and make my way out of the stall to the sinks. The lighting is bad, and the sinks are disgusting, but let me tell you, I put both of them to shame.
Dark circles mar the skin under my eyes, and red-bloodshot lines ruin the white sheen of my corneas—or whatever that part of my eye is. I’m not an ophthalmologist, so I can’t say for sure.
But I don’t need a medical degree to see the truth: I look like a woman who’s been through it—not like the professional reporter I should.
Quickly, I wet a paper towel under the faucet and put the cool paper to my forehead. It’s soothing to my hot skin, and I can’t seem to get enough. I wet the paper again, bringing it to my forehead again, but this time rubbing it around the entire surface of my face.
“You’re a strong woman, Holley,” I peptalk in the mirror. “Get your shit together, go out there, and write some damn notes to help with this damn article.”
I laugh to myself. I can order seventy-five pounds of Chinese food and gorge on it when I get home.
In fact, that sounds like a plan.
Decided, I finish up with my face, wash my hands, and make my way back out of the bathroom and over to the lane where I know I’ve left Jake and Lucy. Their scores are still on the board, but neither of them is anywhere that I can see. I scan the snack counter and the front desk, but in the end, I find nothing.
Is it really possible they just left? Together? Already?
I feel physically sick to my stomach, like the acid within has turned into the stormy seas on that fishing show Deadliest Catch.
I run back for the bathroom, making it into the stall just in time. I’ve never found myself in an emotional hollow so low—not even when I found out about Raleigh.
It’s ironic, really. I dated Raleigh for well over a decade and he cheated on me for over a year, but getting attached to Jake—and sleeping with him last night—while he’s in the middle of trying to find love with someone else makes me feel like so much more of a fool.
I sink down onto my knees on the bathroom floor and allow the tears to flow. My hands shake and my heart hammers.
I’m scared…scared to fall in love with someone only to have it all fall apart again.
I just didn’t realize until now that the alternative is even scarier.
Did I just let the best guy I’ve ever met slip through my hands on purpose?
Jake
I slam the garage door behind me and toss my keys onto the counter with no finesse whatsoever. Then, I grab a beer from the refrigerator and put it to my lips and take a swig.
It’s only noon on Tuesday, and already, I’m fucking done. I’m done with the day, done with the week, just about done with the year, for that matter.
Matt was so unimpressed with my mood, he made me walk off my own job.
“Fucking ridiculous,” I say to myself, reliving it again. Nothing was going right, and the quality of work was shitty at best. I have a right to voice my displeasure to whomever I goddamn please until they get it right.
Yeah. But is that really what has you so angry? my mind taunts annoyingly, and I slam back another slug of beer to shut it up.
I grab my phone furiously and type out a message.
Me: You around to get a beer? Need to talk.
Garrett answers almost immediately, but it is the absolute last thing I want to hear.
Garrett: Sorry, dude. Beard’s gone again. ☹ On a chopper on my way up north. I should be back in a week if we get this thing under control. Meet then?
I chuck my phone at the counter and growl. “Fuck!”
“Dad?” Chloe asks from the other side of the island. I swing my gaze up and around to look at her, and she’s watching me and my very poorly concealed rage with wide eyes.
I can’t entirely blame her. I don’t know that she’s ever seen me like this. Hell, I don’t know that I’ve ever been like this before.
“What, Chlo?” I ask, trying not to be short with her and failing miserably. That, of course, only makes my mood that much worse. I’m not the kind of guy who takes his shit out on every innocent bystander he encounters—I don’t want to be that guy. Right now,