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He doesn’t answer, just eyeballs me and leans against his pickup.
“Listen. I understand you two are engaged, but I need to ask her something. Five minutes is all I ask.”
“Yeah, about that,” he says. “We’re not engaged. I said that because I figured you were the shit who hurt her. Am I right?”
“I don’t know how I hurt her,” I answer. “I’ve tried to get hold of her, but she won’t respond.” I hold my palms up.
“She’s in the house. Why don’t you go ask her?”
“She is?”
“Yeah. You two need to talk.”
It takes a second for things to sink in, but when they do, I thank him and sprint to the house. Walk in without knocking.
“Amber, you in here? Amber?”
I search every room on the main floor before making my way upstairs. Two bedroom doors are open, and she’s not in either one. I open the door to the closet, knowing it’s the closet, and close it, shaking my head.
There is one more room up here to check, and the door is closed. The arm wrestler said she was in the house, so this is where she has to be.
I think about barging in but knock instead. Need to show her the respect she deserves.
There is no response, so I rap on the wood a little harder.
A reply comes back this time. “What is it?”
“Can we talk?”
