Page 4

Still, I imagine they were glad when I took myself and all my drama far away from their home.

I really shouldn’t complain.

At least I had a soft place to land with my Gramps, after all the hullabaloo of getting out of town when things got terrible.

He’s in the local senior home now, and his memory is going. But I love that old man dearly, and I visit him every week like clockwork.

I miss Mom and Dad, but contact has to be minimal for now. That’s what the lawyers told me. And it’s okay. Really, I just want them safe.

How did my life get so twisted?

At least there is some good news. I mean, the school year is winding down.

Just two more weeks of sticky fingers and Band-Aids, and then I’ve got the summer to figure out my next move.

Or at least pretend I’m figuring something out while I drink coffee on my tiny balcony and watch Netflix in pajama pants.

But this weekend? This weekend, I actually have plans.

The unofficial start of summer is here, and I’ve been invited to something that doesn’t involve boxed wine and my cat judging me from the windowsill.

Avery—one of the only friends I’ve managed to make in this sleepy corner of New Jersey—used to work with me.

That is, before she went and married an actual cowboy.

Yeah. A cowboy. In New Jersey. And he’s hot.

I didn’t believe her either until he showed up and she left this place.

We stay in touch, and I rib her about being married to the Marlboro man. She responds by sending me the silliest messages just to make me laugh.

Even voice notes where he calls her darlin’, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Her wedding was a few months ago, and it was incredible. I never had such a great time, and I thought maybe it was the start of something, maybe a new romance, for me.

That is to say, I met someone that night. Someone who I thought might be the one.

But he never contacted me after. Suffice it to say it was rather disappointing. Like most of my attempts at romance.

At least he didn’t get me mixed up in some criminal enterprise and force me to run from my home.

Geez, the bar is low from my point of view, huh?

Anyway, she invited me out to the ranch where she lives now—the Motley Crewd, which is apparently some kind of working ranch/family commune/run-by-hot-men situation—and I said yes before she even finished the sentence.

I mean, maybe Zeke will be there, but likely he won’t be hanging around Avery’s house.

I imagine he’s just some player with more women than he knows what to do with. Guy who looks like that? Yeah. Definitely.

And honestly, I’m not worried. I mean, I’m not in his league. I doubt very much he’ll even remember me.

But a weekend with food, music, games, and the christening of a brand-new in-ground pool built by the owner for the whole staff and their families? Count me in.

I don’t even own a swimsuit that fits right anymore, but I don’t care.

For one weekend, I get to leave the town, the school, the memories, and the guilt behind.

I get to pretend I’m not an ex medical student turned school nurse with no plan and no place that really feels like home on the run from her psychotic ex.