“I don’t have the buyer’s address.” I admitted, hoping she’d let me off the hook,knowing she wouldn’t.
“Isn’t he a family friend of yours?” She opened the back of the truck.
Not getting off the hook.
“Yes, but he’s moved a few times in the last few years.”
She turned and smiled knowingly. “Why don’t you give him a call, and I’ll go find someone to help me carry this inside?”
I nodded and blew out a frustrated breath, because I’d returned Carter’s texts here and there, but we hadn’tspoken. In fact, I’d kind of been hiding from him since my birthday. The way he’d looked at me was just too damn hopeful. When I knew I was just going to let him down. Just like everybody else.
Maybe I could just flee the scene and never return? I could quit and just be done with it already. The thought sounded appealing until I realized I’d already reached my limit of lying around in my childhood bedroom, and I’ll admit, even I was surprised at that realization.
My hand trembled as my thumb hovered over his contact card, and I suddenly realized I needed privacy for this. So I wandered further away from the truck and leaned against a tree across the parking lot, sliding down to sit.
I closed my eyes. This was Carter. Of all people, he’d understand.
So I dialed, and as I lifted the phone to my ear, my insides immediately knotted up, and I wondered if I was going to puke.
He answered on the second ring, a little out of breath. “Sara?” I immediately couldn’t speak, a lump lodged itself in my throat, and silent tears streamed down my face instead.Fuckerson.
“Sara, are you there? Is something wrong?” There was noise in the background. He was probably busy, and I didn’t want to waste his time, but God, I just couldn’t get a word to form.
In my best effort to make my vocal cords do their job, I choked out an embarrassing, strangled sob.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” His calming voice filtered through the phone with immediate understanding.
I must have sounded like a serial killer, just breathing heavilyinto the phone, but Carter just started talking to me, slowly filling the silence. “I’m glad you called.” The sound of his voice wassocomforting. “I know this is hard, but you’re strong, Sara. So fucking strong, and I know things will never be the same without her?—”
He was right. They wouldn’t. I shook violently, crumpled over my knees and sobbed, hard and ugly, practically feral, not caring who saw.
I don’t know exactly what he said, or how long I stayed like that, but eventually my insides started unknotting and I let the soothing sound of his voice bring me back to reality.
“Where are you?” He finally asked.
I glanced across the parking lot and found my professor sitting on the bench outside the post office, patiently waiting for me. I hiccuped sharply, remembering why I’d called to begin with. “I-I’m in a parking lot.” I finally got out.
“What do you see?”
“What?”
Gently, “What do you see, sweet girl?”
“My uh, my professor.” I hiccuped again, wiping the snot running down my face with the back of my hand.
“Good.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “What can you feel?”
“Feel? Uh, gravel? I’m sitting on sharp-ass gravel.” I laughed and pulled in another deep breath.
He chuckled. “Sounds about right. I wish I was sitting on that sharp-ass gravel right next to you.”I really wished he was too.I took another deep breath. “Sara, tell me, what do you smell?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “Some kind of fried food and—car exhaust.” Each deep breath seemed to make the sun shine a little brighter and the world seem a little calmer.
“Attagirl.” He hummed. “I’m really proud of you.”
“I wish you were here.” My voice cracked, and I nearly started crying again.
“I wish I was there too.” He sighed. “More than you know—are you alright? Are you in a safe place?”
