I sit on the rock looking out at the river. Sunlight reflects off the shiny surface, blinding me. My eyes water from the harsh light, my legs ache from sitting still, and my head pounds. Yet I don’t move. I stay here, hot, hungry, and uncomfortable with no plan to move.

I deserve this punishment and more. I fucked up. I didn’t just lose Sierra, I hurt her even more than she’s already hurting. My whole life has been filled with moments I’m not proud of, but I’ve never regretted anything like I do right now.

I want to make things right.

Blinking, I look away from the water and down at my phone. Sierra won’t answer my calls, not that I really expected her to, and hasn’t texted me back. I call her, and her phone rings once before she declines my call. My heart lurches at the sound of her voice, telling me to leave a message and she’ll call me back as soon as she can.

“Sierra,” I start. “It’s been over a day since I’ve seen you, and it already feels like a lifetime. I miss you. I’m sorry.” I close my eyes, imagining she’s in front of me.

“I got the scar on my back when I broke into a lake house in Utah to take a portrait that was supposed to go to the wife in the divorce. Her ex-husband wasn’t supposed to be there. I felt sorry for him. His wife married him for his money, cheated, and took him to the cleaners at court. He was no match for a fight, so I let him take one swing at me unguarded but didn’t see the broken piece of glass in his hand. He apologized after he cut me. I still feel bad for taking that painting to his ex.”

I hang up and stand, legs asleep from sitting so long. I shake out the pinprick sensation and go into the bar. It’s a typical slow Monday night. Josh is working and doesn’t need the extra help tonight. It takes a while to convince him to go home to his wife and kids. He feels bad since today was my day off, and only agrees once I tell him Sierra is busy tonight and we’re not seeing each other anyway.

I don’t approve of drinking on the job, but fuck it. The bar is slow and I fucking need it. I pour whiskey into a glass and down it. I haven’t eaten all day. My appetite has been gone since yesterday afternoon when Sierra told me to leave.

I add ice to my glass and more whiskey. I try to sip it slowly but pour it down my throat instead. I need to numb the pain. In no time at all my mind swirls and I lean on the bar, rubbing my forehead.

I can’t stay here without Sierra in my life. This town is too small. We’d run into each other and seeing her without being able to be with her would be worse than putting food just out of a starving man’s reach.

I’ll be reminded of Sierra no matter where I go in this Godforsaken place, making everyday hell on earth. Will seeing me do the same to her?

I bring the bottle of whiskey upstairs with me after I close the bar for the night. I drink enough to pass out, but not enough to keep the nightmares away. I wake at dawn fighting off the image of Sierra’s body floating in the river, lifeless eyes staring up at me. Her belly was large and swollen, and a baby cries from deep inside the forest. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get through the water to find the child.

Our child.

I don’t attempt to go back to sleep until I chugged enough whiskey to kill a whale. I wake up in the afternoon feeling like complete shit. The first thing I do is check my phone in case Sierra called.

She didn’t.

I stumble to the kitchen and get a drink. Then I shower and force myself to eat. I get a text on my other phone. It’s from Jax, and I forgot that I was still fucking pissed at him for the shit that went down Friday night. It seems like nothing now.

Jax: I know you said you were done, but I heard of a job in Jackson. 75k if you get it done in 24 hours

I look at the screen, reading his words over and over again. Not because I’m not getting the message, but because I need to occupy my brain. I shouldn’t take a job. I’m not even supposed to be working in the bar yet.

But I don’t care anymore.

The only thing I care about is Sierra. I drop the phone and march out the door. Giving up isn’t something I’ve ever done. I fight and I fight until I get what I want. Sierra isn’t mine for the taking, but I’m not going to walk away.

I love her, and I know she loves me. I’m going to fix this.

I park in front of The Book Bag and go inside. The familiar dinging of the bell rings out when I step inside. The smell of books takes me back to the first time I walked inside and saw Sierra sitting behind the counter.

“Hi,” someone calls from inside the store. It’s not Sierra. “Can I help—” She cuts off when she sees me, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s afraid of me like the rest of the town or if Sierra told her we broke up.

“She’s on her lunch break,” she says. “She just left but shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“Oh, okay.” So she’s afraid of me. Sierra hasn’t told her coworker yet. “I guess I’ll go.”

“I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise,” I lie and turn to go. Then I notice the red and white sign in the window. “The store’s for sale?”

“Technically, just the building. I suppose if the new owner wanted to keep running it as the store, they could.”

Sierra has to be devastated. She loves this place and what it has to offer the people of Summer Hill. I don’t want this taken away from her, and I wish I could convince her to ask her parents for the cash to buy it and make it hers. She’d never do that, and I respect the hell out of her for not falling back and relying on her rich parents.

“What’s the asking price?”

“A hundred grand, but between you and me, Mrs. Williams said she’s hoping for seventy-five thousand. It’s just enough to retire and have money left open to give to her son.”

Seventy-five grand.

If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.