Page 45 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

Chapter Fifteen

Jinnie

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I WAKE UP, AND THE first thing I do is reach for my phone to check for a message from Jack. But there’s nothing. No missed calls, no texts. It’s been a day. I can’t help but think this is going to be the first of many days I’m not going to hear from him.

He texted me a couple of days ago and let me know he was going to be in a writing room. He said he was struggling and had to focus. It has been seven days since Memphis. Seven days since Jack kissed me goodbye at the airport with promises of calling every night. We talked exactly once and that was only a couple of minutes when he was on his way to the studio. His texts have been sporadic and short. All that hope for a bright future disappears.

My alarm goes off. I set it just in case I don’t wake up, but it’s yet to be a problem. The room is still dark. I don’t have time to lie in bed and lament Jack’s absence. I have to work. He’s living in a penthouse and flying private jets around the country, but I’m still a girl who works at a bakery.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and shuffle to the bathroom, flipping on the light. My reflection stares back at me. I have dark circles under my eyes. I look like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and maybe I have.

This thing with Jack is up and down and sideways and every other way. It’s taking its toll. I turn on the hot water. It’s cold in the house but I’m not going to bother turning up the heat since I’ll be leaving in a few. I let the water beat down on me, trying to wash away the heaviness in my chest.

By the time I step out, steam fills the tiny bathroom. I wrap myself in a towel and stand in front of the mirror again, wiping away the fog with my hand. My hair drips onto my shoulders as I brush my teeth with more force than necessary.

I throw on my usual uniform—jeans and a hoodie—and pull my damp hair into a messy bun. Breakfast is a cup of coffee that I barely taste as I gulp it down standing at the counter. I dump Max’s food in his bowl. He winds around my legs as I grab my keys and head for the door. He meows pitifully and I almost feel bad. I didn’t give him the attention he’s used to.

The bakery’s industrial mixer whines as I dump in another cup of flour. The dough is too dry now—I lost count of how much I’ve added—but I keep mixing anyway, the mechanical whir drowning out the thoughts circling my brain.

He’s busy.

He’s forgetful.

He’s moved on.

“Jinnie?” Stephanie’s voice cuts through the noise. She reaches over and turns off the mixer. “Honey, you’re making bricks, not bread.”

I blink down at the stiff, pale lump in the bowl. “I can fix it.”

Stephanie peels my fingers off the mixer one by one. “Go home. It’s dead. I’m going to close early today.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

Stephanie laughs. “Of course, you are. I’m going to finish up and lock up. You may as well go home. Get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiles.

I clean up my mess and go home. Now, the house is cold. Thankfully, it’s so small it heats up quickly.

“Now what?” I ask Max, who has hopped into my lap. “Do I text him? He’s probably busy. I don’t want to bother him, but maybe he needs to hear from me.”

The cat is unbothered.

When I hear my phone ding with a text, I realize I left it on the table. I jump up so fast, Max falls to the floor. “Sorry!”

I grab my phone expecting to see a message from Jack. My heart drops when I realize it’s from Aunt Aggie. She’s invited me to dinner. My first thought is to decline the invitation. I feel like sulking.

Which is why I quickly reply that I’ll be there.

Moping around isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to make him text me. And it irritates me to think of him living his best life while I sit here waiting for him to throw me a bone.

I knock on Aunt Aggie’s door, my hands shoved deep in the pockets of my hoodie. The cold air bites at my cheeks. I can already smell the comforting scent of something savory wafting from inside. Aunt Aggie opens the door almost immediately, her warm smile instantly making me feel a little lighter.

“There you are,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “I was starting to think you’d stood me up.”