What’s worse is, I don’t think I can get away with following her this time because whiskey didn’t make her walk away.
Chapter Thirty
August
Leaveit to me to walk away from a good thing when I find it. I can’t look at a man’s life, someone who has everything falling into place for him and ruins it with my problems. He has more important things to be thinking about right now than my situation.
I didn’t sleep last night or the three nights before. It’s Wednesday, and already, it’s been the longest half a week ever.
Chance has been sending me daily text messages, trying to get me to talk to him. I don’t know which is worse, speaking to him or continuing to ignore his messages. I wish I could make him understand that he doesn’t need me to hinder his happiness.
My heart aches. It’s a different ache than what I have ever felt for Keegan. I genuinely miss Chance. I haven’t touched a drink since the last time I saw him, which is a good thing, but it doesn’t mean the thoughts are gone. I’m fighting the urge, and it’s one I’ve never felt before. Before Keegan took his life, the only thing I ever desired was to help people, so I don’t understand how it became so easy for me to become dependent on a drink. It was all such bad timing. I shouldn’t have let things escalate to the point they did with Chance. I caused this.
Cold turkey is the only way sometimes, though.
A knock on my open door distracts me for the moment. “Have a minute?” Leena asks.
“Of course,” I tell her, flipping my phone face down, hoping no messages come in while she’s in here.
Leena takes a seat in front of my desk, where the kids usually sit when I’m chatting with them. “Check your email,” Leena says.
I open my email and scan down the list until I see what she must be waiting for me to read. I click “read” and read every word.
“Oh no,” I tell her. “No, no.”
“I know. I was copied on the email.”
“Poor, Zooey.”
“She’s better off,” Leena says. “Her parents would have destroyed her life. We both know this.”
“There’s just no chance for her now,” I follow.
“With life in prison, they’re giving her a chance. You know this,” Leena says.
Leena has thicker skin than I do. In most cases, her heart doesn't seem to break into a million pieces the way mine does. Although, it’s possible she just hides it better.
“Is she going to be staying here with us?” I try not to get close to the kids for their sake, not mine. This home is temporary, and while it’s more permanent for some than others, most come and go within six to twelve months. Zooey has been with us for over a year, though, and she was two-and-a-half when she arrived. She doesn’t understand a whole lot, which is for the best.
“Not for long. She’s young, so they want to get her into foster care—give her a good chance, you know?”
“I know,” I tell her. I already assumed. I just needed to hear it aloud. Leena has been in this business a lot longer than I have, and while she’s the house manager here, she’s been involved with the system for years and knows more than I do.
With the older kids, we’d let them know what is happening with their parents, but less is more with Zooey being so young.
“Well, I just wanted to review the situation with you,” Leena says. “I’ll start gathering her things together, so when she moves, it will be easier.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I tell her.
Leena stands from the chair and leaves me to my empty office.
I turn my phone over, wishing I had someone I could call. As if he could hear my thoughts, Chance’s face pops up on my phone. He’s calling me this time, unlike the other times. He’s only messaged me over the last few days.
With hesitance and the weakness I feel by just looking at his face, I pick the phone up.
“Hi,” I say, sounding mousy.
“Aug—” he sniffles. “Hey, um, can you talk?”
