Luke runs a small construction company. Good work when he has it. Stressful when he doesn't.
"I'm sorry," I tell him.
"It'll work out. Always does." He takes a long drink of coffee. "You talked to Ethan lately?"
My chest tightens. "No. Why?"
"Just wondering. He's been weird on the phone. Distracted."
"Maybe the job's intense."
"Maybe." Luke studies me over the rim of his cup. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you mad at him about something?"
I focus on wiping the counter. "Why would I be mad at him?"
"I don't know. You both just seem off. Have been for weeks."
"We're fine."
"Callie."
I look up. Luke's expression is serious. Concerned.
"What's going on?" he asks.
Everything. Nothing. I'm in love with your best friend and he ran away because of you and I can't tell you any of it.
"Nothing," I say. "Just tired the shop's been busy."
Luke doesn't look convinced, but he lets it drop. He finishes his coffee and heads out. I watch him go and feel the guilt settle deeper.
The rest of the day passes slowly. Customers come and go. I smile and chat and box up orders. Normal routine. Normal life.
Everything feels wrong.
By closing time, I've made a decision.
I lock up the shop and go home. Pack a bag. Throw it in my car. Pull up the GPS on my phone.
Denver is twelve hours away.
I should call first, should text. I should do anything except what I'm actually doing.
I get on the highway and drive.
The miles pass in darkness. Radio playing stations I don't listen to. Rest stops for gas and bad coffee. My hands steady on the wheel even though my heart is racing.
Around two in the morning, doubt creeps in. What am I doing? Showing up unannounced in the middle of the night like some desperate ex-girlfriend. Except we're not exes. We're not anything.
That's the problem.
I keep driving.
The GPS leads me to a hotel on the edge of downtown Denver. Nice place. Expensive. Exactly where a tech consultant would stay for a corporate job.
