Page 139 of Sterling Stone

“Stop it, Taxi,” I scold myself, taking the warning to not let my imagination get the best of me.

Instead, I beat myself up for suggesting that Simon should not be with her. Who else could love him like she does? Of course, I can love him. And Judd and Genie love him, but Trudy’s love is just different. It cannot be replicated. Her love is unique.

Just like Stone’s.

Next, I berate myself for leaving him last night. It wasn’t like I slipped out the door, but we didn’t actually have a warm fuzzy goodbye. Not like the hour earlier, when he gave me another mind-blowing orgasm on the dining room table and then took me to his room, worshipping me the way only Stone ever has.

I curse. “Get yourself together, Tallulah Alexander.”

Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here, and it can be shattered in an instant. The situation with Simon is reminding me that a person can be gone in minutes. Lost to you forever. Like Mama. Like Sedona and Jolene’s daddy. Like Stone’s parents.

I don’t want to be broken anymore.

Messy pieces can still be put back together again. For some reason, I think of that Japanese art where pottery is created from bits and pieces. Golden joinery. Kintsugi.

Mural paintings are similar. The staggard bricks are the canvas. The connecting of angles and edges linking together, creating a final, beautiful artwork.

I want that image to be family. My family. The family I make with Trudy, Simon, and Stone, bleeding outward and blending with his large family, and hopefully, one day, maybe bringing back my sisters.

“And I want a backyard,” I blurt as if my Gloria will answer. She’s been a good listener over the years, having traveled miles and miles with me. But I’m ready for something real, something concrete, something solid as a stone to hear my story.

The ups and downs. The silvers and golds. The black and white. And all the colors in between.

Beige comes to mind. A color I typically consider bland and boring has become one of my favorite shades on the color wheel.

The hue of Stone.

And once we find Simon, because we will find Simon, dammit, I’m going to tell Stone how I feel. No more holding back. No restrictions or pauses.

Plot twist.

I love him.

And I want to start building on that love as soon as I tell him.

My phone rings as if Stone knows I’ve been thinking of him. I answer breathlessly.

“Yes,” I say, hopeful, expectant.

Stone’s voice rings through the phone. “I found him.”

Oh, thank God.

46

[Stone]

Itook a big chance, and it paid off.

Because Simon wasn’t answering his phone, Judd started to believe either the phone was forgotten or the charge dead. Judd also had a people search app on Simon’s phone, being over cautious about Simon’s whereabouts, but the feature didn’t seem to be working. It can happen, he explained. Depending on manually powering off a phone versus it simply being dead or the service being spotty.

The thought was hopeful in a roundabout sense. At least something hadn’t happened directly to Simon. He could simply be lost without a way to make contact. Or be contacted.

The sliver of hope still did nothing to put me at ease.

So I took a risk and headed to a place I’d run to if I were running away.

A greater fear was that Simon intended to hurt himself. Something I didn’t want to consider, but also didn’t have a choice to ignore.