I need to get away.
I need to get out of here. I can’t stand here and listen to them dissect my life and what I finally thought was love like it was some mistake Luke needed to fix.
It hurts too much.
I have to go.
I turn, moving quickly now, needing to grab my bags and get as far away as I can before anyone sees me fall apart.
A hard knock sounds at the front door.
I freeze in the hallway outside the bedroom, one hand pressed to the wall.
Another knock comes, heavier this time, followed by the scrape of boots on the porch.
“I’ve got it,” Holt says.
I should keep moving. I should go straight to the bedroom, get my things, and leave while they’re distracted.
Instead, I stay exactly where I am. What if it’s Luke?
The front door opens, and a blast of cold air rolls through the cabin hard enough to make me shiver, even from down the hall.
“Road’s getting bad,” an unfamiliar voice says.
“Cal.” Holt sounds surprised. “You drove up in this?”
“Didn’t have much choice.” The man steps inside, bringing the storm with him. “I was already in town. Grabbed more diesel for the generators in case the storm gets worse. Thought you might need some.”
Cal.
The name catches in my mind, and I remember Luke saying it at the dinner table.
Cal still goes down there sometimes.
Enough that when he says the Rusty Nail is getting rougher, I listen.
I press myself closer to the wall, staying tucked back in the hallway where they can’t see me. I should go. I know I should. But something about hearing his name keeps me rooted to the spot. Besides, as long as he’s here, I’m trapped.
“How bad is it?” Tessa asks, joining them.
“Bad enough.” There’s the sound of him kicking snow off his boots. “Worse past the bend. Wind’s cutting across the open stretch hard enough to push a truck if you’re not paying attention.”
A chill moves through me that has nothing to do with the cold air creeping down the hallway.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Tessa says.
“You shouldn’t.”
There’s nothing dramatic in Cal’s voice. No warning for the sake of warning. He says it like a man giving facts, and somehow that makes it worse.
“Luke know you’re here?” Holt asks.
“No. Was going to stop on the way by to see if he needed fuel, too.”
“You haven’t talked to him today?”
A pause follows. Not long, but long enough for me to notice.
