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“Yes, honey?”
“Is the house . . . can I . . . how bad is the damage?” I finally get out.
Amanda sits behind her desk and combs through some files until she finds the one she’s looking for. She pulls it out of her drawer and flips the papers inside.
“It’s not too bad. Just some damage to the roof and the private walkway to the beach, mostly.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Insurance will cover the majority of it, your dad always kept up with that. You’ll need to call them tomorrow to find out what your deductible will be, if anything.”
“I can do that. Um, do you think I can stay there? At the house?”
“Stay as in, for the night?”
“Uh, the weekend probably.”
“Oh. It should be okay, although if it rains the roof will leak, so you should be aware of that. And you shouldn’t use the private beach access, that’s pretty badly damaged and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Do you want me to sign the paperwork tonight or can I go?”
I’m exhausted. It’s not that late, but I’m just mentally drained. After everything that happened with Wyatt the other day, and forcing myself to come up here alone, I really just want to sleep.
I haven’t talked to Wyatt since the other day in the cemetery. I felt like it was best for us both to have a little space. But I miss him. I miss him more than I thought I would.
“Come back tomorrow morning,” Amanda says softly. “Go get some sleep.”
“Thanks.” I smile tightly. “See you in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wyatt
Isitinmydriveway and stare at the dark lights. Willa went back to her dorm, and Dad’s at work. And I have never felt the silence quite this much, or heard it this loudly.
I hate it.
I’ve come to realize there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. Before Lucy, I was perfectly content being alone, because even though I was alone I never really felt lonely.
But now, looking at the darkness inside that big house, the loneliness hits me like a truck. The house that I grew up in, the one that’s full of every memory of my mother and family, suddenly doesn’t feel like home.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and fight the urge to call Lucy. She’s probably at Oak Island by now, and even though it kills me that I’m not there with her, I know I made the right decision. So instead of hitting her contact photo, I press Alex’s instead.
“If you’re drunk right now I swear I’m going to find you and punch you in the face,” Alex huffs.
“I’m fully sober, douchebag,” I grunt.
“Good. What’s up?”
“Are you working tonight?”
“No, my shift starts tomorrow at eight. Why?”
“Do you mind if I stay over tonight?”
“You wanna have a sleepover?”
I roll my eyes, already backing out of the driveway.
