Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,45
than he could’ve ever imagined, and he hadn’t even gotten to speak to his ex. What if he blamed Wood too? What if his life was in shambles because of him?
“That’s why you came here? You’re trying to ease your guilty conscience.” The man laughed harshly. “Leave my wife’s grave. You’re not welcome here. If you come back, I’ll call your parole officer faster than you can mutter the word alcoholic.”
Wood clenched his jaw together to avoid arguing or trying to plead his case. This man deserved his anger, and his bitter words were more than justified. Look at what Wood had stolen from him. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a drawing of a woman standing in a field of wildflowers in a sundress with the breeze lifting one side of her long hair. He’d drawn it with a charcoal pencil, but he hoped she could envision the colors he saw when he thought of her. It would’ve been nice to buy some real flowers, but unfortunately he didn’t realize how much roses cost these days.
“Can I just… can I just leave this here? I drew it for her,” Wood said around the boulder lodged in his throat. He bent to place it on the ground, but Mr. Dulenaka stopped him.
“No. She wants nothing from you.” He glared up into Wood’s eyes, and he felt too meaningless to stare back. “She wanted to be a mom more than anything. To raise a little girl.” He rubbed his trembling hand over the top of the pale gray tombstone as he whispered brokenly. “You ruined our lives, Herschel Wood Jr. And now you get to go on and live yours as if nothing ever happened.”
Wood didn’t tell him how wrong he was.
“Go. If you have an ounce of decency left in you, leave now, please.” Mr. Dulenaka continued to caress his wife’s headstone as Wood crumbled the sketch in his hand and walked away.
He didn’t think he had enough energy to make it back to the bus stop, so he pulled out his cell phone. He hadn’t realized he had more tears on his cheeks until he scrubbed his hand up and down his face. He was completely numb all over, as if his body was shutting down on him. He needed help. He was about to call Bishop, but he didn’t want him to see him right now, not like this. Not so defeated. Brody either. He scrolled down his minimal list of contacts and pressed Trent’s name without thinking.
Trent had seemed upset when he left that morning, but Wood was sure he’d answer his call. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk on the darkening street and gaped at his phone screen as if he was in a daze. His hands shook so badly he barely managed to dial again after getting the automated voicemail a second time. Trent had to be off work by now, at home about to shower and eat dinner. He’d be so grateful if his roommate could come and give him a ride just this once, so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts on the crowded bus for another hour. Wood got Trent’s voicemail again and decided to text him when one came through from Trent first.
I’m busy. Won’t be home tonight.
Wood didn’t know how long he stared at the screen before he slowly tucked it back into his pocket. When he glanced up to see how far down the street he had to go to get to the bus stop, he noticed an alcohol and beverages store on his way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trent
“Trent, you know you’re like the tenth most important person to me in the whole world, right?” Summer smiled at him through her vanity mirror as he lay sprawled across her king-sized bed. “But sweetie, you have got to go. Lakeisha will be home any minute, and I have a surprise waiting for her.”
Trent propped his head in his hand and watched as his best friend continued to put a ton of spiral curls in her long blonde hair with some weird-looking iron. He shook his head. “I thought you said you were staying in tonight.”
“I am.” She grinned, primping each strand. “I want to look perfect for our stay-in date. My baby has worked forty-eight hours straight at that damn fire station, and when she gets home, I’m gonna make sure she relaxes and gets a double serving of everything she loves. Lobster, key lime pie, and me.”