Page 130 of Big Dill

He folds his arms. “Why don’t you let her decide for herself what she wants?”

“I thought I was doing that.”

His features soften again, just enough to cut through the panic in my chest. “She’s scared, Brody. She’s been hurt. Maybe she needs to hear how you really feel.”

“How. What do I do?”

A long beat and then, “I think you know.”

The room suddenly feels too small. My mind races, flipping through everything she’s ever said, every glance, every laugh, every hint she ever gave me. My chest tightens, pounding with urgency. I lift my eyes, and Jaxon is there, steady, waiting, like he’s waiting for me to have an epiphany.

“You’re right,” I whisper, voice raw. “I do.”

30

Jami

I stand outside Halifax’s Stanfield International Airport, shoulders slumped, eyes swollen and red from a combination of exhaustion and crying. My carry-on hangs from one hand, my suitcase, full of my new clothing line, rests at my side. I glance left, then right, my chest tightening. I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to.

I pull my phone from my bag and open the Uber app. A manic laugh escapes me, drawing strange looks from travelers hurrying to their destination.

Destination…ha.

I’m in my hometown, and I don’t even have a safe haven.

Sure, I could go home, crawl into my childhood bed with my tail between my legs, but after everything I’ve been through, I’m not ready for the lectures, the I told you so’s. My parents wouldn’t understand. Within a week, they’d probably have me teaching kindergarten somewhere, living a life I don’t want, a life I never asked for.

What life do you want to live, Jami?

I glance around, heart thumping because the life I want I can no longer have. My gut screams at me to call Lauren. She’s always been my anchor, my best friend…my constant. But the last time we spoke, it felt like I’d been erased from her life. Like she’d moved on without me? Or was that just my fear talking?

I suck in a shaky breath and type a quick text:

* * *

Me: Surprise. I’m home. Are you around?

* * *

It’s Friday morning. Who knows if she’s at work, sleeping after a night shift, or off with friends…maybe even Caleb. My chest tightens with every passing second until the three little dots appear.

* * *

Lauren: Just finished a night shift and crawling into bed. You still have your key?

* * *

A small wave of relief washes over me. Her text isn’t warm and cozy, not like a text between best friends who haven’t seen each other in a while, but at least I have a place to go. I fumble for the keychain, fingers brushing Lauren’s key, and reply.

* * *

Me: Yes. Get some sleep. I’ll hang out until you wake up. Sleep well.

* * *

I drop my phone into my bag and lean against the airport wall, exhaling shakily. One small thread of connection. That’s all I have. And somehow, somehow, it’s enough to keep me moving forward.

I call for an Uber. It arrives five minutes later, and I sink into the back seat, staring out the window as familiar streets slide past. Halifax hasn’t changed. Or maybe it has, and I’m the one who doesn’t fit anymore. Every storefront, every intersection pulls at something tight in my chest.