We started in Colombia. After a ton of research, Ash mapped out a path that we could trailblaze to the city of Manaus in Brazil. I can’t believe we did all 681 miles with only what we could carry. It’s our hardest trip so far and that’s saying something. Regardless, we loved every minute of it.
I take a moment before turning my phone on. The sun is doing its best to hide below the tree line in the west. I should start a fire, but not just yet. I take in a deep breath through my nostrils, pulling in the scent of the tall grass and bask in the bubbling sounds of the creek running through the middle of this lush paradise. The meadow, with its surrounding canopy of every shade of green, calms my nerves. This just might be the last moment of peace I’ll get to enjoy for a very long time, and I savor every millisecond.
Ash has stepped away out of earshot with his phone to his ear. We chose this location because it’s within cell service.
Left alone, I grip my phone, hesitant to turn it on. I guess there’s no point in avoiding the inevitable. I’ll apologize, tell her howdeeply sorry I am, then… then I’ll just listen. It’s the best I can do. Hopefully, it’s enough.
As soon as I power it up, a series of pings indicates more missed messages than I can count. I ignore all of them and go straight to the only one I care about—the last one from Veronica. But I can’t help noticing it’s from three weeks ago. Should I be concerned? I guess there’s one way to find out. Filling my lungs with a desperate pull of air for courage, I man up and press play.
“Where are you? I haven’t heard from you in months. I was worried, but Elsie said she was still able to track your movements, so you must be fine. I don’t understand why you haven’t called, but I guess that really doesn’t matter anymore.”
I press stop. Doesn’t matter anymore? I can hear it in her voice, and a river stone the size of a watermelon settles in the pit of my stomach. I know what comes next, and somehow, I’m not surprised. Not really.
With an anguished sigh, I bite the bullet and press play again, not because I’m curious, and not because I want to hear the rest of her heart-wrenching message, but because I deserve the pain. I did this to myself.
“I wanted to tell you in person, but how could I when you’re never here? You’re a great guy, but this just wasn’t working for me. I waited for as long as I could, hoping to hear from you, but when I never did, I met someone else. He manages his own hedge fund, which means he’s always here. That’s what I need. It’s what any woman needs, so you don’t have the right to blame me or even be mad at me. I wish I could say it was good while it lasted, but you had to know how hard it was to never see you. I deserve better. Any girl deserves better. Maybe keep that in mind the next time youflash those gorgeous baby blues at a girl. I’m only telling you this as a friend. Anyway, I should end this now. I hope you have a great life, and I really mean that. Meanwhile, please don’t try to contact me. I’m moving on, and so should you.”
My heart sinks.
Ash is a good distance away with his phone back in his pocket. He’s standing there with his chin propped on the tall walking stick that he made from a hickory limb when he was fifteen. When we make eye contact, I shake my head, but instead of saying something, he just eyes me with a raised brow. Maybe it’s because I’m in a bad mood, but it’s like a cheese grater down my spine.
I know he knows what happened. Unfortunately, he’s seen it before, my I-want-to-stick-a-pencil-in-my-eye expression. I also know how bad he wants to tell me he told me so. When it comes to relationships, he keeps insisting that our lifestyle makes this sort of outcome inevitable, and because I’m an idiot, I keep ignoring him. I’m starting to think he has a point. Still, he doesn’t say anything as he swaggers over. He knows better than to give me the smart-ass remark I know he’s dying to share with me right now. It’s too soon. But he can’t help himself. He may not use his words to antagonize me, but he has other methods. Quietly, he sets his meaty butt on his pack after moving it so close I could reach over and deck him. And despite that very real possibility, with a fearless, wry grin, he pulls out his pocketknife and starts carving a new notch in that damn walking stick.
This makes the eighth notch—one for each girl who’s dumped me while we’ve been out in the wild on our many adventures. I bring a hand up and try to rub the tension outof the back of my neck. I need a moment to think.
Meanwhile, Ash’s silence is like a loudspeaker pressed against my ear screaming at me to get my head screwed on straight.
You know what? As much as I hate to admit it, maybe he’s right.
Actually, I know he’s right. I don’t even have to think about it. I’ve had years of disappointing heartbreaks to figure it out, and it’s never going to change. Damn.
With that settled, my mind is made up. It’s so obvious I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before. I’m done with his fucking notches. From now on, no more relationships!
CHAPTER 3
Maddie
I should be dead.
I fell asleep twice on the way home. Waking up just as your car is swerving into oncoming traffic really gets your blood pumping, let me tell you. And after the first time, I thought for sure I was wide awake, but then it happened again. One of these days, I won’t wake up in time. I wonder if being dead is anything like sleeping. If it is, make my coffin pink and bury me now, because I’d do just about anything to get more rest.
A customer stayed past closing again. I hate that. I have so little time as it is, so every precious minute counts, and the last thing I need is to be getting home at this hour.
As I walk through the front door, I wish I could go straight to my room and collapse. But that’s a fantasy I simply can’t afford. There always seems to be too much to do. Like right now. Before I round the corner, I already know what to expect in the kitchen. I toss my car keys into the wood bowl sitting atop the entryway table, then confirm my suspicions. Standing under the archway that leads to thedining area, I let out a long sigh in defeat. This time I was wrong—it’s worse than I imagined.
The sink is completely full of dirty dishes, the trash is overflowing, there’s food on the table, and the countertops are disgusting. I want to scream. Why am I the only one who cleans around here?
But as bad as the mess is, the kitchen cleanup will have to wait until after I check on Mom. As I pass the laundry room, I notice piles of dirty clothes strewn everywhere, which reminds me that I’ll need to throw a load of my own in tonight. I stop and take a second to check. Yep, the washer is full of wet clothes. And yep, just as I suspected, the dryer is empty. Why am I not surprised? They’re my brother’s clothes. Guess I’ll put them in the dryer for him. It’s a small thing, but still, why couldn’t he finish his own laundry instead of leaving it for me?
I find Mom sitting up in bed, playing solitaire on a special hospital table that swivels around to hover over her lap. She’s not wearing her scarf. Her baldness always takes my breath away. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I don’t know how you get used to something like that. She looks so frail and emaciated. Breast cancer is a real bitch.
Right after she was diagnosed, Mom insisted that I get tested for the BRCA gene. I don’t know who was more relieved when the test came back negative, me or her.
“Did you take your meds?” I ask with a forced smile as I step into her room. To see her like this pains me down to my very core.
“Oh, you’re finally home,” she says with a hand over her chest. Apparently, I startled her, but her smile lets me know she’s relieved to see me. Then she does what I lovemost. Her thin arms, with IV ports taped to them, reach out. “Come give your mother a hug.”
Like I said, this is my favorite part of my hectic days. I pull her table out of the way, careful not to disturb her cards. As I lean down, I have to be gentle and not squeeze too tight. She’s lost so much weight that there’s not much of her left to hug. But it’s still nice. Her body is still warm, and that’s a blessing I don’t take lightly. Still, she’s just wasting away, and I don’t know what to do about it. There has to be something, right? But what?
