Page 476 of Summer Heat
I’m on my way.
Don’t come here, I text back while I’m still on the floor and I hope he can feel the anger that’s still there. I add, I don’t want you here.
It hurts me to tell him that. Partly because it’s a lie. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and I can already see myself forgiving him.
Addison please. Don’t shut me out.
It took us long enough to admit what we needed.
I miss you. I need you.
If you’re scared I need to be there.
With the fear and regret and everything else that’s tortured me today, I just want to give in to him after reading his rapid-fire texts. But I won’t.
I just need sleep, I reply and then add, Don’t come.
Please forgive me, he finally texts and I can’t respond right now, so I shut the phone off and
fall onto the bed. I don’t know how long I stare at the wall or at what point I decide I have enough energy to clean up the fallen picture, but I know it’s longer than I’d like.
The command tape is stuck to the wall this time. I swear I’ll never use it again.
Just like I’ll never let myself give in to Daniel again.
Some people you’re meant to miss.
They’re just no good for you.
I think the words, but I don’t know if I really feel them.
With that thought in mind I move to where the picture frame lays facedown on the ground and lift it carefully. Luckily there’s no broken glass.
I almost feel okay as I turn it over to inspect the frame.
But then I see the picture that fell. One I took myself, five years ago.
A still life of Tyler’s rusty old truck.
And that’s when I lose it all over again. I’m forced to come to terms with the fact that some wounds never heal. And they aren’t meant to be forgotten.
Chapter 24
Daniel
The phone rings and rings as I throw a zipped up bag into the corner with the rest of the luggage. I’ve packed light for years, but it’s never bothered me before.
Looking at the small pile that comprises everything I own, I’ve never felt so worthless. Or so tired. I didn’t sleep at all.
The phone goes silent and instead of calling Addison again, I scroll to Carter’s number and call him. I could easily text him to let him know I’m on my way, but I don’t want to. I want him to hear the defeat in my voice. And I need to talk to someone. Someone real. I’m losing everything, slowly feeling it drain from me.
I need someone. Desperately. I stayed awake outside Addison’s apartment all night. I had to make sure she was okay. But time doesn’t wait, and I had to pack … and now I have to leave.
It only rings twice before he picks up, greeting me with my name although it comes out as a question. And I know why he’d be confused to see I’m calling him.
I don’t call anyone ever. I don’t care to talk to him or any of my brothers, and they’re the only ones alive I love. My brothers and Addison.
“Do you miss him?” I ask Carter without prefacing my question. “Not like Mom and Dad, where we knew it was coming and it made sense.” Carter tries to talk on the other end of the line, but I keep going, pinching the bridge of my nose and sitting on the end of the bed. It protests with my weight. “The kind of missing someone where it feels better to pretend they’re coming back? The kind of missing where you talk to them like they can hear you and it makes you feel better?” I know why I don’t go home. It’s because he’s there in my head. I know what home is, and he’s there. I refuse to accept otherwise. I can’t.
