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I’d done that over the last weeks, ever since that night in the trailer.
But I’d been avoiding him, pretending that if I kept that distance, eventually I wouldn’t want him. I’d even gone so far as to continue driving by Bailey’s new house, pretending I hadn’t been able to make our scheduled hangout because of a crisis in town.
All because I’d seen Joel’s car in their driveway.
Because I couldn’t be there with him.
Not feeling so vulnerable and raw.
I needed more time to stitch up the wound, solder down the edges of my shield. To feel untouchable. Tobeuntouchable.
I’d thought I was there.
That tonight would be safe. The season underway. Joel playing hockey. Me playing mayor.
I’d thought I could do this.
Instead, I’d found that he was too close.
Too close to sending me to pieces, to tears, to sleepless nights and wanting something that wouldn’t ever be.
Add in the fact that I’d been working late, sneaking around, still sleeping on the fucking couch, and I was exhausted and emotional and felt like I’d been put directly through the emotional ringer. Or an old-fashioned washing machine.
Rubbed fiercely against a plate of corrugated metal.
Dragged through its wheels, squeezed fiercely, all the moisture wrung out.
Iwas wrung out.
I was…so not in the mood to seeing my parents standing outside the trailer.
Waiting for me.
“BR!” my dad hollered when I’d slowed, debating whether or not I could melt into the shadows, disappear until they’d gone home.
Home because my dad was making it happen.
They were rebuilding, and they’d begun with the bottom story. Specifically, one bedroom and one bathroom so they could live there while the construction crew finished the rest of the project. That sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, but my dad loved nothing more than being in the thick of things. So, micromanaging the rebuilding of his house from the inside out was perfect for him.
It was good, anyway, at least for the town. For people to be back living in River’s Bend.
Even if it meant that I’d begun avoiding themandJoel at the trailer.
Another source of exhaustion.
“You sure you gave them enough time, BR?” my dad boomed.
I couldn’t decide ifBRwas better or worse thanharpy.
Worse, maybe. Because I’d been hearing it for longer.
“I stayed until the last person left, Dad,” I said, pausing in front of them and holding in my wince. My feet were killing me because even though I’d changed into sneakers for the game, I’d spent the day in heels. And a pantsuit.
Ugh.
“Even the rink staff?” my dad pressed.
My shoulders tensed. “There was one guy left,” I admitted, feeling like I was about to be sent to the principal’s office. “But since he was on the ice resurfacer, so I couldn’t talk to him.”
