“You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t tell him,” she says, picking up her coffee. “And I doubt Mom did either. She knows I don’t want things to be worse for you at work.”
“I can handle your father, Lot.”
“I know. But it’ll be a whole thing. Not worth it when I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Those words hang in the air. Thick and heavy. Her gaze drops to her paper cup before she adds, “Rayne’s taking me to the airport.”
“What?” My tone cracks with surprise and a punch of angst to my chest. “I thought I was taking you.”
“It’s better this way.”
“Better how?”
“A quick goodbye. Instead of dragging it out another night, and over a two-hour drive, I’d rather just get my stuff now, rip the Band-Aid off, and be done.”
My grip clamps around the steering wheel, strangling the leather. Nobody can piss me off like Lot. Even when she’s not trying to. “Sounds like you got the peel-and-go kind.”
Her eyes flash with irritation, and her voice spikes. “I’m just trying to make this as clean a break as possible.”
“It’s not clean,” I snap. “It’s fucking messy.”
“I know it is. Why do you want to make it messier?”
“Because for once, I’m not burying the shit. I’m trying to deal with it.”
That slows her anger. Rolls it to a stop. She draws a deep breath before her voice comes again, soft and sincere.
“I’m sorry. I’m… I’m just stressed out. Focusing on tasks instead of feelings. I didn’t mean to sound cold. That’s just how I cope… or pretend to.”
“I get that, Web.” I reach over and take her hand. “It’s what we both do. But I don’t want to pretend this time. I want us to be real. Can we do that?”
She pauses, then curls her fingers around mine. “Yeah, we can do that.”
We share a tentative smile. Wobbly footing, unfamiliar ground. But we’re still standing.
The rest of the drive is quiet. Two people working to make sense of something that doesn’t come with instructions. When I pull up to her mom’s, I look over at her.
“Want me to come in with you?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll text you later.”
I nod. I know her rhythm. I know she hates pressure. Too much, and she either blows or shuts down. I don’t want to cause either.
“I’m here if you need me.”
She leans across the console and presses a kiss to my lips. “Thanks, Jones, for being amazing. And for an unforgettable trip.”
Then she’s gone. Slipping out of the car and up the walkway with a small wave and that signature sway in her hips. I watch until she disappears into the house, feeling the pinch in my chest spread into something hollow.
Back home, I carry our bags inside. The quiet swallows me up. I’m not used to sitting in my feelings. Instead, I pour them into a mix, blending my old-school favorites with Lot’s, and share it on Spotify with her. Damn, like a parting gift.
I change into jogging gear and hit the waterfront hard. My playlist is blasting, but the thoughts are louder. Still, the movement helps. By the time I pull up to the café, I’ve burned off some of the edge.
It’s the afternoon lull. A few familiar customers sip their drinks inside the cozy warmth. Jamar is wiping down the espresso machine. I give him a two-finger salute. “Where’s the bossman?”
“In his office.” He inclines his head in that direction. “You want a Black Eye?”
