Page 56 of Spreading Her Wings

My truck stuttered when I went to start it, and I forced myself to stop and take a quick breath. “Damn it, Auston. Relax!”

Katie’s car wasn’t in her driveway when I pulled up, but I threw my car in park and jumped out without turning it off. The door was locked, even when I tried a second and third time to open it. I knocked, pounding my fist against the wood harder than intended.

There was no movement inside, and I turned, dropping my back against the wood slab. “Think Auston.” I tapped my fingers against my temple quickly before clapping. “June’s!”

My car made a small whine when I put it in reverse and slammed my foot against the gas, pulling away from her driveway. I hoped she would be at her aunt’s house. If she wasn’t, I wasn’t sure where I would find her.But I wouldn’t stop looking.

At June’s house, there was a car in the driveway I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t see Katie’s. I didn’t debate for long before I jumped out of the truck and rushed to the door. Lifting my hand, I forced myself to take a deep breath. I couldn’t pound my fist against the door at her aunt’s house. I didn’t want to scare anyone.

Knocking gently, energy buzzed under my skin. Every part of my body felt like it was shaking and needed to move, so I fidgeted in place. When the door opened, I came face to face with a man with salt-and-pepper hair and the same hesitant expression I knew all too well.

“You must be Auston,” he said. His voice was warm, not as off-putting as the half glare aimed in my direction. He dragged his eyes down the tattoos on my arms and hands. “The boy who married my daughter?”

They knew.The nerves already fluttering in my chest twisted up around my words, and I dropped my mouth open. I didn’t know what to say, and I was thankful when Cheryl walked up behind him. “Oh, Randy, be nice to the boy. Your daughter loves him.”

She looked at me with a pointed glance and a nod. It felt like an approval and a warning at the same time, as if she was saying she was okay with the situation but was going to destroy me if it ended with her daughter’s broken heart. I would destroymyselfbefore I’d let that happen worse than it already had.

“Is she here?” I pleaded. It was all I could do to stop myself from dropping to my knees and begging to know where she was.

Cheryl shook her head. “She left a couple of hours ago. I thought she was going to see you. She said something about pizza.”

“She was, but… there was a misunderstanding. I need to find her. If you see her…”

“I’ll tell her you were looking for her,” Cheryl said, her husband nodding beside her.

I started to back away, pausing to stick out my hand. “It’s really nice to meet you, sir. I’m, uh… I’m really sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, grabbing my hand and gripping it before giving it a rough shake. “Just find my daughter. If you love her, she should know that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Istared at the screen on my phone as it continued to sit there dark. The coffee in my mug was cold, not having been touched. My head ached from the drinks I’d had with Sasha last night. After walking into Auston’s kitchen and seeing a beautiful woman in his shirt and probably nothing more, I’d called her. Sasha was happy to try to help me forget.

This morning I remembered everything, though. The way the T-shirt I’d worn hugged her curves in a way it didn’t hug mine, and the way she moved around his kitchen like she was comfortable there. I remembered Simone telling me at one point everyone thought he and Sky would end up together. Did they sleep together last night?Or this morning?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear the thought from my mind, only making myself dizzy. I pressed my fingers to my temple to help steady the room and slid the mug away, pulling my attention to the pile of papers on the table. The ones I hadn’t been able to look at beyond seeing his signature on the page.

I trust you.

The tears I thought I had run out of started to roll down my cheeks again. I wasn’t going to sign those papers, not withouthim talking to me. I needed to hear him tell me he’d really be willing to just let me walk away. I wanted him to fight for me.

Around me, the silence of my house was deafening. Every sniffle and whimper seemed to echo off the walls in the kitchen and then the yellow ones in the living room I’d sworn I would paint but had never gotten around to.

I should have called him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I stood up, grabbing my purse and closing the door behind me. Aunt June would know exactly what to say, and some fresh air on the walk to her house would be good for me.

On the walk, I stiffened when a car neared me. It didn’t sound like Auston’s truck, and even though I wanted it to be him, I didn’t at the same time. Cars continued to drive by me, and not one of them was Auston. My stomach sank further as I walked.

The steps to her front porch were the beginning of comfort. Every time I walked up those stairs, I was walking into a safe place, somewhere I would be loved and never judged. Even when I married my fake boyfriend in Vegas. She’d definitely thought it was a stupid thing to do—even I’d thought it was a stupid thing to do—but, as always, she was supportive.

A small smile attempted to tug at my lips when I remembered the day she’d found Auston and me in the garage.I’ll knock next time.Without knocking, I closed my hand around the doorknob and pushed. When it didn’t budge, I bumped into it. She never left her door locked during the day, claiming it was a safe neighborhood and there was no need to.

My throat tightened, and I knocked. I was impatient, not waiting longer than a few seconds before knocking again and digging in my purse for my keys. There was always a spare key to her house on my ring in case of emergencies, but the only time it had ever been used was during a brownie emergency. I’d run out of eggs when she was at her book club meeting last fall. What if this was a real emergency?

Sweat on my fingers made the key slippery when I slid it into the lock and turned. The rolling click of the deadbolt was loud, rivaling the hum of the blood against my eardrum. “Please be here,” I said. Where else would she be?

The living room was still, and the lights in the kitchen were off. There was no hum from the radio in her sewing room down the hall, and I couldn’t hear any sound of the TV in her bedroom. “Are you still asleep?”

Mom had said she was more tired lately and sleeping in a lot later than normal. It was almost noon, though. I walked into her room, flipping on the lights. Aunt June was wrapped in her blanket with her head on the pillow, and she looked like she was sound asleep, but her lips were a shade of pale blue.

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