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“Okay.” Her voice drops so low I barely hear her. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the second we hang up, she starts crying all over again. I will too. Because this situation is annoying and heartbreaking and fucked up. And I hate that I can’t hold her right now. Can’t press her against my chest and rub a hand up and down her back. Can’t promise her everything will be alright. Although, the prospect of getting a job and saving to see her again lights a fire inside me.
“I wish I didn’t have to.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Seconds later, and with much reluctance, the call ends. As sad and frustrated as I am with being stuck in a situation I can’t reverse, hope flares anew for us. And we both hold on to that hope with every breath we take. Because hope is all we have.
But little do we know, things don’t always go according to plan. And life has a way of throwing curveballs. Curveballs that batter and bruise hearts.
Four
Gavin
Present
Something jabs me in the ribs as I roll from my side onto my back. I swipe my hand behind me in an attempt to remove said object. I pat and swipe and wave my arm. Whatever it is, it’s still there. What the hell? I dig near my ribs and after no success locating the source, I flop over, land on my back and groan. Not only am I being stabbed by some invisible foreign object, but my body is on fire.
I open my eyes and squint, feeling disoriented for a moment.
Never-ending blue, puffy white clouds and the morning sun brighten the sky directly above. In my left periphery is a tall oak tree, the limbs hang overhead while the leaves flutter in the slight breeze. To my right is a row of bushy grass plants. The smell of grass and earth and something floral hits my nose. Birds chirp all around. Squirrels scamper past me. And I swear I hear ducks quacking nearby.
When I roll to sit up, every muscle in my body reacts. My back stiff, neck throbbing, shoulders sore, eyes swollen. Like I partied all night and missed all the good parts.
Once I reorient myself and attempt to work the pain from my muscles, I squint at my surroundings. Adjust to the brightness and focus on what is in front of me. Gray siding, black trim and window treatments, and bushy shrubs.
Cora’s house. More accurate—Cora’s back patio.
I glance over to the driveway and notice her car is still missing. And the fact that she hasn’t been at home all night worries me in more ways than one. She was so upset when she left my side last night. She tried to fight it, but I could tell the dam was about to burst the second she left. I only hope wherever she is, she arrived safe.
If anything happened to her, if she got into a car wreck, I would never forgive myself. Wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
“Fuck…” I mutter as I stretch my neck and back.
I walk over to the stoop by her back door and make myself comfortable. There is no way I am leaving until
I know she is home and she is safe. Even if that means I sit here for hours. She may not want to talk to me right now, which I completely understand, but I won’t let her run away from this. From us.
Not when I just got her back. Not after all the strides we have made. The rekindling we have done. The love I saw in her eyes when she looked into mine. I refuse to lose her.
No matter what it takes, I will fight for her. For me. For us. No chance in hell I am letting this slip through the cracks. And although it took me far too long to come back to her—and under the wrong circumstances—I won’t throw in the towel now. Not happening. I won’t let her give up so easily either. Our lives may be in different places now, but one fact remains one-hundred-percent unchanged.
We love each other. Plain and simple.
And nothing or no one will steal the love we share from us. Never again.
I pull my phone from my pocket—again—and check the time. Ten thirty-five. Not only have I been awake and sitting by Cora’s back door for over two hours, I have been at her house for close to twelve hours. And she hasn’t.
Luna is probably freaking out inside looking for her Mom and her breakfast.
Slowly but surely, I start to freak out a bit too. By now, I thought she would be home. The fact that she isn’t, has me worrying more—about where she is and why she hasn’t come home. Elbows resting on my knees, I drop my head in my hands and groan. Please let her be okay. Not in some hospital getting treated for injuries because she couldn’t focus enough to drive.
But another thought crosses my mind. A thought that boils my blood and chills me to the bone simultaneously.
Who is she with? After our argument last night, would she go running into another man’s arms? And not just any man, but a man she trusts. A man she is comfortable with and confides in. Jonas.
Would she go to him to be consoled? Would she use her friendship with him to punish me? God, I hope not. The Cora I know doesn’t seem the type to do such petty or callous things. But the Cora I know isn’t the Cora that exists today. And that scrap of knowledge stings more than anything.
