Page 71 of Coincidentally Kismet

I’ve seen this story play out before. “There’s only one explanation. I wasn’t important enough back in the day, and I’m clearly not now. I gotta go. Don’t worry, I’ll be home later. Love you.”

I hit the end button and stare at my phone in disbelief. This cannot be happening, again. Last time, at least he had the decency to break things off explicitly; this time he just leaves without so much as a peep.Clearly, I’ll never be enough for him.

Realistically, I knew this was coming. The deployment part, anyway. I really believed Will would say goodbye, that he would tell me something. It never crossed my mind that he would leave without saying anything. Even if he couldn’t come to me in person, he could have called or even texted. I made it clear my phone ringer would always be turned up, and I would answer no matter what.

How dare he make me love him again and then do this.Could he not just let me live my life? He had to waltz back in and disrupt my chance at happiness.

I’m paralyzed. I want to cry but I can’t. The tears refuse to fall. My stomach is empty, yet I’m not hungry. I’m so confused, a little lightheaded, driving isn’t an option. What am I going to do? How do I pick myself up?

Ugh, my family. Elliott has probably spilled the beans to my parents by this point. Admittedly, I’ve been dodging Patricia’s phone calls for days because I’ve been afraid of what she’d say about Will. My mom had to pick up the pieces the last time he broke me. She single-handedly stitched me back together when I was little more than scraps of used fabric discarded on the floor.She told me I would love again, that I was beautiful and valuable. She might actually kill Will now for this.

Is it possible for your mind to swirl with thoughts and be completely empty at the same time?

Deciding that fresh air will clear my head and help me regain enough focus to drive home, I slide out of my car. After hitting the lock twice to make sure my bag inside is secure, I start walking.

Wandering the tree-lined streets of Bayshore was one of my favorite things to do no more than a few weeks ago. It’s picturesque, to put it mildly. Bungalow houses are mixed in with mansions. Trees sway effortlessly in the breeze, providing the perfect canopy of shade. The cacophony of birds chirping creates the sweetest melodic background music to my hopes and dreams.

Except now it’s like being George Bailey in the black-and-white version ofIt’s a Wonderful Life. Everything is in shades of gray; my hopes and dreams are dashed. All I hear are the sounds of Saturday trash pickup, moms yelling at kids to get in cars for practice, and my heart breaking. I fucking knew better. That nagging feeling in my mind never went away, I just ignored it.

Without even thinking, I pluck my phone from my pocket and hit send on Will’s number one last time. It goes straight to voicemail, as expected, but this time I leave a message.

“Will...what in the ever-loving fuck is going on? You made me a promise. You made me believe in us again and then you just up and leave without a word. I-I w-won’t do the same. This is your notice. I love you and I always will, but I’m done. Don’t die over there, but also don’t ever contact me again. I mean it this time, Rambo. Do. Not. Call. Me. Ever. Again.”

Pain sears through every ounce of my body. I’m bawling my eyes out, pissed off, and at the same time, gripped with fear. Telling him off was supposed to make me feel better. At leastturn the pain into anger. News flash, it didn’t. Guilt claws at my insides. I want there to be an explanation, but I know there isn’t. Well, there is: He was playing around with me. I didn’t mean to him what he does to me—that’s the status quo with Will, and I fell for it again.

Gahhh! Why would he do this to me, to us? The tears start to fall faster, big mascara-filled drops stain my face.

Standing in the middle of the crosswalk, I search my phone for the only person I know can help right now. The line rings twice and then cuts on.

“Hey, I’ve been calling you for three days. What the hell took you so long?” he asks.

“Elliott . . . I need you!” I manage to say on a sob.

A car horn blares, jolting me to get the hell out of the middle of the street that I apparently stopped in.

“Dammit, Cam. Where are you? Is that a car? Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay. I’m walking in Bayshore. Can you come?”

“I’m already here. I’ve been calling to tell you I was coming. When you didn’t respond, I planned to surprise you. Come pick me up, baggage claim three.”

“I love you...I’m on my way.” I take off running toward my car.

Elliott doesn’t make spur of the moment trips. Why he’s here is a mystery, but relief washes over me. He’s the only one who truly knows me. Lo is my best friend, but there’s something to be said about having the one person who’s been there for it all. My ride or die, my protector, confidant, built-in bestie for life.

My big brother is here, and I’m going to get him, come hell or high water. He will help me fix this, figure it out, or at the very least, get me drunk enough to forget it.

CHAPTER 32

WILL

“SET YOU FREE” - THE BLACK KEYS

8:16 AM SATURDAY

My phone rings loudly, startling me awake. The special ringtone set for our commander lets me know I can’t ignore it. Briefly, dread washes over me, sending signals to my gut and brain that this is the call I’ve been preparing for.

“Davenport,” I answer succinctly, trying to mask the grogginess in my voice.

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