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I dug it out, cringing when I noticed Jacob’s name on the screen.
As I had for the past two weeks, I ignored it.
Jacob had been my boyfriend for the past three years. Everything was good until he proposed. It wasn’t his fault. He’d done everything right. He took me out to a fancy restaurant and bought me a giant ring with his savings. It was the lack of excitement inside of me that screamed, ‘Don’t do it.’
Going with my gut was my thing.
My father had taught me that at a young age, and I’d carried it with me throughout life. Marriage was forever, or at least I wanted mine to be, so agreeing to marry someone should make you happy. Not content.
I wasn’t marrying Jacob Henderson because I didn't lean against the door after a date and wish I would have invited him inside. The foot-popping kiss never happened. The butterflies in my stomach stopped at date two.
He was safe.
He was a good choice.
He just wasn’t my choice.
I slid my phone back into my pocket, giving my one-bedroom apartment one more look before shutting the door for the last time. There would be no more almost tripping down the wobbly steps on my rush to class. Or stubbing my toe on the loose wood in my bathroom. This was it. I was finished with this chapter in my life.
My drive home to Mandeville was only an hour's drive. Having my parents close by made me feel less afraid to make big leaps over the years. They’d supported me when I needed it. Helped me with my rent when I couldn’t afford groceries and bills.
It'd been a blessing in disguise that I hadn’t received acceptance letters out of state. It was all in God's plan. Southern Louisiana was my home. I loved the atmosphere and the close-knit communities.
Sliding into the driver’s seat of my Kia Sportage, my high school graduation present from my parents, I turned the A/C on immediately.
Sweat gathered at my hairline, making my ebony-colored hair stick to my forehead. My cell phone rang again, vibrating against the cup holder where I’d tossed it.
This time my father’s name appeared on the screen.
I sighed in relief.
“Hello?”
“Josie,” he said, his southern accent deeper in his excitement. Neither of my parents had stopped talking about me moving home for the summer. It was only two months, but they were excited nonetheless.
“Dad! I’m on my way now. I just left my apartment.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” he said. “Have you heard anything from ... Jacob?”
I inwardly cringed. Normally I wouldn’t be the kind of girl to tell her father something so personal. However, it’d gone viral. The proposal and no acceptance. Rolling my eyes at Jacob’s audacity, I tightened my fingers around my steering wheel.
I was sure it'd been hard for him to show his face, but it'd been embarrassing for me too. People whispered about me for the last two weeks of class. Calling me names that I wouldn't repeat. I was the bad guy for not wanting to commit to someone.
He’d gone all out. Done everything right. I just wished it would have been a private interaction, not in front of the entire restaurant when everyone had cell phones and social media. It was a disaster waiting to happen. Obviously, he thought I would say yes.
“He’s been calling non stop,” I said. “I told him I need time to myself, but he isn’t getting it.”
Dad cleared his throat. I felt a lecture coming, but to my surprise, he didn’t give me one. “You’re doing the right thing. Always … go with your gut,” we said together.
“I need to focus on the road. I’ll see you in an hour or so. Do you need me to pick up anything on the way home?”
“And prolong your arrival? Never. Love you, Dew Drop.”
“Love you.”
I drove home listening to 2000s pop music, drumming my fingers over the steering wheel, and avoiding the realization that I would start my new job in the city in exactly two months.
The fear of being a grown-up swallowed me whole most days.
