WE DON’T EXCHANGE A word as Peck drives me home. I want to ask if he went there on purpose, but I’m pretty certain I know the answer and I can’t blame him. If I were in his position, I’d have tried it too.
The truck slides into the driveway of my little rental and he jams it in park. “Don’t be mad at me,” he says.
“I’m not.”
“Nah, you are. I have broad shoulders. I can take it.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I sigh. “I don’t even know what I am, to be honest.”
“You’ll figure it out.” He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sticking around?”
I lift my shoulders and let them fall, not sure what to do when all I really want to do is climb under the covers and sleep for ten years.
He nods. “Well, you’ll do what’s best for you. You’re a smart girl.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t always feel awesome and I know I am.”
A chuckle escapes my lips, even though I don’t expect it. I grab the door handle and then stop. “Peck?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He sends me his lopsided grin. “For what?”
Sitting quietly, my hand still wrapped around the door handle, I try to focus on this one thing. I think back to all the nice things he’s done for me since I’ve known him. All the times he hasn’t just sided with Walker because they’re family, but almost treated me like family too.
My gaze softens, my shoulders sag. “I hope Molly McCarter realizes how special you are sooner rather than later.”
“Me too,” he sighs with a smile.
“You’re gold, you know that?”
“I do. But thank you for noticing,” he winks. “Go on and get out of my truck before this gets all sappy and I have to report back to Walker a bunch of shit that he’ll tease me for. Okay?”
“Sure.” With a heavy heart, I shove open the door. Before I shut it, I peer inside the cab one final time. “Thanks for the ride.”
“If you need anything, you know who to call. Just remember—if you’re in Georgia, I’ll need lead time.”
With a laugh and a tear sliding down my cheek, I swing the door closed and head up to the door. In typical Peck style, he doesn’t leave until I’m in the house.
As I hear the engine take off down the street, my back slides down the wall and I drop onto the floor. I don’t know where my sobs sound harder—in the empty house or in my desolate soul.
THE FOG ON THE mirror fades as the cool air from the house rushes into the bathroom. It tickles my skin, still sensitive from standing under the shower for what felt like a lifetime but wasn’t quite long enough.
Camilla and I always say that a hot shower can cure just about anything. It can’t cure a broken heart.
Heading into my bedroom, stepping over the sheets I ripped from my bed before putting on new, non-Walker-scented ones, I climb up on the mattress and curl up into a ball.
I didn’t die. My heart got trampled, my trust broken, my ego bruised, but I didn’t die. I thought I might. I also thought I might just pick up the phone today once Peck dropped me off and call Walker and talk to him. I didn’t do that either.
My eyes drift closed and I concentrate on my breathing, listening to the air smoothly enter and leave my body. As I lie in bed, in a semi-awake, semi-sleep sort of twilight state, there’s a sense of peace that covers me.
I’ve taken everything the last few days have thrown at me. I got bumped around and hurt but I didn’t break. I fell in love, but I didn’t lose me. I didn’t give in, I didn’t roll over, I didn’t sacrifice anything about myself to stay in a relationship.
I wasn’t my mother.
Thinking of her sweet face and warm hugs makes my chest hurt. Pulling my legs tighter to my chest, I imagine being at the Farm, surrounded by my family, and although it doesn’t seem like it’ll fix things, it’s a better solution than lying here alone.
Decision made, I find my phone buried in the blankets on the floor and scroll until I find Graham’s name. I hit the green button.
“Hey,” he says immediately. “How are you?”
“I’m coming home,” I tell him, ignoring his question. “Is the job still open?”
“Of course . . .” A paper crinkles in the background. “You okay?”
“No, but I’m going to survive.”
“That’s good news. Mom will be happy.”
I look around the room and spot a packet of gum Walker left lying next to the television. The stupid little package makes my heart burn in my chest and I know if this can make me feel so sad, what will driving by Crank do? Or Peck? Or if I run into Walker at the gas station?
“Think I can stay at the Farm for a while?” I ask. “I’m going to try to grab a flight in the morning.”
“I’ll have someone go over and make sure it’s ready for you. You coming back for good then?”
“I think so, G.”
He waits a long minute before responding. “You know I want you here. I feel better when we’re all in one place.”
“Yeah.”
“But I want you to take a breather. Don’t make any decisions until you’re more steady on your feet, okay?”
“The way I feel . . .” My voice cracks before drifting off. I pace a circle, trying to rein in the lump at the bottom of my throat. “The way I feel, it might take a while to be steady on my feet. I can’t wait that long to move on.”
“You know I’m behind you one hundred percent. But can I give you some advice?”
“That’s what I call you for, isn’t it?” I laugh, sniffling.
“Don’t bring him here. Lincoln got Ford all wound up and you know how that ends.”
“Oh great.”
Graham laughs. “Okay. I’ll have my secretary secure you a plane ticket for morning. The Farm will be waiting.”
“Thanks, G. Love you.”
“Love you too. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”