Page 50 of Come Home to Me

I stand and stare out over my family’s farm, looking for something, anything I can say to fix things. The solution hits me so quickly that I laugh. “That’s so easy to solve, Frank. I can call Mr. Kent first thing in the morning and tell him that me coming home had nothing to do with you. I’ll explain Dad’s stroke and—”

Frank snorts. “There’s nothing you can tell him that’s going to matter much, Sweetheart.” He’s never used that nickname with me before and I don’t like the way he says it. “You’ll never guess what I found out. Did you know there are security cameras in the elevators?”

His words rock me and I cover my mouth. I remember his hands on my body. The sounds I made when he thrust into me. The feral look in his eyes. The thought of that moment being captured by cameras twists in my stomach. Who has seen that video? How many people stole that moment from us? Voyeurs, all of them, leering at the screen as Frank and I lost ourselves to each other.

“Yeah. Neither did I.” He laughs again. “I don’t think there’s anything you could say that’ll make them want me back. I’d be surprised if you still have a job there.” His words are slurred and slow and I swear I hear the faint sound of ice hitting glass. Apprehension settles over me. A desire to run, run, run back to Denver.

Hurry, Sarah. Hurry,says a quiet voice in my head.

Video footage or not, I refuse to give up on this. Frank is too good a man to lose his job because of me. “Well, I’ll still talk to them. You don’t deserve to be fired.”

“Whatever you need to do to make yourself feel better.” The sarcasm in his voice is anything but jovial. It’s hard and sharp and it hurts.

Hurry, Sarah. Hurry.

I’ve never seen this side of him before. Never seen a part of Frank that was anything but kind. Right now, he’s cold and angry. Usually, I feel like the best part of his day. Tonight, I feel like something else he has to deal with before he can get on with whatever he was doing before I called.

“I’m so sorry,” I say because I don’t know what else to say.

“Yeah. You’ve said that.”

Fear tightens its grip on me as I listen for any background noise. Music. Conversation. Something to tell me he’s at a bar. I don’t hear a damn thing and I don’t know if that makes me feel better…or worse.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“At home.” He chuckles to himself. “Just me and my friend Jameson.”

My stomach drops to my feet. “Frank? Are you drinking?”

“Yup. Started this afternoon at Derby’s right after Brian-fucking-Kent sent me packing. Still going strong at whatever time it is now.”

If he’s at home and he’s drinking, that means he stopped and bought alcohol. I could understand breaking his one-drink limit at the bar on a day like this. Maybe. Kind of. It’s not ideal, but it’s understandable. But buying a bottle of whiskey and bringing it home? That’s an entirely different kind of problem.

“I’ll be back in a couple days,” I say, looking for anything to say to make him smile. “My flight’s on Friday.”

“Are you still coming back?”

“Of course I’m coming back. Why wouldn’t I?” My internal alarm system is going crazy. A steady thrum of something’s wrong keeping pace with the beating of my heart.

Hurry, Sarah. Hurry.

“Just didn’t think you’d make an appearance. Sounds like things are going great for you. You have your family back. Why come back to me? I don’t have anything to offer you now that I don’t have a job.”

I scowl. “Is that why you think I like being with you? Because of your job?”

“My money, more specifically. I paid for your car. Your flight. Was gonna get you an apartment. Now I don’t even know if I’ll get to keep my own apartment. You know how it goes. Savings will only get you so far.” He snorts and then I hear the telltale sounds of him taking a drink.

“Frank. Listen to me. I don’t care how much money you have. I like being around you because of who you are and how you make me feel.” My words are laced with desperation, my stomach a cyclone of distress.

I’m losing him.

He’s slipping through my fingers.

He was there when I needed him, but now that he needs me, I’m on the other side of the country.

Frank makes a sound, deep in his throat. “You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. You stood by me when I had nothing. When no one else would. When I ran from anyone who tried. Well, now it’s time for me to stand by you.”

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