But I ignore him
I whip out my notebook and scribble something on it and tape it to the window.
Then I head back downstairs. The guys are leaning against my pickup, and I give them a curt sideways tilt of my head indicating to move.
They get the idea, and I grab my plant and shove it in the passenger seat.
“Hey,” shouts Marcus as I start up the engine. “Goodbye then.”
I don’t have time to write an explanation. I pull out of the driveway and leave them calling after me.
In the rearview, I see Marcus shake his head, no doubt muttering curses under his breath. I chuckle to myself. I can’t wait till I can speak again and give him shit back.
26
AVERY
Ipull the comforter tight around my chest and squeeze my eyes shut tight. Ed is leaving today. He’s out there now across the road packing his belongings into his pickup, ready to ride out of town. I know this because Paige messaged me that the guys were planning to come and see him off. It seems he thought he could slip out of town with no one noticing. Typical Ed.
He’s come into Hope, raised more money for the center than anyone, helped clear the land for Joel, put up with Hudson’s frowning presence and Marcus’s goofing around, and he still thinks no one will miss him.
My heart clenches at the knowledge that he’s leaving. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad to the window.
I peel back the edge of the curtain and peek out.
Ed is talking with Joel a little way apart from the group. Marcus leans in the window of Joel’s pickup taking to his girls.
I’ve gotten to know the potty-mouthed kiwi, a colloquial term for a New Zealander, over the last few months. It’s comforting to know he was on Jake’s SEAL team. They must have had a laugh together.
Marcus must have been the comic relief to the serious Ed.
Another car turns onto the street, and I recognize Hudson’s SUV. Ed’s gaze turns this way, and I drop the edge of the curtain. My heart thumps wondering if he saw me. I wonder if he’s going to say goodbye or just leave. Probably just leave.
I crawl back into bed and pull the covers tight over my chest.
I just have to get through the next ten minutes, and then he’ll be gone. And I can get on with my life.
Even as I think the words, I know that won’t be easy. How do you get on with life when your heart’s breaking?
I hear his car start up, and I hold my breath. The guys are calling out their goodbyes, and Marcus is using some choice words. I’m thankful Mom and Dad went out early, or Mom’s ears would be burning.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing him to turn off the engine, fling open my front door, and run up the stairs to me. To tell me he made a mistake, and he’s not leaving.
Instead, the car pulls down the street. I listen until I hear the pickup turn the corner and the engine fade away as he leaves.
A sob wracks my body, and I pull my knees to my chest in the fetal position.
I try to channel the confidence with which I spoke to Ed on the night of the auction. If he’s not willing to stay for me, then he’s not worth it. But all it brings is another sob.
I stay in bed until the slamming of car doors lets me know the guys are leaving. Their engines roar to life then fade away, leaving the street in silence.
A calm descends on me.
He’s gone. It’s done. I let the sadness wash over me for another few minutes. But I refuse to stay in bed and cry all day over a man who wouldn’t stay.
I wipe my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I pad to the window, and for the first time in days, I pull the curtains.
I keep my eyes downcast to the street. The front yard across the road looks almost the same as it did a few months ago before Ed moved in. Except the lawns aren’t as neat as when Dad was doing them. Grass grows up around the paving stones, and someone left the gate open.
