Page 218 of The Last Good Man

Swallowing back my disappointment, I grab my purse, phone, and apartment keys and exit my place.

MELODY

I don’t have a set plan.

I just need to leave Manhattan and drive aimlessly for a while.

The weather is perfect, with a blue sky, crisp air, and trees about to get new leaves. I initially head to Long Island before reaching Great Neck, changing my mind, and driving to Queens.

My hair is pulled tight into a ponytail, and my sunglasses, T-shirt, flat shoes, and capri pants conceal most of me, and hopefully, my identity.

Unless someone is on my tail, which I doubt it, no one knows this is me.I’ve driven for more than an hour and no one has followed me, so when I roll my car down Jax’s street, I’mconfident this is working.

You can tell it’s Saturday asnot manypeople are on the street.

Not far from here, a commercial area with stores and restaurants attracts plenty of people on the weekends.

Ifnot, they’re in their backyards or at the park.The temperature is pleasant enough to spend time outside.

I roll my ride to a stop under a tree, my eyes trained on Jax’s place. I turn off the engine and move my eyes to the driveway.

The place is well-kept andclean, and the shutters are down.He’snot home. I didn’t expect him to be here. I just wanted to pass through his space, gather more clues, and bask in his other life.

This is a nice place in Queens—quiet, homey, wonderful. I look down at my phone. The other address is not far from here. Reluctantly, I turn on the engine and swerve away, sliding past his driveway before making a left turn and leaving his place behind.

Minutes later, I enter a different street with more pedestrians. Moms pushing strollers, couples walking their dogs, and kids on bicycles moving up and down the sidewalks under their parents’ eyes.

I notice the house I’m looking for.

It’s small and cozy, an assortment of balloons fluttering in the breeze. The words painted across them clue me in.

It’s his sister’s birthday.

A car pulls up in front of the house, and teenagers climb out. I steer my ride and halt under a tree, hoping to remain unnoticed.

More vehicles arrive, voices drifting from behind the house.

I spot Rylee at the top of the stairs. She wears a white T-shirt, a blue sweater, jeans, and pinksportsshoes. Her hair is long and curly, and her eyes sparkle with life.

She greets her friends and collects her gifts with the help of her mother.

I witness everything with a kernel of envy.

Except for holidays, my sister and I rarely spend time with my parents or each other.She has a family, and I have a job––I’ve always said to myself.

Seemingly, I’ve lost more than the opportunity to have a life outside my job. I’ve also lost the opportunity to have a tight-knit family.

I feed on the scenes in front of me, something telling me Jax can’t be far. He’s either in the house or about to show up. There’s no way he’ll be a no-show.

It’s a big, loud party with flowers and balloons, teenagers and adults.

My heartskip beatswhen a dark sports car with racing stripes inches closer to the house coming from the other end of the street.

I’m losing it a little.

My heart is racing, butterflies swirling in my stomach, and sweat coating my palms.

My sunglasses slide from the sweat and I tip them down even moretosee them better.

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