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“But you’re texting a lot.”

“It’s about Otis,” I lie. Thankfully, my phone rings and I don’t have to talk about my two fuck buddies. “Hello,” I answer.

“Deanna.”

The seriousness of my father’s voice makes me pause. “Yes.”

The words that follow don’t make sense, ultimately causing me to sit down on the floor because my knees are too weak. How did this happen? Is he sure? Oh my god. I can’t believe I called her a bitch.

“Deanna!” Rose’s voice snaps me out of it. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“My mom died,” I whisper.

“What?” She sits down next to me. “How?”

“Two eighteen-wheelers collided and one fell over onto my mom’s car. She died on the scene. It happened this morning,” I blandly repeat what was said to me.

The rest of the day is a blur as I see my father, try to help him with anything that needs to be done, and try not to break down. This can’t be real. It’s simply not possible.

Yet, it is.

My mom is dead and in our last conversation, I called her a bitch.

Around ten at night, I decide that I need to escape from all of this. My heart hurts too much. I can’t stop wondering why I haven’t actually cried yet and what’s wrong with me that I haven’t done so. Regret suffocates me. The image of my mom’s vehicle is glued behind my eyelids; the news shows it over and over. I want it all to stop, just for a little while. Sweet Zane seems like the perfect option.

I text him, asking if I can come over, and his yes comes all of thirty seconds later. When I get to his house, he pulls me inside with the smile I knew I’d find on his face. Yes, this is normal and good. If only my mind and body can get with the program instead of robotically going through the motions. Zane kisses me with so much passion. It’s there; I know it is, but I don’t feel a thing.

His hands gently slide under my shirt, caressing my skin for a moment before removing my shirt. At least, that’s the way it should feel. My skin crawls from his touch. Fuck. Why can’t my body react the way I want it to? I want to escape from today. There’s nothing wrong with Zane! He sits me onto his bed, bringing me back to the present, and I lean back while he kisses over my chest.

I stare at his ceiling. What was her last minute like before she died? Did she see the truck toppling toward her? Did she scream? Did she have any regrets? Fuck, I’m an idiot. It’s unlikely she had time to think about that.

Zane pops open the button of my jeans. I shouldn’t be here with him. I want Brayden.

“Deanna?”

My gaze flicks down to Zane who hovers over me with a concerned look.

“What’s wrong? You’re crying.”

My fingertips brush my cheek and feel a dampness. Fuck. More tears fall as I sit up and push Zane away. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s been a rough day. I have to go.” I rush out of his room, find my shirt along the way, and get the hell out of Dodge.

Instead of going to Brayden’s, I drive home and pray for sleep once I get there.

***

My security alarm blares, startling me awake, but just as quickly, it stops. “What the fuck?” I mutter. For a minute, I’m still half-asleep and simply sitting in bed. Then, it hits me that my alarm went off and I should get out of bed to find out why. I’m fucking screwed if it’s a robber since my reaction apparently sucks.

Alarm goes off? Oh, you know, take your time getting out of bed.

A figure appears in my doorway as I’m tossing the covers off.

“Hey,” a female voice whispers.

“Deanna?”

“Yeah.” She walks over and crawls into my bed, covering me up. “Is this okay?” she asks as she sidles up to me, her arm hooking around my waist as her head rests on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I glance over at my alarm clock. It’s two in the morning. What is she doing here? She might show up unannounced, but never this late. “Are you okay?”

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