Page 25 of Free

I put my pen down with a heavy sigh. My dog, Sunshine, lifts her head, checking in from her dutiful place at my feet.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, scratching behind her ears. Her eyes slide closed and she cocks her head to give me better access to her favorite spot. With a sigh, I fold the letter and place it in a box on top of the others.

A year’s worth of letters I’ll never send.

THIRTEEN

Charlie

I step out of the grocery store into a crisp March evening, the plastic bags cutting into my fingers as I fumble to pull my coat tighter against the cold. The wind bites at my cheeks, sharp and relentless, and I burrow deeper, my chin disappearing into the collar. The gray skies above press down like a weighted blanket, muting the world around me.

The sense of foreboding that’s been following me all day tightens its grip.

With my head tucked low against the cold, I don’t see him until I’m nearly on top of him.

“Davis.”

The name falls from my lips, flat and lifeless. My ex-fiancé looks… perfect. Disgustingly so. He’s freshly tanned, his peacoat collar flipped up just so, and his hair styled into an effortless wave. His meticulously groomed brows arch as his lips curl into something resembling a smirk.

“I’m glad I ran into you.”

Glad? That wasn’t even on the list of things I expected him to say. After the wedding fiasco, the rage on his face as I left, and the honeymoon he went on without me, I would’ve put money on something more along the lines of a cutting remark or icy silence.

“Really?” I ask, too dumbfounded for niceties.

“Yeah.” Davis scowls so deeply there’s no way he’s glad he ran into me. “Did you take the Rolex Granddad left me?”

“Why would I do that?” I ask, recoiling.

“Why would you do anything you’ve done in the last month?” His tone is all self-righteous indignation, as if the mess we’re in has nothing to do with him.

“Why…?” My jaw drops. “Do you really have to ask that?”

“So you did take it.” Davis nods like he’s just acquired a signed and sealed confession.

“I did not take your cherished family heirloom. I took my clothes, toiletries, and the furniture I brought with me. Everything else is yours and is exactly where you left it.”

“Not my Rolex.”

“Maybe one of your girlfriends has it. Maybe you left it at Brando Resorts. All I know is that I didn’t take it.”

Davis’s eyes rake over me, narrowed and piercing, like I’ve left a sour taste in his mouth, before he shakes his head and steps past me, muttering as he goes into the store. A heaviness settles over me as I drive home. How many more run-ins like that do I have in my future? Or, for that matter, like the one I had with Mrs. Smith?

I pull into the driveway of my childhood home, reusable bags dangling from my forearms. Mom’s peeling carrots at the sink as I tromp through the kitchen. She takes one look at me and her brows furrow. “What happened?”

“I ran into Davis.”

Her nose wrinkles like she’s caught a whiff of something rancid.“Was it bad?”

I plonk the bags down with a sigh. “He accused me of stealing.” I relay the brief conversation while Mom shakes her head in wonderment, her peeling slowing to a stop.

“Why is he doing this, Momma?” I finally ask, the question pulling at something raw in my chest.

Mom sets the peeler down and turns to me, her face soft with sympathy. “Because people like Davis don’t like to be the bad guy. He has to shift the blame to you so he can keep his version of himself intact. If he admitted what he did, how he treated you, he’d have to admit he’s not as wonderful as he thinks.”

Her voice is steady, reassuring, but it doesn’t make the hurt sting any less.

She crosses the room and squeezes my shoulders gently. “If it helps, you’re handling this gracefully. And even though it’s hard, and it sucks, when you get to the other side of this, I promise you’ll see it led you to something better.”

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