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“Oh my God! Is he okay?” I ask immediately.
Easton sighs into the line. “I-I don’t know. Maybe you should come home for a little while. Can you manage that?”
My plans were always made with Dawson in mind, but that went out the window when he broke my heart seven years ago. Although I still went to the college we had planned on attending together, I did not go for the major we had talked about. I got through school even though my heart shattered a little more every day and now I work for a publishing house as an editor.
When Dawson and I were together, I had dreams of becoming a lawyer while he wanted to become a police officer, but I couldn’t bring myself to go through with it when I got to Chicago. It took me a minute and I went undecided for the first couple of years, but I realized my passion for books and reading, so I continued my education in English.
The one thing I never thought I’d have to do is go back home where he’s no doubt still walking around as if he didn’t break me all those years ago. But it seems as though that’s exactly what I have to do. I nod against the phone and take a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell Dad I love him.”
“Be safe getting here, love you, Sav.”
I head upstairs and grab the suitcase stuffed in my closet and then pack different clothes into it. Maybe I’ll get lucky and won’t see him when I get there. I’m worrying for no reason, surely. Just because it’s a small town doesn’t mean he’s the only person I’ll see around there.
I’ve spent the last seven years thinking about him while also trying to forget him, and it’s done nothing to help my dating life. Every single guy I’ve tried dating I compared to the man whobroke my heart. Their hair wasn’t curly enough, it could’ve been longer, he’s too short. It’s been pathetic.
My mind wanders to what Dawson’s life has been like since we graduated. Is he married with kids? Maybe he has a long-term girlfriend that he’s planning on proposing to. It pains me to think about it. Our life was supposed to be like that. We were supposed to get through college, marry, start a family, and grow old together. That was always the plan, but somehow he forgot all about that.
My laptop is sitting on my desk in the corner of my bedroom, so I walk over to grab it before tossing it into the suitcase, along with anything else I might need for editing purposes. I’m lucky enough to have work for a business that doesn’t require me to be in a certain place, which means I can make trips like this on a whim and still be perfectly fine with work. I’ll just send a quick email stating I have a family emergency and some due dates might need to be altered.
I hurry down the paved sidewalk toward my car once I have the front door locked and throw the suitcase into the back seat, rounding the car until I reach the driver’s side door. My breaths are coming in ragged and I grip the steering wheel, hating that I’m going back to the place I swore I’d never step foot in again, but knowing I don’t have a choice right now. My dad needs me and that’s more important than a heart that got broken seven years ago.
It takes a couple of days, but I finally see the sign welcoming me to Maple Creek, Georgia, and I take a deep breath as I pass across the town line. This isn’t how I imagined coming back and I can’t deny the nerves wracking through me about being here again. I scroll through my contacts on the touch screen and find Easton’s number, listening as the rings echo through the speakers.
“Sav, are you here?”
I sigh. “I’ve just crossed the town line. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. How is he doing?”
“He was asleep before I left the hospital, but I had to come home with Bethany.”
“Should I come by the house first or go straight to the hospital?”
“Whatever you want to do, Sav. I’m just happy you came and I’m sure Dad will appreciate it more.”
I nod, knowing this was the right decision even though my heart is breaking the further I cruise through town. Being here is bringing back all the memories from high school. The weekend mornings when Dawson and I would get a cup of our favorite coffee from Frannie’s Brew, or the days when we’d go to the park and he’d push me on the swings like a little kid. My stomach is in knots as I remember how happy we were together.
My foot presses on the gas, wanting to get away from the main strip before more memories take over, but the flash of red and blue lights forces me to ease up on the pedal.
Shit.
I wait until I’m away from the hustle and bustle of town before pulling to the side, making sure to leave room on the road for anyone else coming through. I then take a deep breath as I put the car in park. My gaze catches movement through the rear view mirror as the officer gets out of his vehicle and I eye his muscles as he walks toward me.
When he reaches my window and I turn my head to face him, my eyes connect with his stomach before slowly traveling to his face. I’m struck speechless at the sight of him, but it doesn’t take long for anger to take over. He blinks at me a few times, probably thinking I’m a mirage or something, then he shakes his head.
“Do you know why I pulled you over, ma’am?”
Oh, is that how we are going to play this? “Speeding,” I retort sharply.
He clears his throat. “Could I have your license, insurance, and registration?”
Our fingers brush against each other when I hand them over, making me flinch away from the electricity his touch brings. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other, my body still reacts the way it used to when we werekids. While he moves away from the car and heads toward his, I shake my head and mumble a few encouraging words to myself.
I refuse to let him get to me after all these years.
It takes another five minutes before he’s walking back, holding out his hand with all my information tucked between his fingers. It’s not fair that age has done nothing but make him look better. Was it not possible for God to make him suffer even a little? Maybe a crooked nose or a large scar on his cheek?
Of course not. He had to grow into this beautiful man that I can’t help ogling as he stays by the window. I shove the papers back into the glove box and then look straight ahead at the deserted road. “Can we hurry up with a ticket, please?”
He nods, scribbling notes down on a large sheet of paper before handing it over to me. My heart beats wildly as he continues standing there, not making a move to head back to his car, and I glare at him. “Can I go now?”
