At the door she pauses and looks around like she’s taking a photograph inside her head.
“Henry.”
“I know.” I grab her, pull her to me.
She kisses me once more and steps back.
“Maybe call me?” she says.
I pull out my phone as I nod. “I will.”
Then it buzzes.
And she sees the screen.
Her brow furrows. “Uh…who the hell is Francine?”
Thirty-Seven
Tabitha
My heart drops to my stomach.
Francine.
A woman.
God fucking damn it all.
“No one,” he says.
“No one? Then why is her name coming up?”
He sighs. “It’s not what you think.”
“You know what?” I open the front door. “Maybe I just don’t care anymore.”
I walk to the car.
He follows.
I wave him off. “I have to go. If I don’t go now, I…” I inhale a deep breath. “I just have to go, Henry. Please.”
He stops. Nods.
He gets it.
Right now, I’m choosing the seminar. My career. I’ve been honest about that.
As if on cue, as soon as I’m out of the driveway, my phone buzzes with a text from Blake with instructions for tomorrow’s class and a list of cases to be familiar with before the cadaver lab.
He couldn’t have gotten these to us on Friday, when I had time to study them?
I sigh.
This is what I’ve chosen.
This seminar.
