Hope flourishes inside of me, but still, it’s not loud enough to drown out the gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach. I hear a squeak at the other end of the aisle as I make it towardthe registers. The sound matches that of wet rubber boots on tile, only when I scan the area, no one is there. It’s just me, the quiet elevator-type music playing, and my own sneakers squeaking against the hard floor.
I stop in my tracks and listen intently, keeping my gaze in the direction where the sound came from and wait. Nothing comes.
I swivel toward the front of the store and make it to the one lone open register where a kid younger than me is scrolling through his phone. He sets it down when he sees me. “Hey, man. Would you like to add on a brownie?” He points to the end of the conveyor belt where there’s a square container of baked goods individually wrapped. “Goes to a good cause,” he adds in a tone that tells me he has no clue what the cause is.
“No, thanks,” I mumble, twisting around and scanning the area once more. “Hey, did you see if anyone came in after me?”
He scans my food then looks over at the entrance about fifty feet away. He has a direct line of sight to it. He’d notice if someone came or went. “Uh…” His gaze drops to his phone sitting atop the register and uses a finger to keep the screen from dimming. “Not sure.”
“Forget it.” I shake it off, pulling a ten out of my wallet and grabbing my change.
“Need a bag?”
“No,” I answer in a clipped tone, peeved the fuck out. Iheardsomeone behind me. I know I did, damnit.
It seems darker when I make it back outside. I don’t know how when it’s close to midnight, and the sun has been gone for a long while. My eyes track the parking lot, noting a beat-up Chevy in the employee parking section and my Ford Focus in the same spot I left it. My gaze snags on the now-empty spot where the other car parked, and a shiver works down my spine. Not because I’m scared but because I’m relieved.
My life has been a circus for months, and now I’m at the point where my paranoia wants to win out and convince me I’m being followed? I blame it on wondering what Tommy might do if he ever finds out about me throwing my match.
Fuck.
“No one is following you,” I mutter to myself as I get back into my car and toss my groceries on the passenger’s seat. I’ll eat as soon as I get back to the house, but first I rest back on the headrest and let out a sigh.
Finn’s and my business has been over for weeks, and while Clyde showed his true colors earlier, the reality is that he doesn’t want a thing to do with me. Once he gets Mom’s house in his hands, he’ll forget I even exist, having gotten the last thing he wanted from Janie Moore.
Which brings me right back to Tommy.
I threw his fight, but there’s no possible way he could have found out. The only people who know about it are me and Clyde. And Clyde wouldn’t go off and run his mouth when he hates the guy.Would he?
I run my tongue along my teeth and contemplate it for a minute.
For one fleeting second, this awful sensation trudges through my system. My neck breaks out in a sweat, and my hands turn clammy as I grip the steering wheel. I stretch my legs out and get comfortable enough to make the drive home.
“No,” I convince myself out loud in the space of my car. “It’s done and over with. He doesn’t know.” I scrub my hands over my face and try to relax my shoulders. “It’s all in my head. It has to be.Fuck. Why am I talking to myself about this?”
I jab my key into the ignition and twist it over, but then my phone vibrates from my back pocket. I manage to wiggle it free, seeing a call from some spam number. I tap ignore, but then my eyes snag on Violet’s name in my call log.
With a purple heart emoji before and after her name, I run my thumb over my screen. It's so simple yet causes a cacophony of emotion to swell in my chest.
Just fucking text her,the sorry-as-fuck version of myself taunts from inside my head.Tell her how much she means to you. Tell her youloveher.
I balk at that four-letter word.
Do IloveViolet?
How couldn’t I, is the better question.
Wrapped up in one glorious package, she’s everything I never thought I’d get in this lifetime. I don’t deserve her, and she deserves a man more than what I’m worth, but when I think about who I want to be, it’s her who I see standing beside me.
And if nothing else ever goes right in my life again, if I only had one wish left, I’d wish for her every goddamn time. Forever. Until the day I take my last waking breath.
I used to think I could get through this grief and all this bullshit on my own. That I’d be better for it. But I’m not. I’m nothing without her.
I spent weeks pushing her away, fighting, and ignoring the love I have in my heart and for what? To prove to myself that I can do something that most people can’t do on their own? I remember her saying that once, telling me how it’s normal to need support through the tough stuff. I didn’t want to hear it then, and I almost feel like a fool for coming to the same conclusion now on my own. One that shetriedtelling me, and I was too closed-off to hear.
I’ll never meet a girl as good as Violet. She’s my saving grace, my daisy in a field of sludge, my entire heart.
I don’t waste another second before tapping on her name and typing out a text. I need to make things right with her. I’ll get down on my knees and grovel if that’s what it takes to win her back. Because she’s worth it, and fuck, so amI.
