Page 79 of Just Friends

“But—"

“Let me finish,” Dalton interrupted. “I failed you by acting like she didn’t exist.”

“It’s almost like a teenager wasn’t equipped to raise a kid,” Weasel replied. “Not your fault. I didn’t know it affected me either, until the other day… I came home, and Rebecca was in the kitchen cooking me dinner. I realized I’d never had that, and I sorta freaked out. Apparently, she noticed and thought she’d overstepped or something and that I didn’t want that. But it wasn’t that at all.”

“Then tell her.”

“I don’t know…”

“You told me earlier that you regret not fighting for her when you first met.”

“Yeah?”

“Fight, now.”

Weasel tried to call Rebecca, but it went to voicemail; he drove to Rebecca’s apartment complex, wet jeans freezing to his legs, numbing the soreness. Autumn was standing in the breezeway outside the door.

“Ms. Mac,” he called getting out of the car. As he got closer, he could tell she was in tears. “What’s wrong?”

“I came to talk her out of going, but I think I’m too late.” Autumn held up her phone, taking it, he read a text message from Rebecca:

I’m so sorry for everything I did. You have to know I never meant for any of this to happen. I’ve ruined the only good things thatI had here. I really did think of you all as my family, I promise. I didn’t lie about who I was. I made mistakes and regret them. I lost too much to stay, and it’s my fault. All I can do now is make my mom happy and keep my promise to her.

“Rebecca’s already gone?” Weasel asked.

“Think so.”

Weasel pounded on the door and listened, no movement occurred from inside. He glanced at Autumn. “Wait here.” Returning to the car, he grabbed lock picks, and in two minutes, the door swung open. “Stay out here,” he told Autumn. Technically this is illegal.

Weasel entered the dark apartment and found that some clothes were hanging from the drawers. Evidence suggested she left quickly, but she was not going far. He glanced through the jewelry box, but to his relief, the butterfly necklace wasn’t there; she was still wearing it. He’d take that as a good sign. She’d be back. It appeared that Miss Gilbert was running a scorched earth campaign of her own life. Ruining friendships and breaking up with him. That would make it easier for her to leave and fulfill that promise. Weasel started to doubt that what she said had been the truth and cursed himself for not seeing it sooner and wasting time having an emotional breakdown. Weasel needed to find her and convince her to stay with him.

“Rebecca may have gone somewhere for the night,” he told Autumn closing the door. “It’s late, go home, and I’ll try to find her.”

His cell phone rang, and he ripped it from his pocket hoping for Rebecca, but cursed when he read dispatch on the display.

Twenty-Eight

At one in the morning, Rebecca sat sipping coffee at a Waffle House counter two towns over. It was one of the few places open; she needed to get out of town and clear her head. She’d not only burned bridges, but she’d blown them to bits with a ton of dynamite. Rebecca never intended for matters to get this out of control, but it would allow her to leave free.

Of course, the information devastated Hannah; she thought they’d shared everything and the realization that Rebecca had kept secrets stung. If that wasn’t awful enough, she torpedoed the best relationship that she ever had with a man that adored her. He’d certainly never forgive her for what she said. The minute it was out of her mouth, she’d seen it was wrong, and it hurt him. At first, she feared him yelling, but it turned out that going quiet was much worse. Weasel had run, but she’d noticed the pain all over his face for the briefest of moments.

Tossing money onto the counter, she stood. When vacating the apartment, she planned on sleeping at a motel tonight, but now the thought wasn’t appealing. This time when she got into the car, she headed to White Oak.

The next morning, Rebecca woke fully clothed on top of the bedspread. She hadn’t slept long, and that was her fault for running off. Rebecca’s phone exploded with missed messages when she powered it on. There were texts from Autumn and Brandon asking her not to leave town. There were voicemails from Hannah, both blasting her and later saying she was sorry for getting so angry. There were both texts and voicemails from Weasel asking where she was, and saying they needed to talk, that it was important. Rebecca set the phone down and trudged to the shower to prepare for work. She was dependable on the job—useless everywhere else.

At Ellis Diner, she busied with the daily prep work and considered the best time to tell Morgan about her resignation. Rebecca worked with a single focus, blocking out the world to make it through the lunch rush without so much as a peep from anyone, even Weasel, which probably meant he’d given up on her. It should relieve her, but unease gnawed at her as she packed her knives. During her shift, she kept an eye out for him to come in. Maybe she should go after him? Although, he’d have every right to send her packing. But what about her job in Chicago? She couldn’t ask him to do a long-distance relationship.

Morgan Ellis wandered in, staring at a clipboard; he was taking inventory. He maintained a close monitor on the company that had been in his family for forty years.

“Hey, Morgan, I need to talk to you,” Rebecca said.

Morgan lowered the clipboard and smiled. “What can I do for you, dear.”

“I’m giving my two-week notice.” It came out easier than she anticipated. “I’m sorry…”

“Oh, don’t be. You’ve been wonderful. And stayed far longer than I imagined when I hired you.” He replied. “Now, tell me you’re going on to a finer establishment.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I have an opportunity back in Chicago.” She took a deep breath.

---