Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,104
following day, after my next-to-last anger management class, I linger, waiting for Lana to finish talking to a couple other people. She’s helped me work through my anger, so I’m hoping she can help me with my newest issue.
“Tempest,” she says, walking up to me. “How are things going?”
“Good,” I sigh, nodding my head. “I mean, when it comes to the anger and self-control stuff… I’ve been doing much better.”
She smiles. “Good, that’s what I like to hear… and I just want to say, I’ve noticed a significant change in you. Next week is your last required session and I’ll be signing off on your completion letter back to the judge.”
“Thank you.”
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”
Feeling a little unsure, I consider just leaving, but Jenn’s words keep playing on repeat… don’t let him steal your future. What if Cage is my future? I don’t want to live with the regret of letting him go and never finding out. “This is probably going to sound crazy,” I start, hesitating for a moment. “But, how do I learn to trust myself again?”
“That’s a good question,” she assures me, setting me at ease with a thoughtful expression on her face. She’s been a great sounding board over the weeks I’ve been coming here. Getting a sentence to anger management classes was probably the best thing that’s happened to me… well, second best.
“I think the biggest thing is coming to the understanding that we’re all human and there is no one hundred percent guarantee that we won’t fail ourselves,” she finally says. “Or that other people won’t fail us. It’s going to happen, multiple times over the course of our lives.”
Sighing, she sits down in one of the chairs and pats the one beside her.
“And then,” she continues, “you’ve got to realize you’re stronger than you think and you can survive your mistakes.”
Now I’m sighing, but deep down, I know she’s right. Even after everything Asher put me through, I’m still here. And if I’m being honest with myself, I feel stronger now than I did eight months ago. I also feel so much more… me, like through the struggles and trials I’ve experienced, I’ve found myself.
“I know when you’re going through the pain… hurt, betrayal… it’s easy to be consumed by it. You think you’ll never recover, but then one day, you wake up and realize it doesn’t cut as deep… and you move on.”
I nod, giving her a small smile. “I think I’m ready for that,” I tell her… and myself.
She smiles, looking like a proud parent. “I think so, too.”
On my drive back to Green Valley, I decide to go straight to Cage’s once I get to town and apologize. It might not fix everything, but it’s definitely a step in the right direction. Besides apologizing, I just really, really need to see him.
It’s been almost a week since the reunion and even though I’ve been laying low—going to the bakery at ridiculous hours and straight back home after work—I thought I’d at least catch a glimpse of him… or he’d show up at the bakery after one of his early morning runs.
But he hasn’t.
I should be happy, right? I mean, he’s only doing what I asked him to do: not follow me.
But I’m not.
Driving down the main road, I slow when I approach Cage’s building, parking in the spot right in front of the window. From here, I can tell the downstairs is empty and all the lights are off, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not home.
Checking my phone, I see it’s not quite time for Cage to go to work, so I hop out and walk up to the door. I knock once and wait. When he doesn’t show, I walk over to the window and peak inside. The place looks locked up tight, but I decide to knock once more.
And then on the window.
Nothing.
As I walk back to the truck, I turn to look at the upstairs window, but there’s no movement… no lights on, at least not that I can tell. Maybe he’s at the store? Come to think of it, I need a few things, so I turn the truck around and head to the Piggly Wiggly.
Once I’m in the parking lot, I know right away Cage isn’t here. I would recognize his truck in the parking lot, and I’ve made two sweeps up and down each row. I’m thorough if nothing else.