Page 34 of Until Hanna

“What the fuck?”

“Again, that’s not a question, Walker.”

“He cheated on you?” I start to pace, and the phone goes quiet for a few seconds.

“He did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the last time we talked?” I ask, feeling sick.

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I mean, you have way more important things to think about.”

Do I? She probably thinks that, but I always worry about her. I have since we were kids.

“You should have told me.”

“I should have. I just don’t want you to worry.”

“You’re my family. Of course I’m going to worry. How’s my nephew?” Fuck, that weight on my chest gets heavier.

“It’s been an adjustment, but he’s doing okay.”

“Fuck,” I clip out. “I’m going to kill Bowie.” I never liked her husband—or ex-husband. Not because of any one thing he did. He was always just too fucking cocky.

“How haveyoubeen? Are you dating anyone?”

So now we’re changing the subject? Not a surprise.

“I’m seeing someone. She’s a flight attendant.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s from Tennessee actually.”

“Small world.”

“You’re not wrong.” I let out a breath. “Now, tell me the truth. How are you?”

“Happy,” she says quietly. “I know I shouldn’t be, given what happened, but I think Bowie and I were over before he started having an affair. I was just too busy to realize it.”

“Do you need anything? I can send you some money.”

“I’m good. We’re good.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she says quietly.

“Okay.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to make it home this summer? I’m sure Mom and Dad told you about the RV they bought. They’re going to drive to visit me.”

“They did. I just don’t know right now. Things are up in the air.” It’s not that I don’t want to see her. I just hate seeing our parents. Our dad cheated on our mom constantly and didn’t give a fuck anytime she found out. Or he pretended to but then would go and do it again. I don’t know if he’s cheated since Miranda moved away from home, but what he did can’t be erased, and I’m still pissed at him.

“Well, let me know, and hopefully you can bring your girl.”

“Maybe,” I mutter, looking over at Ham when he starts to ask me to help with the lines as the boat begins to move. “Sorry, kid. I gotta go. Call me soon.”

“Okay, love you.”

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