My chest burns.
I focus on my breathing. On the cadence of my steps. But it doesn’t matter how fast I run or how much distance I cover because her goddamn letter is on repeat in my mind.
Just like it was last night. And the night before that. And on and on.
Fuck.
She’ll be back in a week, my ass.
The Kraft house is empty. All her stuff is gone. The vase where she kept the dead flowers she didn’t realize I’d noticed has been emptied. The hose she’d always leave stretched across the drive is rolled up on its hook. The blinds on the house are pulled closed.
She’s gone for good.
And I’m running. I run. Because I’m being a dick to everyone around me, taking this out on Luke with a short temper when it’s no one’s fault but my own. When I’m the only one who can fix this. But I can’t until I make sure my head’s as straight as it can be.
I run until I can’t run anymore. Until the lactic acid makes my muscles seize and my lungs can’t catch air fast enough. It’s only then that I collapse on the side of the track of Sunnyville High School and just lie there with my arm hooked over my eyes and my body exhausted in every way possible.
“I haven’t seen you run in years.” I should have known he’d find me here. I should have known he’d be the one to notice. “Not since before . . .”
Not since Claire left me, he means.
“Leave it, Dad,” I huff, but I don’t uncover my eyes, even though I know he’s leaning over me, blocking the sun for me.
“Nah. Not this time. I’ve left it for too damn long.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Yeah, well, neither am I. I’m not in the mood to watch my son suffer any more than he’s already suffered when the answer’s right in front of his damn nose.”
“Christ.”
“You’re going to need a lot more than Christ, son, if you don’t straighten up and listen when I tell you you’re being a total dumbass for letting that woman walk out without a fight.”
“It’s none of your business, Dad.”
“Like hell it isn’t. You’re my business. Luke’s my business.”
“She left. Can’t fight for someone who didn’t stay.”
He mutters something under his breath, and I’m pretty sure he was calling me something. “Of course she left. I didn’t see you fighting for her. Did you ask her to stay?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.” I move my arm just enough that I can peek up at him. He’s standing over me, hands on his hips, and that look that says, “I’m the chief of police, you’ll do as I say,” written all over him.
“That’s a bullshit excuse. Most of the time, life is complicated. Life is putting yourself on the line and taking your chances.”
I snort. “Been there. Done that. Been burned.”
“That was eight years ago. Don’t you think you’ve changed? Matured? Grown into a better man? Don’t you think you deserve a second shot at happiness? I think you do.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Look, it’s honorable that you try to be all Luke needs, but someday, he’s going to grow up, move out, have a life of his own . . . then where will you be? Alone.”
“Dad . . .”
“Stop wasting your chances. We’re all afraid of things. Hell, after all these years, I’m still afraid of your mom’s cooking some nights,” he says and smiles. “I still brave it because she’s worth the risk.”
Worth the risk. There’s that damn phrase again.
“That was supposed to make you smile, Grayson.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad, but I’m just trying to figure things out.”
“You’ve already figured them out. Now you need to act on them.”
“Easier said than done.”
He holds a hand out to me. We hook thumbs, and he helps pull me up.
“Remember this—someone who really loves you sees what a mess you are and understands that you can be a moody son of a bitch but wants you anyway.”
“What’s your point?”
“I believe Sidney saw all that in you and still wants you. She just isn’t sure how to fight for someone when they refuse to see the same in themselves.”
Christ.
“It isn’t that easy.”
“A long time ago, someone once told me to find what I love and let it kill me.” He lowers his head for a moment before looking back up and meeting my eyes. “It’s okay if Sidney ruins you, Gray. Don’t be afraid of it, because she may also be the one to help bring you back to life. She may just be the air you need to breathe, the one you can’t live without.”
My dad holds my gaze and nods ever so slightly before he turns and walks back to wherever he came from.
I run a hand through my hair and know he’s right. About all of it. I’ve felt like shit the past few days. It’s more than just my missing her. It’s knowing I want her and somehow let her slip through my fingers.
It’s knowing she is the one risk I want to take, consequences be damned.
It’s knowing I was too damn scared to ask her to stay . . . and now that she’s gone, the answers are all clear as fucking day.