Page 123 of Waiting For Fate

Are you going to pull your head out of your ass and go take care of your girl or what?!?! She’s hurting Sawyer, where the FUCK are you?

Me

Taylor, don’t start. I’m losing my fucking mind not being with her right now. Where the fuck do you think I want to be? She made it clear she didn’t want to be my girl OR see me anymore. So I’m staying away like she asked, even though it’s killing me. That’s where the fuck I am, Tot.

Tot

We both know she’ll always be your girl. She’s just hurting right now, Moose.

Me

I know she is. And knowing I’m the reason for that hurt is the ONLY reason I’m staying away. Please make sure she’s okay. Okay? Can you do that for me?

Tot

I’ll do my best. I promise.

I love my house. When I moved back to Tennessee, I hoped that I would be here indefinitely, so I made sure to pick a place I would want to call home when I turn old and gray. I’d be lying if I said I picked aspects of this place that I thought Leah would love too. Like the porch swing where we could watch the sunset, the huge kitchen where we could host holidays or birthday parties, and the built-in bookshelves on every wall in the room she calls her mini library.

Called her mini library.

I bought this home with every intention of sharing it with her. Some may say it was foolish, and I might even believe them now. But I knew that was how it was meant to be.

I still know it, deep down.

But I also know it’s likely no longer a realistic dream. Because even though my heart still only beats for her, with every pump of life I ache. To see her, to be near her, to inhale her sweet scent and feel her soft skin on mine. To look into those calming green eyes and see that smile that lights up my entire damn life.

Things I’m beginning to accept will never happen again.

I toss the magnet down on the counter and run my hands through my hair, grabbing my shoes to take a walk.

When I reach my mailbox, I see my dad’s truck pulling onto the gravel road and my brows knit together.

“Hey Pop, what are you doing here?”

“At your house or in the state?” he laughs.

“Both, I guess.” I offer a small smile and he squints at me.

“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride back up to the house.” I open the door and place my mail on the dashboard, slamming the door behind me. “How you been, son?”

“Fine, Dad.” He nods but doesn’t say anything else. We ride back up to the house with nothing but the sound of gravel beneath his tires filling the truck. When we reach the circle drive, he parks the truck and cuts the engine.

“Is that so?” Here we go. “How’s Leah?”

“You’d have better luck finding that out from Tot, Dad.”

“She said she hasn’t spoken to Leah since Al’s funeral. Her phone has been off.” My heart starts to race with panic. Why the fuck didn’t she mention that when she text me? Has no one talked to her since the funeral?

“Maybe she’s with her mom.” I try to find an explanation that will end this conversation, so I don’t have the inclination to go bust down her front door and check on her.

“Loretta went to the campgrounds. I doubt Leah is with her there.” My heart squeezes so tight it feels like I can’t breathe, because all I want to do is call and see if she’s okay.

But her phone is off.

I could just go by her house and check on her.

She doesn’t want to see you; she probably wouldn’t even answer the door.