Page 93 of Unravel Me

How we got here.

I’m frozen in my car as memories from the first night I met Rhett come rushing back to me. It feels like a distant memory now. He might have thought he was just being polite, but now all these months later, I can see that night for what it truly was.

He saved me, but I don’t think he knows that.

Maybe that’s only just for me to know, but that makes it hurt worse. Because I never got to thank him properly. Thank him for being the first man in my life to see me for me; not for my family’s name or the number in my bank account.

Just then, a clumsy dog comes barreling around the corner, her ears flapping wildly as she rushes toward the car, pulling me from my cloudy thoughts.

“Mabel!” I yell, leaping out of the car as fast as I can to greet my sweet girl. She whimpers and curls around my bare legs, her body wiggling with uncontained excitement. She eventually succumbs to rolling over, exposing her belly. I kneel in the gravel, pushing my fingers into her warm, brown fur.

“I missed you so much.” Her heart thuds under my palm, and as I reach behind me and snatch the treat container out of the car, she hops up, nose in the air.

“You didn’t think I'd show up empty handed, did you?” I pull a freshly baked treat out, and Mabel sits and gently takes it from me, galloping to the backdoor where she eats it in two bites. My eyes follow her to the paper grocery bag sitting on the steps.

Penny’s boots.

There’s no truck to be seen, only Mabel, manning the house all by herself. As I walk over, Mabel comes back to me, butt wiggling, and I place a hand on her head, scanning the backdoor.

“He did not,” I mumble in disbelief, eyeing the dog door. The expensive one I picked. Tears prick at my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away.

“Men are unbelievable.” Grumbling, I grab the boots from the steps but pause when I see the treat container in my hands. I can’t leave it outside; Mabel will find a way to get to it, even if I set it on the table. I glance at her, her gaze fixed on me and wonder if I could just put it in the kitchen instead.

But it’s not my house. It’s not my home to come and go as I please. Even if I had wanted it to be, even if I had silently said in my head this was home.

Now I see how careless that was of me.

Mabel pushes by me, effortlessly going through the doggy door. Little show-off. I smirk, conflicting feelings clouding me. Rhett installed the door. That means life went on without me here. And of course, I knew it had.

I have to go inside, though. For Mabel.

Just set the treats down and leave. It’ll be tempting to take some of my things, but I didn’t bring anything to pack them in and doing that would only betray his trust again. Something I’ve already done enough of. If I want to hold onto any hope for the future, I need to start rebuilding now.

Pushing my weight into the door, which always sticks, I silently thank Rhett for leaving it unlocked. The overcast skies outside darken the small kitchen, and it’s quiet enough that I can hear my heart thudding in my chest.

The sound of the ceiling fan whirling in Rhett’s bedroom draws my attention to the cracked open door, but I refuse to step closer to it. I also try to ignore the lingering smell of cedar and musk that flooded me the moment I stepped inside.

“I hope you’re taking care of yourself,” I whisper, surprised by the tightness in my throat. Tears well in my eyes, so I quickly cleared my throat, and set the treat container down towards the back of the counter with purpose. Before I can second guess myself, I leave, slamming the door behind me. I snatch Penny’s boots as a misty drizzle meets me, and my focus narrows as I pull my sleeves over my hands and hurry toward the car, rain speckling my skin. Then I hear a sudden whoosh, and when I turn, Mabel is running, trying to catch up to me.

I stop as she does, glancing at the gray storm clouds looming over us.

“I have to go, girl.” Every word hurts to say as I look into her deep, honey eyes. “You be good, okay?” I bite my quivering lips and bend over, kissing the top of her head. Thunderclaps sound in the distance and she lets out a startled howl. “Go back inside Mabel, go on now.” I try to nudge her back to the house, but she plants herself in the driveway at my feet.

She has the dog door now and will go back inside to safety, but if I don’t leave, I know I’ll be pulled back in. Staying isn’t an option—it never was.

Scurrying to my car as rain releases from the cloud above, I toss the boots into the backseat and start the car with my heart in my throat. Mabel continues to howl, watching me through the front window. I punch the gas and spin the car around, speeding down the long driveway. Through my blurry eyes, I catch movement in the rearview mirror. The white house shrinks in the distance as Mabel trots after me, her pace quickening, faster and faster, chasing my car as I drive away.

“No, no, no! Dammit, Mabel,” I plead inside the car, my heart cracking in two. The tears fall faster than I can whisk them away, my chest heaving with sobs as I continue to turn onto the street. Mabel stands at the edge of the property, howling for me to come back.

White-knuckling the steering wheel, I drive away, feeling myself unravel with every mile that separates us.

Chapter fifty-two

Audrey

Instead of turning onto the highway to head back into the city, I make a right at the stop sign, and head into downtown Roseville. I need comfort—of any sort—and I know where to get it.

Rain soaks the sidewalk, but inside the diner is quiet, the booths full of mostly older folks, who all look at me as the door chimes. It’s weird to be here without Rhett, but he doesn’t own this town. Or the booth.