The parking garage was dim and echoey, a symphony of other people’s cars starting just fine. I sat there a few minutes longer, the silence pressing in, before I finally popped the hood. Not that it helped. The engine looked like a foreign language.
I prodded at a few things just to feel productive, then gave up and let the hood slam shut. The sound echoed up into the concrete rafters, startling a pigeon that took off in a flurry of wings.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Even the wildlife thinks I’m pathetic.”
I climbed back into the car and tried one more time out of sheer spite. Click. Nothing.
I swore softly, then pressed my forehead to the steering wheel. I was supposed to be halfway up the highway by now, coffee thermos empty, Drew probably texting some smugAre you lost yet?
Instead, I was a grown woman trapped in a parking garage, talking to her car like it owed her an explanation.
Finally, I grabbed my phone. I couldn’t call him yet. Not like this. Not with my voice shaking and my eyes threatening to sting.
I’d have to tell him soon, but first, I needed to—what? Prepare? Practice? Invent a version of this disaster that didn’t make me sound like I was bailing?
I unlocked my phone and opened a new message to Lydia instead. If anyone could help me think straight, it was her.
I texted her.
Car won’t start. I’m stuck in the garage.
It took her less than thirty seconds to reply.
You’ve got to be kidding. Can you get a jump?
I wrote back.
I don’t think so. I’ve tried everything but CPR.
She responded.
So call roadside. Or Drew.
I texted back.
I can’t call Drew yet.
She wrote back.
Why?
I stared at the blinking cursor, thumbs hovering. Because he’ll think I’m lying? Because he’ll think I’m scared to come back? Because maybe he wouldn’t be wrong?
I texted back.
I just can’t, okay?
A pause. Then three dots appeared again.
Mel, he’s going to be devastated.
I blinked at the screen, my stomach dropping.
The worddevastatedhit harder than I expected.
Drew, with his stupid smirk and his terrible puns and his habit of making me laugh when I didn’t want to—devastated? Over me? It didn’t seem possible. But Lydia didn’t exaggerate about things like that.
I leaned my head back against the seat, staring at the message until my eyes blurred.
