Page 195 of Josephine and Clay

Penny’s shoulders loosen a fraction. “Oh, honey.”

“I know he left. I know he hurt me.” My throat tightens. “But he sounded so alone.”

“You love him.”

I stare at her.

I never actually said it out loud, not even to myself. But hearing it now doesn't surprise me. If anything, it explains too much.

My eyes burn suddenly. “That seems inconvenient.”

Penny laughs under her breath and squeezes my hand. “Unfortunately, love usually is.”

I look down at my stomach instinctively. At the babies he still doesn’t know about. Then back toward my phone.

Toward the voicemail waiting there.

Toward the sound of Clay trying and failing to convince himself he’s fine.

“I can’t stay here wondering if he’s okay,” I whisper.

Penny studies me for a long moment.

Then she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I’m packing snacks because none of you people make responsible choices under emotional distress.”

“That’s fair.”

“It’s deeply fair.”

Since hearing the voicemail, it's the first time the pressure in my chest has eased at all.

We’re going to him.

And beneath all the fear, exhaustion, and terrible decision-making, I know I'm making the only choice I can live with.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Clay

AUGUST 13TH

I wake up feeling actively poisoned.

I keep my eyes closed because opening them feels ambitious and my skull already seems one bad decision away from splitting clean in half.

Unfortunately, consciousness arrives anyway.

My mouth tastes awful. My head pounds hard enough to match the pulse in my leg, and every muscle in my body sits heavy beneath motel sheets that smell faintly of bleach and stale cigarette smoke.

“Hell,” I mutter into the pillow.

Memory returns slowly after that.

Whiskey. Pain pills. The voicemail I'd left.

My eyes snap open.

I regret it immediately.