Page 9 of Your Soul to Keep

What did you think? He’d want to pick up where you left off? You left him with no explanation.

But we were just kids.

I closed my eyes and shook my head but the voice inside continued to berate me.

You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say you were just kids on one hand and wonder why he didn’t ask for your number on the other.

The house phone rang, its shrill trill throwing open a door to the past.

In a flash, I was seventeen again, curled into a ball on my bed while Nan sat beside me, brushing my hair away from my face for hours without a word.

Day after day, I lay with tears streaming down my face, the coiled cord of the handset clenched in my fist as I listened to it ring.

Knowing it was him.

Unwilling to pick it up.

Refusing to allow Nan to turn off the ringer.

That final tether.

I didn’t answer.

Not once.

I shook away the memory and threw myself across the mattress to pick it up before it woke Nan. “Hello?”

“So, it does work.”

My heart sprouted great wings to beat against the walls of my chest. “W-what?” I stuttered.

He chuckled. “Who would have thought it would take twenty-two years for you to pick up the phone?”

“Gabe?” I asked stupidly.

“Shae, darlin’,” he chuckled. “You’re killing me.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Hello, Gabe.”

“Hello, Shae,” he mocked gently. “Why didn’t you get in touch?”

I blew out a breath. “Wow, you’re just going for it.”

“Yup. Your answer is going to determine what happens next.”

Two iron fists grabbed hold of my innards and twisted them in opposite directions. “What if my answer’s not good enough?” I asked quietly.

“Do you want it to be good enough?” he countered gently.

More than anything.

“Are you married?”

“No.” He paused, then demanded, “Meet me for coffee.”

I fisted my hands around the waistband of my big-girl panties and yanked them into place.

“When and where?”

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