“You know what I mean,” he said steadily, and reached out a hand to squeeze my shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Korbin. It may be difficult to work this job and have that life, but it’s possible. Don’t let it consume you.Fightfor your life outside of this station.”
Chief Davis’ words stayed with me for the rest of the shift. It was a slow day, and since I was only allowed on some medical calls and no fire calls, I spent most of the day catching up on paperwork. It was a boring job, and unfortunately it gave me far too much time to sit and dwell on the fight between Peyton and me. Twice I called her and three times I texted, but I received nothing in return.
I left the station at four o clock to stop by the clinic to confront Peyton face-to-face. I didn’t have any appointments today, but I knew she’d be there, and she wouldn’t be able to blow me off as easily now.
“She’s not here,” a young woman named Maggie told me, manning the front desk.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Did she go home early, or—?”
“No, she’s gone,” the woman named Maggie said, giving me a sympathetic look that I absolutely hated. “You’re Korbin Butler.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Did she say something about me?”
“Not really,” said Maggie. “But I assumed her leaving had something to do with you.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Home.”
Maggie didn’t have to elaborate on what that meant. I feared I already knew.
“Thanks,” I muttered, and turned to leave, stepping outside to suck in a large breath of fresh air. My head was spinning and I felt ill, like I might vomit all over the clean, damp asphalt parking lot.
I went to my truck and fired up the engine, then started to drive. My mind was numb, thoughts caught up in a landslide of what if’s and empty promises. I didn’t know where I was driving until I pulled up to my mother’s house and put the truck in park, staring at my childhood home, stomach rolling with nausea. My mother’s little car was there, so I knew she was home.
“Hello, son,” my mother said, opening the door for me as I approached the front porch steps. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Mom,” I said, and my voice caught, just a little bit, as I stepped into the house. My mother shut the door behind me and went to the living-room, giving me no choice but to follow her.
“I know why you’re here,” she said, taking a seat in her rocking chair. She waved a hand at the couch until I sat down, arms folded across my chest.
“How do you know?” I asked, and Nina smiled, shaking her head.
“This is a small town, son. I spoke with Susan.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right,” said Nina with a nod. “You blew it. Again.”
I leaned forward on the couch and studied my hands in front of me, wishing I could just disappear into a gaping hole of nothingness.
“It’s for her own good,” I said softly, but I wasn’t sure if I believed the words that trickled from my mouth.
“You don’t get to decide that,” Nina said, her tone taking on that motherly pitch that made me cringe. “You only get to decide what you want, Korbin, and not what she wants. You’re not protecting her. You’re denying her options.”
I sighed and looked away from my mother, focusing on the photos hanging on the wall instead. In one of the collage frames, a photo of Peyton and me was displayed. College. Our arms around each other. Happy.
“Are you calling me a selfish asshole?” I asked, only partially joking. Nina shook her head and pursed her lips at me.
“I was thinking jerk,” she said softly, and although the words stung, I knew she was right. I had been a jerk. A huge one.
“What do I do, Mom?”
“You fix this,” Nina said, leaning forward in her rocking chair to take my hand between hers. “You fix this by giving her a choice.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to compose myself. “I don’t know where she lives in Denver, Mom. We hadn’t been in touch since before she came home.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Nina said, releasing my hand. “So find it, son. Find your way.”
