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CHAPTER 16

EMBER

You! You were more important. You’ve always been more fucking important!

“What can I do to make it better?”

I stare at Lori, her face a blur through my tears. It’s been a week since I broke things off with Parker, and I’ve done nothing but cry. Lori has been with me every free moment she has, but I can’t expect her to keep it up. I have to find a way to pull myself together.

“I th-thought he’d fi-fight for me,” I cry.

She wraps her arm around me. “I know, hon. Honestly, I did, too.”

“Why d-didn’t he?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should call him, talk to him about it,” she suggests, not for the first time. “You guys have been together since middle school. Surely, he doesn’t want this to end either.”

I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my hoodie. “I can’t c-call him.”

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed?

Shuddering, I hiccup several times as I try to pull myself together. “Because, if he wanted to be with me, he’d pick up the damn phone.”

She snorts. “Parker’s a guy. Guys are stupid.”

“You said it yourself, we’d been together since middle school. He knows he can call me.”

“Does he, Em? Because from what you’ve told me, you made it pretty clear that you were done.”

As my best friend, it’s her prerogative to call me out on my bullshit, but it doesn’t mean I’ve gotta like it. Signing, I decide that maybe she’s right. Maybe I should call him.

“Fine. Hand me the phone,” I grumble, pointing to the cordless sitting on the arm of the couch in my apartment.

Lori grins like a kid on Christmas, her hope flaring, and it’s impossible not to feel a little myself. But as soon as I make the call, any hope is immediately snatched away.

“Ember, honestly, why are you calling?” Mrs. West says once I identify myself.

“I just want to talk to Parker,” I say. “Please.”

“Even if I wanted to let you talk to him, you can’t.”

“But… why?” I work hard to keep my lower lip from wobbling.

“He’s gone, Ember. Left for Oregon two days ago. Said there was no point in waiting since you aren’t getting married and that staying here to possibly run into you in town would be worse than death.”

My heart cracks wider than I thought possible. “Oh.”

“Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ve got to finish dinner before Mr. West gets home.”

“Right, um, no, there’s nothing else. Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Ember.”

She hangs up before I can say anything else.

I bolt upright in bed, my shorts and tank top sticking to my clammy skin. I haven’t had that dream in years, the one that reminds me very acutely of how big of a fool I was when I was younger.

No, I wasn’t a fool. I did what I had to do.

Still telling yourself that, hmm?

Sunshine peeks through the curtains, and a quick glance at my cell tells me I overslept. Probably because I had to make a middle of the night trip, but oh well. It is what it is.

I take a quick shower and dress for the day before heading to the kitchen where I hear Mrs. West humming.

“Morning,” I say brightly. “How’d you sleep?”

“Much better than Parker, that’s for sure,” she says, her tone cheerful. “Poor thing must’ve had too much to drink because he’s passed out on the porch.”

“What?” I screech, hurrying to the front door.

I yank it open and freeze when I see him curled up on the welcome mat like a dog trying to sleep in a bed too small for them. Gently, I nudge him with my bare foot in an effort to wake him up.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, his Texan accent stronger than I’ve heard it since seeing him again.

“No,” I say, speaking loud enough to break through his hangover. “Get up.”

As if I poked him with a branding iron, he sits up, then holds his hands to his head with a scowl. “Dammit, that hurt.”

“I’m sure it did. Now get up and get inside before the neighbors see you out here like a homeless person.”

I spin on my heel and walk away, not bothering to wait and see if he follows. It’s not my house, after all, and I’m not his mother. Speaking of, I don’t hear her humming anymore, and the house is eerily silent.

Shit!

“Mrs. West,” I call out. No response. “Mrs. West,” I try again as I race through the living room to the kitchen, finding it empty. The stove, however, is on and a pot is boiling over.

“Why are you yelling?” Ghost asks from behind me. “Use your inside voice.”

“I’m yelling because while I was dealing with you, your mom disappeared,” I reply frantically and rush down the hall to check the bedrooms and bathrooms.

“What do you mean she disappeared?” he snarls, all traces of his rough night gone. “You’re supposed to be watching her.”

“No shit, asshole! But she said you were sleeping on the porch, and I—” I clamp my mouth shut before I say something I can’t take back.

“You what?” he demands. “What could possibly have been more important than your damn job?”

His taunt causes my vision to go red. Rage bubbles up the back of my throat, and I can’t stop myself from shouting my reply.

“You! You were more important. You’ve always been more fucking important!”