wes... I love you.” I soften my voice on the last words.

“Calla, like you said before, it won't work. We're done. I'll be at work Monday, and I'll stay until you find someone to replace me.”

I gasp. “So that's it?! You're just going to leave everything?” I blink, dumbfounded by him.

“Yes.”

Silence fills the room for an uncomfortable length of time.

I won’t make it back to the city in this state.

“Can….” My voice falters, so I try again. “Can I use the shower before I head back? I feel grimy and disgusting after the drive. It will only take 20 minutes then I'll be out of your hair.” I turn away from him, not able to look at his back.

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” I head toward the closest spare bedroom, catching a few “fucks” and “damns” from Wes.

When I get into the spare room and its attached bathroom, I pull out my cell phone and speed dial Trey. He answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Darlin’, I can’t talk long. Working on a new dish,” he explains, dishes banging in the background.

“Trey… I'll be in tomorrow….” my voice cracks as I try to speak clearly.

“What happened? You sound upset,” he observes.

I sit on the edge of the tub and try to put the last twenty minutes into words without breaking down.

“I can't believe it. Wes quit!” I start bawling, and no air is getting into my lungs.

Trey is completely silent, and I check to make sure the call is still connected. It is.

“I'll call you on my way home,” I say, and just before I end the call, Trey finally speaks.

“Be careful, Calla,” he whispers, and we hang up.

Reaching for the shower knob, I turn on the water before standing and shuffling back into the bedroom. I toss my phone on the bed and undress, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor before walking back into the bathroom. I step into the shower and let the water beat down on my tense muscles, releasing only some of the stress. Thirty minutes pass while I stand there gathering my remaining mental state so I can face Wes again.

When I’m finally out and dried off, I step out of the bathroom and find my bag lying on the bed. The clothes I had been wearing are neatly folded next to it. I quickly put my faded, tattered blue jeans back on and pull out my form-fitting cream long-sleeved sweater. Refreshed and somewhat shielded, I open the bedroom door, bag in hand, and head into the kitchen to say goodbye.

As I pass through the living room, I find Wes sitting on a leather sofa. He's just getting off the phone when I step into his line of sight.

“Thanks for the shower. I'm going to head back now.” I start to turn.

“Calla, I… uh don't want you driving home this late. Stay here tonight. Please?” He runs his hand through his hair.

I shake my head no, because there’s no way I can keep my composure all night. “Trey or Adam?” I gesture to his phone.

“Both. And they’re right. Please listen... just this one time.” He sits forward and rests his forearms on his thighs.

“Wes, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not now. If I stay, I won’t be able to hold it together, and I’ll want to call Ben. It’s going to be hard enough explaining you leaving. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he mutters, pulling at his hair. “I didn’t think about our families,” he trails off, and I take that as my cue to leave.

I all but run out of the lake house. All the while, my heart is hoping Wes will chase after me. He doesn’t. I fumble with the handle before getting the Jeep door open and toss my bag in. I plug my phone into the charger and fire up the GPS app. I really don’t need to get lost again. Then I text Trey.

Me: I’m heading home. I can’t stay.

Trey: Drive carefully and text me when you get home.

About halfway home, I stop at an all-night diner. Between my grumbling stomach and the tears that just won’t stop, I have to pull off the road. I wipe my eyes for the millionth time and check myself in the mirror. My face is swollen and red, and there’s no way I can change it, so I decide not to go in. I rest my head on the steering wheel instead.

Pull it together, or you'll never get back. You can’t let the heartache Wes just caused be worse than what Torrence did. Buck up and get your ass home.

The phone ringing interrupts my pep talk. I glance at its cradle and watch it vibrate. I look out the window at the road in front of me and shift into gear, letting the phone ring. Cautiously, I pull back onto the paved road and drive home. Wes, Adam, and Trey take turns calling, but I don’t answer.

I can’t.