Page 71 of Stick Move

My throat is tight, because every instinct I possess is screaming that something isn’t right. “For a little while longer, okay?”

“Okay,” she pouts.

I jump up, pull her stuffy from the bag and hand it to her, needing her to focus on something else, while I try to calm my nerves enough to figure out why everything feels off this morning. I hand her the toy for her new pup Mabel, and she squeals in delight.

She hugs it and jumps up and down. “Mabel is going to love this.”

“Why don’t you put this in your room, and you can give it to her when she finally comes home? Get dressed, I’ll have a quick shower and then we’ll make pancakes.”

She darts down the hall and I search the floor for my pants. I rustle my phone out of my pocket and check for messages. Nothing. I hold the phone, debating my next move and decide what the fuck, I’ll message her. I shoot a message off and wait. Nothing comes in, so I hurry to the shower and wash quickly.

Camryn’s happy voice sounds in her room as I pick my phone up off my bed and check it quickly. Still nothing. I glance around, looking for something, anything that would let me know where Brighton had run off to today and the second my gaze lands on my nightstand, and I see what she’s left for me, the world around me fades to black and air leaves my lungs in a rush.

What. The. Fuck.

I walk slowly, sure I’m seeing things, but no. Sitting right there, set out for me to see, is my grandmother’s ring. I pick it up, and turn it over in my hand to see the tape. There’s no mistaking what I’m holding.

Our breakup.

I sink onto my mattress. I’ve only been gone a few days. What the hell happened in those days? Camryn comes running back into the room, and she takes one look at me, and goes still.

“Daddy, are you sick?”

I quickly pull myself together and loosen my shoulders as I force a smile. “No, Bean.”

She crosses the room and I could fucking sob as she presses her hand to my forehead the way I’ve done to her in the past. I don’t want to hurt her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but if I brought a woman into her life, only for her to walk out on us… I fight back a tortured groan.

Camryn angles her head. “You don’t feel warm.”

I scoop her up, and she squeals as I tickle her. “Just tired. Now how about breakfast?”

“No lumps,” she screeches as I carry her to the kitchen.

For the next half hour, I numbly make breakfast, simply going through the motions as I try to puzzle things out and afterward, Camryn washes up and brushes her teeth. We head outside for a walk on the beach and the whole time, I’m searching for Camryn. By the time lunch rolls around, we eat a sandwich quickly and head to the park. I just can’t help shake the unease blossoming inside me, especially since I’ve yet to hear from Brighton. Where could she have gone?

I park and after we cross the street, Camryn takes off to see her friends. I spot Julie and Gemma and when I see them whispering, I just know whatever is going on with Brighton has something to do with them. I take a deep breath to keep my cool and start toward them.

They inch back, silencing their whispers when they see me coming their way. “Hey,” I say. They both show off brilliant smiles as my assessing gaze goes back and forth between the two of them. “How did the play date go yesterday?”

Gemma leans forward and blinks innocently. “Brighton didn’t say anything?”

“I haven’t talked to her. I got in late and she was gone this morning.” I really don’t want to fuel their gossip, but I need answers so I hold my hand out to show them the ring. “This was on my nightstand.”

“It’s for your own good, Noah,” Julie says gently and she stands and puts her arm in mine.

“What’s going on?” I bite out, no longer able to hide my anger.

Gemma rolls her hand over on her lap, offering up her palm, like it’s some kind of white flag. “Noah, we all know why you bought the place?—”

My knees weaken because I have a feeling I know where this is going. “What did you tell her?”

“It’s more about what she basically told us,” Gemma explains.

I run agitated hands through my hair and wish they’d stop being so cryptic. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Noah,” Julie begins. “The engagement ring. We talked to Brighton. We know where she’s coming from.”

“And where is that?” I ask, working to tamp down my impatience.

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