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TWENTY-FOUR
We walkedfor hours before we finally found a damned gas station. It was on the edge of town, so there were other stores and motels and shit around. I was starving, but my blisters had healed just as quickly as they developed, so at least I wasn’t in pain.
I was really damn dirty, though.
Zed gave me a gentle push toward the bathroom, and a small smile. Though I’d been quiet and avoided talking about the shit that made me self-conscious, he had told me stories about his time in the restaurant biz that had made me laugh a couple of times as we walked. He seemed to know that I didn’t want to talk, but didn’t want things to be awkwardly quiet, and he didn’t have a problem filling the silence for me.
He knew I needed to pee damned badly, because I’d started talking a bit more halfway into our long-ass walk, and we’d exchanged complaints, jokes, and laughs.
It had been sort of fun, honestly.
I used the bathroom, and scrubbed at my hands. In the florescent lights, they somehow managed to look even more disgusting than they had outside.
My gaze lifted to my reflection, and I grimaced.
I was an absolute wreck. Ratted, dirty hair up in a ponytail. Clothes and skin just as coated in dirt as my hair, too.
Sheesh.
My mind went back to the diner.
To Stewart.
Shit, he was an ass.
My eyes started to water angrily, though, and I wiped at them frustratedly with my wet hands, only dripping more water down my cheeks.
Grabbing a paper towel, I dried my hands and then my face. I was an absolute shitshow.
Stewart’s words flashed through my mind again.
“It wasn’t… good.”
My whole body clenched.
Dammit, I hated that he affected me so much.
But it wasn’t like he’d had a reason to lie to me. We’d been over for ages, and it wasn’t as if he was worried about sparing my feelings.
My back met the clean-ish wall of the gas station’s bathroom, and I tilted my head back. My damned eyes wanted to water again, but I was refusing to let the tears fall.
I had trusted Stewart. He was the only man I had trusted in almost nineteen years, when we’d been together. We’d been best friends. I’d been almost certain that I was in love with him when we started officially dating—he had talked about marriage. I hadn’t been in that deep, but I had still been in deep.
I’d thought we were on the same page. I hadn’t enjoyed most of the sex, but I assumed we’d figure it out. I had been a virgin, before him. Never even kissed a guy. He was my first everything, and…
It wasn’t good enough.
Iwasn’t good enough.
Logically, I knew I was a much different person than I’d been all those years ago.
But emotionally, I was still attached.
It might not have mattered to him, but it had mattered to me.
A lot.
I spent a few minutes forcing the tears that hadn’t fallen to dry up. My throat was still a bit swollen, but I stepped out of the bathroom. Zed was waiting, leaned up against a wall near the door that led out of the small gas station. His arms were loaded up with bags of what looked like snack foods.
