Page 75 of Corrupt Me

I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Hello.” The warmness in the single word washed through me, thawing the ice that had begun to crawl in my veins.

“Anna,” I said softly, fighting back a well of tears. I didn’t want to cry. If I started sobbing, I would have to pull over, and I wanted to get back to campus as quickly as possible. No pit stops. No pity parties. No sobbing sessions. No falling apart on the side of the road.

“Oh, Everly, dear. It’s so good to hear your voice. I was just sitting on the porch thinking about you. I’m so glad you called. The boys rarely do when they’re away. How have you been?” She rambled, but I didn’t mind. In fact, it was the reason I called her. She would fill the long drive with her friendly chatter.

“I’ve had better days,” I admitted, having no reason to sugarcoat my feelings. Anna wouldn’t push for details I didn’t want to give, but she would be a caring, motherly figure if I needed it.

“Hmm. I thought I heard something in your voice. Are you having a tough time at school?” she asked.

I thought about Preston and the pregnant girl in his dorm. How would Anna take the news she would be a grandma? After the initial shock, she would embrace the new role and the mother-to-be. It was Anna’s nature. Blaine, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so sympathetic to his son’s choices. I hadn’t thought of it before, but this girl Preston impregnated would be a part of all the Malones’ lives, which meant I would have to see her if my relationship with Blaine and Anna continued.

I hated thinking about not having them in my life. “Maybe a little,” I said, particularly if I included Tristan as part of my FSU experience.

“It’s perfectly normal to be homesick. I remember my first year of college.” Her tone took on a wistful note. Something like wood creaked in the background. The old rocking chair she loved to sit on I imagined. “I’d never been more scared. I can’t tell you how many times I called my parents begging to come home, but as cliché as it sounds, things did get better. If I hadn’t stuck it out, I wouldn’t have met your mom.”

I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat. My mom’s relationship with Anna often reminded me of mine with Sam. They’d been best friends, making what happened between her sons and me so much harder.

“This is the first time you’ve really been on your own, Everly. It’s okay to be scared.”

“Do you think my mom was afraid?” I asked. There could be so many situations this question could be applied to, but Anna seemed to understand I was looking for a connection to feel close to the mother I’d lost.

“We all have our fears. Your mom was no exception, but she would be so proud of you. I know I am.” Through the phone, I heard the rolling of waves, and a whip of longing tore through me. It would only take a single turn of my car to steer it toward home.

I took a deep breath, my fingers tight on the wheel as I kept the car moving straight down the road. “Thanks, Anna. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime. Seriously. Anytime,” she repeated with a soft laugh. “I literally sit by the phone waiting for someone to call. You can’t imagine how empty the place feels with all of you gone.”

I realized Anna was having struggles of her own. This was the first time she was an empty nester. I could sympathize with the loneliness. I wondered if she felt less needed with no one home. “How are you? Soaking up all your me time at the spa? Racking up Blaine’s credit card?”

She laughed fully this time, and it was like a hug of sunshine bursting through the phone. “You know me well. Have you talked to Preston?”

Alarm bells went off in my head. This was a conversation I wanted to avoid and why I shouldn’t be talking to Anna.

It crossed my mind to tell her what transpired between her son and me, but I really believed she needed to hear it from Preston. He would have to find the balls to tell his parents sometime. And truthfully, I wasn’t ready for my relationship with Anna and Blaine to change. Not yet. Not when I felt so unsteady. Selfish? Probably, but no more selfish than Preston had been or was being for that matter, but Anna was the closest thing I had to a mom, and the urge to lean on her, to cry on her shoulders, burned within me.

“We’ve both been super busy,” I replied, trying to keep my voice level. It was as much of the truth as I could give her and a reminder I should end the call before my resolve weakened and I said more than I should. It wouldn’t take much prodding for the confession to tumble out of me like verbal diarrhea of the mouth.

“You’ll be coming home for the holidays soon. We’ll all be able to catch up then.”

Shit! Thanksgiving. And then Christmas.

It wasn’t that far away. Just weeks, time slipping through the hourglass.

Last year, the holidays had been the worst of my life. There had been nothing joyous or festive in them. I barely remembered the days following Christmas, and it was a grim path I didn’t want to travel. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about the holidays.

Apprehension sat like lead weight in my chest. “I was possibly thinking of seeing my dad,” I lied through my teeth. I’d rather spend the time alone or eat a bowl of glass.

“Oh. Of course,” she said, sounding a bit taken aback that I wouldn’t be spending it with her family. “That will be nice for both of you. Your father misses you.”

I nearly laughed but stamped it down before the bubble of sarcasm could sneak its way out. I had to disconnect. “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m getting another call I need to take. I promise to call you soon.” The excuse rolled like sandpaper off my tongue.

“Of course. I’m here anytime.” I hated the disappointment in her voice.

We hung up, and I cranked the radio to drown out the buzzing vibrating in my head. I could feel the workings of a headache rising from the base of my skull as I stared at the road ahead. I still had two hours to go.

When I finally arrived at Thorn Hall, I half expected to see Tristan’s Mustang parked out front. It wasn’t there, but unfortunately, the weird snag in my gut was when it absolutely had no right to feel anything. Let alone beads of disappointment.

---