AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She trails off, looking down at her hands folded together on the table. The waitress comes and delivers our lunch plates, and I look at her this time. Taylor was right. She’s undeniably sexy and exactly my type. And she’s clearly interested by the way she leans over a little too much when she sets my plate in front of me, but she’s not Aubrey. She doesn’t even come close to being as gorgeous as Aubrey.
When the waitress is gone, I look at Taylor and her eyes are still filled with unshed tears, but she’s smiling.
“Taylor, you have nothing to apologize for. I know my cancer wasn’t just hard for me. It was hard for us all but—hey, even my docs all say I’m on the right path now. So, no more tears and help me with my current problem. A real-life girl problem, if you can imagine it.”
Taylor shakes out her hands and picks up her fork, ready to dig into her enchiladas.
“Okay. Yes, girl problem. I can help with this. Start from the beginning again and no detail is too small.”
When Monday rolls around, I almost don’t call the bakery. Aubrey still hasn’t responded to my texts, but I try to rationalize it. What if Aubrey isn’t a fan of texting? Or what if she’s been home all weekend and doesn’t get good reception on her ancient cell phone? So I make my usual morning call to Bea.
Only, a few hours later, Bea calls me back.
“You haven’t heard from Aubrey, have you?” she asks.
“No. Why?”
Wait a minute. Is she mocking me? Does she know my texts went unanswered all weekend? Is this Aubrey’s way of telling me to leave her alone?
Bea interrupts my thoughts, which are spinning wildly out of control.
“She hasn’t shown up to work, Emmett. Her shift started two hours ago, and she’s never even been late before. I tried calling her cell phone. It goes straight to voicemail.”
I can hear the concern in Bea’s voice and my throat burns. I clench my fingers around the phone I’m holding up to my ear.
“I’ll call you back,” I bite out and end the call.
Immediately, I try calling Aubrey. Just as Bea said it did for her, my call goes straight to voicemail. Something isn’t right. I don’t know why I have this feeling, but there’s a pit in my stomach and I just know—something isn’t right.
I pull on my shoes as fast I can and grab the keys to my SUV. When I pull onto the narrow road leading toward Aubrey’s house, I almost stop and turn around. My thoughts are grappling in my mind. One side believes that Aubrey needs my help. The other is worried that she’s completely fine and is distancing herself from me in a dramatic way.
I make it to her house and there are no cars outside. The twenty or so steps from my vehicle to the front door make my legs ache in a way they shouldn’t. My hand is unusually heavy as I lift it to knock on the front door.
I stand in front of her house for five minutes after knocking. No one comes to the door and I can’t hear any movement on the other side of it. I knock again. Another five minutes go by and still nothing.
Defeated and more confused than I was half an hour ago, I get back in my vehicle and drive home. I call Bea and let her know that I didn’t get an answer at her door. She promises to let me know if she hears from her.
I make it back to the Barn, where I’ve been spending most of my time. I fall onto the couch and lay there the rest of the afternoon. Wallowing in self pity, worrying about Aubrey and convincing myself that she’s fine over and over again, in that order.
She just has absolutely no interest in me is the sad truth I land on.
Chapter eighteen
Aubrey
AftermorningBiblestudyand prayers on Monday, Mother informs me that Thomas Hill’s mother, June, has a wedding dress for me. It was June’s dress that she wore when she married Thomas’ father. Thomas’ parents were one of the first matches to be made within the church. It’s supposed to be considered a great honor to be marrying Thomas and an even greater one to be able to wear June’s dress. Truthfully, I nearly vomit in my own mouth at the thought of a wedding dress.
The three of us pile into the family car to go to the Hill’s house and try on the dress. My parents must think if they both come on this outing, it will be harder for me to make a run for it. What I hate admitting is, I don’t have the mental strength to run. All the unknowns have me tied to the lot in life I’ve been given.
That is until I see Thomas and I see myself in the dress.
It’s a white gunny sack of a dress that goes to the floor, with sleeves down to my wrists and a high collar. The fabric is itchy and hot and wearing it makes it difficult to breathe. My heart feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest as I stare at myself in the mirror. The murmurs of approval from my and Thomas’ mothers sound distorted and far away.
I’ve read about panic attacks, know the symptoms, and I think I’m having my very first one. I mumble something about needing to use the restroom and hurry back out of the Thomas’ living room to the bathroom down the hall. As soon as the door is locked behind me, I rip the hot, itchy fabric off me and slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor in my underwear.
My rapid breathing eventually slows after a few minutes and I get myself dressed in the clothes I came in. I hang the grotesque white gown back on its hanger and splash cold water on my face before rejoining the moms. They talk for a few more minutes about the plans for tomorrow’s ceremony while I sit silently on the couch, rhythmically squeezing each of my knuckles.
The chatter about the ceremony continues between my parents on the drive home. I try to tune them out while I stare out the window from the back seat of the car. Mom and Dad are so entranced in their happy conversation they don’t take notice of the black SUV that’s turning the corner onto the main road as we pull onto the long drive that leads back to our house. I notice it though, and my heart drops straight into my lower stomach.
