Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
"Trust me, I know," I huff out. "It’s a six hour road trip."
"You drove?" he gasps. "What is wrong with you?”
"I had time to spare,” I lie to him and he laughs.
"No, you didn’t. You took your car because if she told you to fuck off, you could lick your wounds all by yourself for six hours." He laughs and I hate that he knows me as well as he does.
"It was eight with traffic," I say, and he just laughs louder. "I’m hanging up."
"I’ll come and see you tomorrow," he says and I hang up the phone. I spend six hours driving back to my house, and when I get into the driveway, it’s night out.
I grab my bag and walk up the steps, the whole time I miss Harlow like I’ve never missed her before. Every single step feels heavier than the last, and when I unlock my door and step inside, I stop in my tracks. The boxes are all gone. I put the bag down and walk into the kitchen and look around to see it empty. A white paper sits on the counter with my name on the top.
I sit on the stool and read it.
Travis,
Sorry we weren’t the right person for each other.
All the best,
Jennifer
I shake my head and put the paper down and wait for it. I wait for some little twinge of regret. I wait for some little pain that she isn’t in my life anymore. I wait for anything but instead I get nothing.
I take my phone out and call Harlow, a smile fills my face knowing I’m going to hear her voice, but instead of her saying hello, it goes straight to voice mail.
"You better not have blocked me," I say into the phone nervously, trying to calm myself down. "Call me back."
Chapter 22
Harlow
I listen to the voice mail and laugh when I hear his voice. "You better not have blocked me." He laughs nervously and I look over at the clock, seeing it’s a little after 1:00 a.m. "Call me back."
Walking into the house, I head straight to the kitchen and wash my hands. Grabbing a bottle of water, I send him a text instead of calling him.
Me: Sorry, had an emergency. Just got home, call you in the morning.
I walk back to my room and strip off my clothes, turning on the water in the shower, I step in. I’m so freaking tired and my back hurts from bending over for the last four hours. Closing my eyes, I put my head forward for a couple of minutes. I’m grabbing a towel when my phone rings and I groan out loud thinking it’s another emergency, but I smile when I see that it’s Travis and he’s FaceTiming me. I press the green button and walk to the bed, sliding in on his side. His scent fills me all around and the little pang in my chest is just enough for me to feel it.
His face comes onto the screen and I see that he’s in bed and I miss him. "Did I wake you?" I ask, putting my head down on the pillow, wishing he was here with me.
"I thought you blocked me again," he mumbles and I can’t help but laugh at him.
"You know where I live," I remind him. "So there really is no use in blocking you." I look at him. "How was the drive home?"
"Long," he says, and I see that he’s not wearing a shirt. "Where were you all night?"
"A coyote got through the fence and a calf was stuck fighting him off," I say, closing my eyes.
"How is the calf?" he asks softly.
"Forty-seven stitches on one leg," I say. "And lost a chunk of his shoulder but I think he’ll be fine."
"Ouch," he says, hissing out.
"I wish you were here," I admit to him, even though I said I wasn’t going to. Watching him drive away from me was torture. I kept repeating to myself over and over again. It’s fine, I’ll see him soon. But it was as if my heart didn’t believe what my head was telling it.
"I wish you were here," he says and his eyes close a bit. "When is your next day off?"
"I’m on call this weekend," I say. "I think I can perhaps get off the week after next." He groans.
"What about you?" I ask and he gets on his stomach.
"I’m on call for the next two weekends," he huffs. "That’s fourteen days."
"Is that what two weeks means in the city?" I joke with him and he just glares at me. "I’m going to go in tomorrow and check." My voice goes soft. "Does that make you feel better?”
"No," he pouts. "It would be better if you were here."
"Now let’s say I was there," I start. "What would I be wearing?" I wiggle my eyebrows and for the rest of the call I show him my magic wand that I keep by the bed.