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“They’re not broken in yet, though,” I said. “And they won’t match.”
They were flashy race car red, and though I loved them, they wouldn’t go with my current ensemble.
“Hmm,” Folsom said. “Show me the shirt you’re wearing.”
I aimed my phone at the shirt I was thinking about wearing, a plain racerback tank, and said, “This one.”
“Do you walk into the doors of the gym and take your shirt off?” she asked curiously. “I hear that’s what they do at gyms like that.”
I didn’t, but others did.
I snorted. “It’s possible I might take it off at some point. But only if I’m really, really hot. I’m not confident enough in my body to ever do that.”
My dad had done a lot of damage to us when we were younger.
It didn’t matter how in shape I was. I was always fat.
Maybe one day I would get over that particular problem, but it wasn’t looking good for any time in the near future.
I got up and looked out the window.
“What’s going on?” I asked carefully. “Why did he just leave?”
Folsom paused. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure, what?”
“Are you sure that you want to know?” she answered.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty freakin’ tired of everyone deciding what I can and can’t handle. Yes, I want to know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you.”
“Well, let’s start off with the news, then,” she said. “This morning, news broke that a baby was dropped off on NASCAR superstar driver Nash Christopherson’s doorstep.”
“He actually told me that. I don’t think that’s the problem,” I grumbled. “I’m surprised that it leaked, though. It was all very hush-hush.”
“It was, yes. But Saranda had second thoughts and tried to get the baby back. They wouldn’t let her because she abandoned the baby, which is illegal.”
I sighed at her words. “Did you find anything on whether the baby is…”
“The baby isn’t his.” She guessed where I was going with my question.
Well, that made sense.
“What else?” I asked, dread starting to fill my stomach.
“How do you know that there’s more?” she asked.
I could feel it deep in the pit of my belly.
I knew there was something wrong the moment he’d walked in the door.
But a kid showing up on his doorstep wouldn’t cause him to look utterly broken. Or scared.
“He’s sick,” she said.
“I know he’s sick,” I said.
“He’s really sick. Way sicker than they first thought,” she said. “The cancer has spread to his lungs.”
My stomach sank.
That was it.
That was why he left.
He thought he was dying, and in a desperate attempt to push me away, he’d started to make problems where there weren’t any to be had.
“God dammit.”
I picked up my phone and started to call him.
Over and over again.
But since I was stubborn, I didn’t ask Folsom for help.
Contrary to what Kobe believed, I wanted Folsom to have vacations and enjoy life.
I would be solving this one on my own.
And I would find a way to make that man answer the damn phone.
He had to answer the phone, too. Because he’d left our apartment complex three weeks ago and hadn’t come back since.
I would know. I had stalked him on Life 360 every single night, hoping he would come back.
CHAPTER 18
Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.
-Nash to Tyson
NASH
I unblocked her number, and all the messages and calls started rolling in.
With my head on the pillow, and my lungs on fire—having pieces of your lungs removed from your body was significantly harder than it sounded—I started to go through them.
Since I’d last checked yesterday, there were seventeen missed calls. At least one an hour while she was awake. There were also forty-two text messages.
I skimmed through them, my mouth turning up at the corner at each subsequent message.
There were a few better ones, and I went back and reread them.
Zip: One day, you’re going to look back at this, and realize you’re dumb as fuck for letting me go.
Zip: When you do realize it, know that you threw our life away because you thought I wouldn’t be able to handle your cancer diagnosis.
Zip: Yes, I know about your cancer, you stupid fool. Did the chemo treatment steal some brain cells along with it?
Zip:
Zip: I hope you enjoyed that photo of my middle finger. You deserve it.
Zip: Also, I hope you know that I’ve started to let myself into your apartment. I started eating your food because I don’t want it to go bad.
Zip: Also, why do you have a meal delivery program? And why would you not cancel it?
Zip: The chicken bacon ranch one was by far my favorite.
Zip:
I nearly laughed but stopped myself. That would only cause a coughing fit.
The photo of her aggressively eating my food was saved to my camera roll, then put as my screen saver.
Did she not think I was having food delivered to my place because she didn’t go out and eat?
