We go in for a quick kiss and I can’t believe any of this is happening. This man, this hunk of meat in the seat next to me, is giving me sweet little kisses just because. “Was I good enough today?” I hum.
“Ew, Dad, it’s hot in here, turn on the damn truck!” Brianna whines.
“Yeah, Dad,” Becca adds, “Quit flirting with Mom and get me some air.”
We all laugh and Jake starts the truck, resting his hand on my thigh with his fingers casually stroking the inside of my knee. I put my head on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to the top of it.
Bri puffs her lip out. “Fine. Y’all are cute.”
We bump down the gravel road and Bri and Becca chatter back and forth like they’re long lost best friends. Jake eyes me with a smirk. “Glad they get along.”
“Me too,” I say. I feel warm, and almost like it’s my birthday. My three current favorite people are in the truck, and the fourth is meeting us at the bar. I feel spoiled, surrounded by the people who get me.
A couple minutes after we hit the hard road?*, my phone buzzes.
And buzzes. And buzzes.
Rapid fire.
It’s normal for messages to pile up when I don’t have signal, then all come pouring in at once as soon as my phone connects with the outside world again.
“Ha, those are probably 40% me before I remembered you can’t see them,” Bri says.
My stomach is in knots because I don’t want to consider what the other 60% of the messages might be.
My family knows I’m on the farm and will call the house phone if they want to talk.
This isn’t my family.
It’s Rob.
I must have aggravated him by not responding anymore, and now he’s back with a vengeance.
I’m no longer leaning on Jake, instead sitting upright with every muscle tensed. Bri and Becca have gone quiet. Bri leans to try and see my phone screen.
“Everything okay?” Jake asks.
“Is it him?” Bri murmurs.
I nod, feeling like every bit of blood has drained from my face.
Bri takes my hand and pats my forearm.
“Does he know where you are?” Jake asks.
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
“Who?” Becca asks, having the sense to dim her bubbly mood.
“Her ex,” Bri mutters.
I open my messages and do a quick scan of the words.
Betrayed.
Irrational.
Hurtful.
