He didn’t believe me. Not really. And maybe he shouldn’t have.
Because if our positions were reversed, I’d probably doubt me too.
I sank onto the edge of the couch, staring at the phone until my reflection blurred on the black screen. My pulse was still racing, my stomach a tight, restless knot. Lydia’s text from earlier flashed across my mind—He’s going to be devastated.
Yeah.
He was.
And somehow, knowing that hurt worse than if he’d yelled.
I set the phone down, pressing both hands to my face. The air in my apartment felt too still, too thick. The coffee I’d poured earlier had gone cold on the counter. My suitcase sat by the door, the zipper still half-open.
I stared at it for a long time.
He thought I didn’t want to come. That this was just another almost. Another false start.
And maybe I didn’t blame him for thinking that, but the thought of him standing there in that bar—waiting, doubting, disappointed—lit something stubborn and sharp inside me.
I’d made a promise.
And I wasn’t going to break it.
I snatched my phone off the couch and opened a new message to Lydia.
You still have that guy who knows everyone and is always broke?
Her reply came almost instantly.
You mean my cousin Ryan? Why?
I wrote back.
I need a favor.
The bubbles appeared, followed by her text.
Oh gosh.
I wrote back.
I need a ride to Reckless River.
There was a long pause and then.
You’re serious?
I replied.
Dead serious.
She wrote.
Mel, it’s hours, and then he’d have to drive back.
I typed back.
Tell him I’ll pay big.
