Page 182
Story: Three Reckless Words
Yes, he started it.
But I couldn’t stand to hurt him a second longer.
What else is logical when you tell someone you’re not right together—and you know it’s the terrible truth.
It wasn’t about trust.
If he couldn’t see it was unreasonable, wanting me to keep my nose out ofmy ownbusiness, then yeah, it wasn’t right.
Just like it wasn’t right to let my stupid, belligerent father come trampling mud all over his life, his family.
Removing myself like a plague rat made sense. I’m bad luck.
But damn does it hurt.
About as bad as I feel right now with fresh brush scratches, pulverized muscle, and feet turning into swollen bricks.
Leaving Holden didn’t feel half this awful.
I just felt like I had to get away before he could rope me back into a marriage I never wanted. I was scared he would chase me down and force me into the life I didn’t choose.
Now, a tiny part of myselfwantsArcher to come and force me back into the life I can’t have.
I must be insane.
But even though I can see him and Colt every time I close my eyes, I know it’s not wise. I’ve lost the right to beg for Archer Rory to come charging to my rescue again.
He couldn’t find me if he wanted to.
I don’t think I could find myself on a map.
Just in case, I roll over and find my phone, plugging it into the portable battery that the guy on Facebook Marketplaceassuredme was working perfectly.
Guess what?
My phone charges less than five percent before the battery sputters out. Then nothing charges at all.
This is fine.
I’ll just head back into civilization tomorrow and pretend this never happened. I’ll get back in my car, try to pawn this stuff for gas money, and go straight to Lyssie.
She’ll gladly take me in.
I’ll sob all over her and we’ll eat ice cream, and then she’ll beat me over the head with a pair of reindeer socks—she wears them year-round—until she forgives me.
A few glorious months from now, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.
I can regroup for a few days in Springfield, laying low, and run away with a better plan.
If only those cicadas or whatever they are weren’t so loud, I might actually be able to get some sleep. I duck under the hood of my sleeping bag, which has the added benefit of making sure said bugs don’t crawl all over my face.
I’m lyingonthe tent, but still.They can crawl.
And I’m still willing my brain to shut out the creepy crawlies when this weird moaning sound comes from my left.
I bolt up.
Okay, Mother Nature.
But I couldn’t stand to hurt him a second longer.
What else is logical when you tell someone you’re not right together—and you know it’s the terrible truth.
It wasn’t about trust.
If he couldn’t see it was unreasonable, wanting me to keep my nose out ofmy ownbusiness, then yeah, it wasn’t right.
Just like it wasn’t right to let my stupid, belligerent father come trampling mud all over his life, his family.
Removing myself like a plague rat made sense. I’m bad luck.
But damn does it hurt.
About as bad as I feel right now with fresh brush scratches, pulverized muscle, and feet turning into swollen bricks.
Leaving Holden didn’t feel half this awful.
I just felt like I had to get away before he could rope me back into a marriage I never wanted. I was scared he would chase me down and force me into the life I didn’t choose.
Now, a tiny part of myselfwantsArcher to come and force me back into the life I can’t have.
I must be insane.
But even though I can see him and Colt every time I close my eyes, I know it’s not wise. I’ve lost the right to beg for Archer Rory to come charging to my rescue again.
He couldn’t find me if he wanted to.
I don’t think I could find myself on a map.
Just in case, I roll over and find my phone, plugging it into the portable battery that the guy on Facebook Marketplaceassuredme was working perfectly.
Guess what?
My phone charges less than five percent before the battery sputters out. Then nothing charges at all.
This is fine.
I’ll just head back into civilization tomorrow and pretend this never happened. I’ll get back in my car, try to pawn this stuff for gas money, and go straight to Lyssie.
She’ll gladly take me in.
I’ll sob all over her and we’ll eat ice cream, and then she’ll beat me over the head with a pair of reindeer socks—she wears them year-round—until she forgives me.
A few glorious months from now, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.
I can regroup for a few days in Springfield, laying low, and run away with a better plan.
If only those cicadas or whatever they are weren’t so loud, I might actually be able to get some sleep. I duck under the hood of my sleeping bag, which has the added benefit of making sure said bugs don’t crawl all over my face.
I’m lyingonthe tent, but still.They can crawl.
And I’m still willing my brain to shut out the creepy crawlies when this weird moaning sound comes from my left.
I bolt up.
Okay, Mother Nature.
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