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Her heart was already breaking and she hadn’t said goodbye yet.
Yes, she wouldn’t be far. Yes, she could stop back to visit when she had time. But she would take as much overtime as her new employer offered to get her finances back on track.
She’d need first and last month’s rent, a security deposit, to make her next car payment, to buy groceries. Not to mention, get her things from storage and have them shipped from Ohio.
Even so, it was a new beginning. A fresh start. Which was what she’d been looking for.
Then why wasn’t she feeling more excited about it?
Damn it.
Cage slouched in one of the Adirondack chairs with his boots planted wide and his knees cocked. He stared at nothing in particular. He was lost inside his head more than anything.
He finished a hand-rolled, ground out the butt on the wide plastic arm of the chair and grabbed the beer by his foot, downing what remained in the bottle.
One bottle wasn’t going to be enough.
A six-pack wasn’t going to be enough.
A goddamn case might be enough to dull the unbearable tightness in his chest.
Jemma came home from her interview hours later than he expected and when he asked how it went, she shook her head and told him they’d discuss it after dinner, once Dyna was down for the night.
During that time she kept Dyna close, constantly picking her up and hugging her, getting down on the floor during the baby’s tummy time and entertaining his daughter every moment she was awake.
While Cage watched his two girls, his chest was cracking open and dread was rushing in to drown him.
From the other arm of the chair, he picked up the glass pipe with an already packed bowl and, lifting it to his lips, lit it. He pulled the hit deep within his lungs and held it as the trailer door opened.
He blew the smoke upward as he waited for it to close.
For fuck’s sake, Jemma was about to shut the door all right.
On being Dyna’s mother.
On being with him.
She was going to leave them both.
He closed his eyes and tried to push away the sour memory of the day Bebe left. Watching his mother pack, then running outside to see she was gone without even saying goodbye.
Jemma would say goodbye.
But what good was a fucking goodbye for him or Dyna? It wouldn’t ease the loss. Or the disappointment.
He turned his head to watch her slowly take the three steps down to the trampled-to-death grass, two beers in hand. She offered him one in passing and settled with a sigh next to him in the other plastic chair.
He stared at her as she picked at the corner of the bottle’s label with her fingernail, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
He reached over and cracked the top off for her, then opened his own, letting the brew slide down his throat to cool the burn in his gut. He took another long swig and put it down before taking another hit of the pot in his pursuit to become numb.
Totally pain free.
When he was done, he held the pipe out to her.
She shook her head and took a sip of beer instead. “I might get drug tested on Monday. I can’t risk it.”
Don’t fuckin’ ask.
He did anyway. “What’s Monday?” He knew. He fucking knew.
He wanted to rage at her, to scream that it wasn’t fair. She couldn’t leave them. Not now.
Not ever.
Instead, his hand shook as he lifted the bowl again and took another long hit, waiting for her answer.
The answer he didn’t want to hear.
“The interview went extremely well. I start my new job on Monday. They’re short-handed, so they want me to start right away.”
“In Williamsport,” he forced out.
“That’s where the regional offices are located. But I’ll be working in patient’s homes. The same as what Lottie did with Walt. She brought in a nurse so he could die at home. They sent me the contract a few hours ago and I read through it. The salary’s great, the benefits are good. The opportunity couldn’t be more perfect.”
Perfect for her.
As if she could read his mind, she continued, “This was what I was meant to do, Chris. You knew that. You knew this was only temporary. I was upfront about it.”
He wanted to rail at her and ask her how she could just give them up and walk away. Not just from him but Dyna.
A fire now burned in his belly and soon those flames would become uncontrollable. Neither pot nor beer would douse them. He was afraid they’d grow to the point he would explode and say things he’d regret. So, he fought to remain silent.
“You know my memories here aren’t good. In my profession, I can get hired anywhere. Since leaving Manning Grove, I’ve moved place to place because I didn’t want to settle. For me, coming home is settling for the life my parents made. I don’t want to live that life. I don’t want to turn into Trixie. I don’t want any man of mine to turn into Ox. I don’t ever want to see a man use his child, or any child, as a shield. Not ever.”
