Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need to go do things.”
“What?” My voice catches in my throat and it takes me a few seconds to recover. “What things?”
“I just need this to stop. I have to go for a jog. There’s a lake I like to jog to and I want to go before it rains. I should do about ten miles.”
I pull the phone away and stare at it, then put it back to my ear. “What are you talking about? It’s late.” He’s three hours behind me, making it ten p.m. there, which is late to go for a ten-mile jog around a lake.
Isn’t it?
“It doesn’t matter what time it is, Piper. I just want to jog.”
I let out a massive sigh of mental exhaustion and close my eyes for a full five seconds. His erratic mood swing is confusing me, and I don’t want to fight with him, especially when things have been so perfect. I need this to stop, too. I’m not going to go for a jog, but I’m definitely going to go to bed and hope for a better tomorrow.
“Okay,” I say. “Do what you need to do, then. It’s late and I have to work in the morning.”
Questions sit at the tip of my tongue, but I suck them back. I won’t ask him if he’s started doing drugs again. I won’t make him feel like I’m doubting him.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Click.
Did he just hang up?
Without saying goodbye or I love you?
He did.
Crying, I sit on the edge of my bed and cover my face with my hands. I’m tempted to pick up the phone and call him back and somehow undo what just happened and go back to happiness and normalcy. Past experience has taught me that if I force him to talk, he will just put walls up, though, and that’s the last thing I want to do. He’ll end up walking fifty miles tonight and end up God-knows-where.
A scratching sound breaks through the sound of my own sobs. Acorn is pawing at the bed.
Smiling weakly, I pat the bed next to me. “Come on up, pupper. We’ll go to sleep.”
He whimpers and rests his chin on the mattress, lifting one paw up.
“Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s go to bed.”
He whimpers again, lifts one front paw, then puts it back on the floor, then lifts the other paw, only to put it back down. His big brown eyes stare up at me and I realize he can’t jump up. Frowning, I bend down and gently lift him onto the bed, and I curl up next to him, my face close to his, nose to nose. I stroke the soft fur of his forehead and watch his eyes close as he falls asleep. So many times this dog has comforted me, kept me warm when I shivered in the shed, kept me company on my loneliest days. People should be more like dogs—with unwavering and unconditional love no matter what. Always happy to see us, always grateful to be with us, never hurting us.
Tomorrow I’ll ask Josh to build a ramp next to the bed for Acorn, and Blue can screw himself if he doesn’t like it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Two days.
Forty-eight hours.
Give or take a few hours, minutes, and seconds.
That’s how long it’s been since I heard from Blue. That might not seem like a long time to some, but it is after talking to him for hours every single night. That time with him has become an incredibly bright spot in the day, something I need to help me get through the day like a morning coffee.
I called him once, and emailed him twice—with no answer from either, and I can’t even describe how upsetting that was. I’ve picked up the phone to call him again at least fifty times, and I’ve chewed my fingernails to stubs debating whether I should call Reece to see if Blue’s okay.
But I don’t want to be that girl.
I’ve been that girl in various degrees for the past few years and I swore I’d never let myself be that crying, speed-dialing, crazy-ass message-leaving person again.
It is so very hard, though, to miss someone—to ache for them emotionally and physically. Blue has turned me into just as much an addict as he is.
Unfortunately, there’s no rehab program for love. Ditra has urged me a million times to date, have sex with other men, and hopefully fall in love with someone else. But to me, that’s a rebound. Or a distraction. I can’t get involved with another guy hoping I’ll love him more, want to be with him more, and will eventually get over Blue. What if I never get over him? That wouldn’t be fair to anyone. I’ve always chosen to just be alone, keep myself as busy as possible, be the best mother I can, and try to put him out of my mind.