Page 36 of The Long Way Home
Then her phone buzzes against the table, shattering the quiet.
She glances at the screen, and I catch the faint furrow in her brow, the tight pull of her mouth. The change is immediate, and it’s one I know too well. She is bracing for a hit.
She hesitates, then answers. “Hey.”
Her voice comes out smooth, practiced. It’s higher and sweeter than it was a moment ago. What the hell is that? Why is she pretending to sound different?
She takes a few steps away, phone pressed tight to her ear, and I lean forward, every sense on alert.
“I told you, Ben. I was grabbing food with coworkers.” I watch the lie slip out of her mouth. “Yeah, just a quick bite after our shift wrapped.”
Of course, it’s Ben. I let myself forget she’s tied to that asshat, and now she is lying to him about where she is.
Her fingers clamp tighter around the phone.
“Yeah. We’re just getting food. I’ll be home soon.”
Her tone sharpens, clipped at the edges. The mask is slipping, no matter how hard she tries to hold it in place.
“I didn’t think I needed to check in with you every hour,” she adds. Her free hand presses to her forehead.
Hang up, Rach. Don’t give him another second.
“No, I didn’t think it’d be this late,” she says, flat now. “I’ll be home soon.”
A long pause stretches. She stands frozen. His voice is yanking her back by invisible strings.
Then, finally, she snaps—“I said I’ll be home soon.”
She cuts the call without a goodbye. Her shoulders are rigid. I watch as she tries to pull herself together.
I rise slowly, careful not to startle her. “Everything alright, Sunny?” The words sound hollow the second they leave me. We both know the answer.
It’s a dumb question. Of course, it’s not alright. But I can’t just come out and saywhat the hell was thatwithout throwing gasoline on a fire she is clearly trying to put out.
She turns fast, her smile already in place, rehearsed, but it’s all wrong. It doesn’t reach her eyes. She doesn’t have to pretend with me, so I don’t know why she is trying to.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
She is lying. To him. To me. To herself.
“You sure?” I keep my voice steady. “That didn’t sound fine.”
She waves me off and grabs her bag, trying to erase herself from the room. “It’s nothing. He gets weird sometimes. I shouldn’t have stayed this long anyway.”
I’m not sure weird is the word I’d use. He talks to her like she is a kid breaking curfew. She isn’t an object he owns. It crawls under my skin so fast I almost see red. This is my fault. I let things get to this point.
If I lose my cool, she’ll slam the door shut again. Lock it. Deadbolt it. I can’t risk that, not after all the progress we made tonight.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Sunny,” I say, softer than I feel. “Not when you’re upset. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”
“I’m okay, Rhett,” she cuts in gently. Her hand freezes on her purse, but she doesn’t look at me. She shakes her head barely, then mutters, “I should probably head out.”
I stop myself from reaching for her. Every part of me wants to pull her back. I want to bark out ‘Don’t go, stay, talk to me.’ But that would scare her off. I know it would.
She slips into her jacket, movements stiff, and I catch the tremor in her hands. She’s not leaving because she wants to. She’s leaving because she thinks she has to.
“Thanks for the pizza. And the beers. And the boxes,” she says quietly.
