Page 65 of Chasing Smoke

This is how it goes—my mind cycling through a series of memories, worries, and projections into the future as I finish the dresser wall.

When that wall is done, I move to the opposite wall, which houses the nightstands and the bed. I’m going to have to slide the mattress and box spring off the bed and lean them against the one wall I haven’t tackled yet in order to move the bed frame, and I’ve been dreading it. For this part, I actually could have used Ansel’s help.

I tackle the nightstands first, so I remove the drawers from mine and set them in front of the dresser since I’ll be moving the mattress. After I’ve moved the nightstand out of the way, I go over to move Caleb’s.

The book he was reading when he passed away is still there, bookmark in place, along with some other personal items. I set them all on top of the dresser, then pull out the top drawer, the middle, and the bottom, placing them all out of the way. I lift the nightstand to move it, and something on the floor catches my eye. I still.

My stomach drops and shatters on the floor. At least that’s what it feels like.

A cell phone.

A cell phone that my husband was clearly trying to hide.

With shaking fingers, I abandon the nightstand and bend to pick up the phone. Once it’s in my hands, I sit on the bed, staring at it. Pressure builds in my throat and between my eyes.

Why would Caleb have a secret cell phone?

That’s the question running through my mind, but in my gut, I know the reason. I knew it weeks ago with that receipt from the hotel and most likely that diner receipt too. The answer is what I’ve been running from since I found that invoice in his office. Back then, I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t ready to confirm my fear. Now, I need to know.

But I can’t do it alone.

I could call Nina, but there’s only one person I want by my side, and it’s another person who knew Caleb as well as I did—or thought I did, I suppose. So I set down the phone, then go grab my own and punch out a message.

Me

Would you be able to come to my place when you’re done? I need you.

And I do. It’s not as if I wasn’t aware of how much Ansel has supported me over the past couple of months, but it’s only now that I realize how much I’ve truly come to want him at my side.

TWENTY-NINE

Ansel

Ineed you.

I need you.

I need you.

Those three words on my screen repeat in my head over and over and over as I drive as fast as I can over to Collins’s place. My back wheels skid out from under me, and I’m forced to slow down. It’s starting to snow, even though we’re approaching the end of winter.

Those three words were just typed letters on a screen, but I could feel the desperation in them. I’m not sure if something happened or whether maybe Collins is just finding it harder to change over the primary bedroom to her own space, but something is wrong. And if I had to guess, I’d say it’s very wrong, because Collins has made it clear that she needs distance from me, but here she is, telling me to come over because she needs me.

I’d planned to reach out to her and see if I could swing by anyway when I was done because I want to tell her about the potential of a job offer in Portland. I can’t exactly put her on the spot and ask her how serious she sees this thing between us becoming, not this early on, especially when we haven’t even had time to see what this is. But at the same time, I don’t like feeling as though I’m keeping something from her. I want her to know I’m interviewing for the job, even if I’m not one hundred percent sure I want the job.

The sun is setting by the time I pull into the driveway. I jump out of my truck and bound up the steps. I don’t bother knocking and waiting for Collins to answer. I barge in and shout her name.

“Up here,” she calls.

I quickly take my boots off, almost falling, and take the stairs two at a time.

The primary bedroom is the only room with a light on, so I head in that direction. When I reach the doorframe, Collins is pacing the room, a deep line between her brows, biting her lower lip. Her hands lay over her stomach as though she were nauseous.

“What happened?”

She looks up at me with unshed tears filling her eyes. “I found a phone.”

I don’t know what that means, but the pained look on her face does me in. I eat up the distance between us in a few strides and pull her into my arms. She clutches my coat for dear life while I rub her back in soothing strokes.