Except I have no clue where to begin.
Chapter 35
Shane
Oliver: I’m back! Oh my God, I have so much to tell you guys. Drinks. Tonight. On me. Who’s in?
Wes: Thank fucking God. And I swear your story better have a happily ever after. I can’t believe you fucking left me with two weeks to go before the season starts.
Oliver: I promise it did.
Simon: I’m in. Been a minute since I’ve graced The Joint with my presence. Not since the incident.
Oliver: What incident? What’s he talking about? What has happened? I know you’ve been leaving me out of things but that ends tonight. I demand to know what’s been going on.
Wes: That, my friend, we need booze for. And Shaneneeds to tell it.
Oliver: Shane? Shane, why aren’t you responding? What’s going on? I know you’re keeping something from me, and I have a feeling it’s about Amelia. I know you wanted to tell me something before I left. What the hell is going on? TELL ME. I NEED TO KNOW THINGS.
I readthe text message but I don’t respond. I don’t have the strength for Oliver and his golden retriever energy tonight.
Shane: Nothing. You guys have fun.
Oliver: Unacceptable. I’m back. I got my girl because of you. Now, you’re meeting us out or I’m coming over and dragging you to The Joint myself. I also have a lot of questions that I won’t shut up about until they’re answered.
Shane: I said I’m not coming.
Oliver: Fine, then we’re coming to your house.
Shane: The door is locked. I’m not opening.
Simon: I made keys after I couldn’t get in that one morning. Make sure you’re dressed, asshole. We’ll be over in twenty.
I put my phone down, but I don’t leave my recliner. It’s where I’ve pretty much lived for the past week.
After the kids left from verbally whipping me, the rest of the day was a blur. I remember sitting down to think about what they said, and to try and come up with a plan, but I never did. The next day I barely moved. I ignored calls and texts. None of them were from Amelia, anyway. I knew she wouldn’t be contacting me, but I had to check. I had to hope.
The day after that, I was supposed to have a shift, but I called off. It was the first time in my six years on the force that I’ve done so. I told them I needed a few days, that I needed to sort some things out.
I’m in no better shape now than when she left. I’m a mess. I’m confused. I’m angry. My heart is breaking, and I can’t seem to pull myself out of the dark.
It’s all my fault.
And I don’t know how to fix it.
My phone vibrates again, and I hesitate to pick it up, figuring it’s one of my three asshole friends again. But I sit straight up when I see Mariah’s name on my screen.
Mariah: Shane?
Shane: Hey, Pipsqueak.
Mariah: First I want to say that I’m sorry. Well, I’m not sorry because I meant what I said. But I’m sorry I yelled.
Shane: You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who should be apologizing.
Mariah: Are you going to? I mean to Mom. She’s still sad. At least she stopped crying. She told me not to text you, but I’ll use my get-out-of-jail-free card if I have to. I just need to know you’re not giving up.
Shane: I’m not giving up. I promise.