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As my heart breaks at the thought of pulling back from Noelle, my only thought is,Too bad it feels like I’m already there.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Noelle
Thecompanywastesnotime in hiring a replacement for Chris Burnham after he’s fired.
Staring at the older, dark-haired Hispanic woman working away at his computer, it marvels me how quickly she’s settled into this place, considering she only just started four hours ago. Rumor has it she’s one of the best, and the company had its eye on her for a while.
The female officer from the day of the incident is waiting for me in one of the meeting rooms. It’s been four days and she has come to give me an update. As I walk there, I think of Maverick.
Where can he be? What has he been doing?
I haven´t seen him since the day he saved me. I shiver thinking about what Mr. Burnham could have done to me. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with him anymore.
I tried calling and texting a few times, but my phone calls go straight to voicemail and my texts remain unanswered.
I just want to know if he is okay and thank him for what he did for me. He keeps saving me from these situations. I can’t help but fall a little bit harder for him each time.
The female officer is seated already, so I sit across from her. She is nice, but every time I see her, I’m reminded again of why she is here, and I just want to be able to put it behind me as soon as possible.
After letting me know he’ll stay in jail for now, waiting for a hearing to find out if he makes bail, she shakes my hand and leaves with the promise to let me know if anything changes.
I’m beyond relieved when she leaves.
Still worried, I think about Maverick and where he can be. He has to be okay.
Unlocking my phone, I dial his number again and sigh. Still nothing.
Come on, where are you?
My mom’s smoking again. She had been free from her addiction for the last two years. Now, she’s picked it up again.
We’re sitting on the patio overlooking the garden of Aunt Jessica’s house, enjoying the blissful silence of the warm spring night. I didn’t tell her about the workplace incident because I don’t want to take the risk of aggravating her mental health. She’s worked too hard to get off her depressive phase. Now, she’s been on a good roll and I can’t ruin that.
“It’s been a while since I did that, you know, the nicotine,” she’s saying, letting out puffs of smoke. “Your father completely hated it. Of course, he didn’t know that I did it while he was away on those damned business trips of his.”
Throwing back a gulp of my root beer, I watch her silently as she talks, trying to gauge her mood. She looks… different. Very different. I noticed it the minute I walked through my aunt’s door. There’s a newness to her, one that’s physically evident. She’s started wearing makeup and also putting highlights in her hair.
All she has to do is to go onFishin’4Loveand rope me a new step-daddy. And with the rate at which she’s doing her own ‘moving on’, that won’t be too hard.
Oh, god, what if my step-father turns out to be some college kid looking for a sugar mommy? I glance at my mom. She’s a good-looking woman, but she’s also broke, so that won’t work—thankfully. Or what if she lands a fellow divorce who’s a deadbeat to his kids? Or worse, what if she matches with an older Trevor? A laugh bubbles up my chest and I quickly swallow it down. No, that isn’t funny but that’s a possibility I can’t rule out, either. The possibility of matching with a lot of men has a fair potential of being a wrecking ball. It’s a risky gamble.
I sigh and throw back a gulp of my drink. Divorces really bring out a lot in people. I’ve only spoken to my father twice since the whole thing happened. The first was two days after my mom broke the news to me and the second time was yesterday. He sounded truly remorseful for the toll it was taking on me. As for my mother, well, let’s just say the only thing she got was a cryptic apology. I don’t know what exactly happened between them but I had a feeling it wasn’t just about infidelity. Well, that played a part, too, but that isn’t the major reason for their split. Their marriage has simply run its course and they are better off not staying together anymore.
Plus, the pre-nup doesn’t even come off as a bone of contention. My mom has received a large cash settlement fee— minus the house and cars— and entitled spousal support. The alimony is enough to compensate her for life, so any other legal tussles are off the table.
I slap away a mosquito hovering around my knee and set down the bottle on the table. “I got good news. The doctor says Abbie’s going to pull through.”
“Oh, that’s good.” My mom smiles at me, happiness reflecting in her pale-blue eyes. “When’s she getting discharged? Still next month?”
“Possibly. Depends on how well she continues to respond to treatment.”
After a few seconds of silence, I blow out an anxious breath. “Mom.”
“Hmm?” she tilts her head. “What is it?”
“You look good. Better. Like a new you. I just wanted to tell you that I like it. I like seeing you coming out of your shell again.”
