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I take one last deep breath and slide out of the driver’s seat. When I do, I can’t help but giggle at the thought of Rueben trying to get his big, long body in or out of this tiny car. Squaring my shoulders, I shut the driver’s door and keep my eye on the prize…or the front door. It’s open, that beautiful mountain air moving through the downstairs as it did so often when I was here with him.
A quick glance at the driveway reveals his SUV, along with one I know to be his brother’s. I’m not really enthused about doing this with an audience, but it is what it is, right? No turning back now. I’m sure he heard my car pull in anyway.
As I take my first step up the stairs, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Royce walks around the corner of the house, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging out. Almost in disbelief. Yeah, he’s definitely surprised to see me. I just hope his brother’s shock is of the happy kind. “Shit,” he mumbles.
Okay, not really the response I was going for.
“Hey, Royce,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “Sorry to just drop in on you guys, but I was sort of hoping to see Rueben. Is he in the house?” I step off the stairs and head toward the older Rigsby brother. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, watching me approach.
“Uhh, no,” he says, running his hand over the back of his neck the way his brother does.
Dejection sweeps through my blood as I take in how uncomfortable Royce looks. It’s like he doesn’t know what to say to me. “Oh. Okay. Ummm, do you know where he is?”
Finally, he smiles. No, he doesn’t smile. He laughs. He bursts into a fit of hard, belly-shaking laughter, which causes him to double over and put his hands on his knees, confusing me that much more. He doesn’t say anything for a few long seconds, which turns into a minute. When his brown eyes finally meet mine, his dances with humor.
“Funny story, Cricket…”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rueben
I raise my hand and knock on her door. There’s music coming from the apartment, some slow melancholy bit by an artist I don’t know. My heart starts to pound a heavy beat, much like it did the moment I landed in San Francisco. It took me longer to get here, mostly because I struggled to figure out their public transportation system. I’m not used to cable cars and figuring out stop schedules, so after taking one wrong car, I finally was able to get myself close enough to Cricket’s apartment and just hoofed it on foot.
Now, I’m here.
Ready to claim the woman I’ve fallen in love with.
When the door opens, I’m struck stupid and speechless. The woman in front of me is staring at me, expectantly, waiting on me to speak. “Uhh, hi?” I say, my words coming out a question.
The woman is pretty with her long dark hair pulled up in one of those messy buns and a tight T-shirt and black yoga pants. The problem is she’s not Cricket. She gives me a smile. “Can I help you?”
I glance behind her, as if waiting for Cricket to magically appear, or at the very least for the camera crew to jump out and scream “gotcha!” I find the small apartment filled with boxes, some opened and discarded, while others stacked up along the back wall, waiting to be unpacked. A man walks around the corner and gives me an inquisitive look. “Can we help you?” he asks as he approaches the door and throws his arm over the woman’s shoulder.
“Sorry, I must have the wrong apartment,” I mumble, glancing down the hall and checking the number on the door.
“Who are you looking for?” the lady asks.
“Cricket Hill?”
Why did that come out a question?
“Oh, she doesn’t live here anymore,” she replies.
Wait, what?
She gives me a grin. “We just moved in today. We’re subleasing.”
I’m not sure how long I stand there, but it’s long enough to make them uncomfortable. Finally, the man says, “So…” leaving it hanging open for me to finish.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Do you know where she went?”
They both shake their heads. “Sorry, no. The moving van was here this morning when we arrived to get the keys. She was gone about an hour later.”
My heart drops to my shoes. I can’t believe she’s…gone. I mean, we talk all the time and she never once mentioned moving. Maybe that’s a sign that our relationship isn’t what I thought it as, wasn’t going to the place I had hoped. It’s not sadness I feel take root in my chest, it’s utter despair.
“Oh, okay. Well, thank you,” I tell them, taking a step back and then another. The couple watches me go, finally shutting the door when I reach the stairs to head back down to the ground.
Outside, the air is thick and almost gloomy, which is par for the course, considering my sudden mood. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t her being gone completely, without so much as a goodbye or kiss my ass.
