Page 146 of Can't Text This

Robbie

Missingsomeone you aren’t sure you ever really had is strange.

At first, you can’t eat. Nothing is appealing, not even the slice of gooey, greasy pizza you know you shouldn’t be eating anyway.

Then, sleep slides through your fingers like a slippery bar of soap.

And finally, the cold sets in.

There’s a void—a hole—and you’re not so sure it will ever be filled.

It’s only been a little over thirty-six hours since I said goodbye to Monty, but it feels like a fucking lifetime. It’s as if seconds and minutes never existed and all that’s there are decades and centuries.

I miss her laugh, her smile, her silky red locks…her ridiculous sense of humor and her inability to say even the tamest of dirty words, the way she looks when she comes, and that blush that steals up her cheeks.

I miss her.

It’s as simple as that.

I steer my car into Holly’s driveway and throw it into park.

I’m here to pick up Xavie and I need to get my shit together. I can’t wallow in front of him, especially when I can’t explain the why to him.

Time to pull up my fucking big boy pants and move on.

Move on.

Like it’s so simple.

I drag my hand over my face, scratching at the beard I’ve managed to grow in the last few days, another sign of my wallowing.

Shit. I should have shaved.

The front door opens and out runs my son, a big grin on his little face, his arms stretched wide.

“Dad! You’re here!”

Showtime.

I climb from the car and he crashes into me. “What’s up, dude? You miss me?”

“A little bit. Can we go see Thumbelina?”

“Ah, I see what this is: you only want to hang with your old man because he has a bunny.”

“And crabs. Don’t forget you have crabs too.”

I try to hold back my laugh. “Yes. How could I forget about those? Did you bring yours?”

“Mom has ’em.” He sidesteps me and pops open the door to the back seat. “I’ll be in here. Hurry up. Thumbelina’s missing her brother.”

I shake my head at the impatient little shit and head toward the open front door, where his mom stands.

It doesn’t escape me how different she and Monty are from one another. From their looks to their personalities, they’re complete opposites.

Monty is reserved, and that word doesn’t exist in Holly’s world.

Where Monty is all legs, Holly barely stands five-four.

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