39. Trace
TRACE
T he nights are the worst. It's when I miss her the most. Something I never thought would happen. It's unnerving how quickly she's become someone I've counted on, and a constant in what has been the whirlwind of my life since that night at the bar.
Until she was gone, I didn't notice the difference she made in my life. At night, she takes a shower, filling the room with a strawberry vanilla scent that I'm dying to smell again. It was one of the things that helped lull me to sleep when my mind wouldn't calm down.
Lying down on the bed, I grab my cell phone from the side table and think about texting Katie. My finger hovers over her name, but I can't make myself do it. I can't make myself be the person who extends the olive branch first. It's petty, but it's who I am. Instead, I move down to Kyle's name and deem it safe enough to talk to him.
T: How's she doing?
K: You should message her. She's not doing as well as you think she is.
T: How do you know I think she's doing well?
K: Because you're sitting here texting me, instead of texting her. She misses you.
T: She's still pissed at me.
K: No she's not. The two of you had the type of fight most new couples have, but neither one of you have any kind of experience with it. Anyone else would've gone home and fucked it out by now.
T: Well too bad we haven't done what you thought we should do. Neither one of us have experience, and we're doing the best we can. What made you the relationship expert anyway?
K: I've had more than you.
T: Yeah, like one.
K: Still more than you.
There are three little bubbles appearing where he's probably typing. I can't even begin to figure out what he's going to say, especially since I apparently don't have enough experience to be married, much less have a girlfriend. It looks like he's typing a bunch and then deleting it, then typing again. Finally the fucking message comes across.
K: She got a job.
T: She fucking did what now?
I sit up, resting my head back against the headboard, huffing a breath out in a huge exhale of frustration. I can only imagine if people have seen her where she's decided to work, there's going to be nothing but rumors going around. They'll be talking about our financial situation, and about our marriage. This is the last thing I need. The last thing either of us want.
K: She got a job at Enchanted Pages.
Son of a fucking bitch. The book store where everyone in town goes? Everyone is going to definitely see her, and then I'm gonna have questions to answer. Ones I'm not prepared to. The last thing I need is for one of my family members to see her and demand to know what's going on. Especially when it's up to me to get this breeding program off the ground. Tomorrow I'm supposed to start inseminating this round of calves, but I know I've got to make time to ride into town and talk to my wife.
T: Hmmm. She had to go for the jugular with that, didn't she?
K: I honestly don't think she planned it to hurt you or your family, she was thinking about what she could to protect herself.
This pisses me off. He's my best friend. He should be worried about me, and not about her. I should be worried about her, but we aren't at that place in our relationship yet. Not at a place where we can forgive each other. At least not yet.
T: Protect herself? From me?
K: What the fuck man, of course she has to protect herself from you. She doesn't know anyone else in this situation, except for me, Cain, and Marissa. I get the impression that even though she went to high school here, she didn’t have many friends. You've done the bare minimum since she showed up. Either you decide you're going to put your all into being with her, or you're going to end up losing her. Is that what you want? She's the one person in your life who hasn't cared about how much land your parents own. How much money you might be able to make once the program takes off. She thinks the two of you are in this situation together, and all you're doing is proving to her that she can make it without you. Is that what you want?
The problem is, I don't know what the fuck I want. The answer isn't cut and dry, and it never will be.
T: What time does she work tomorrow?
K: A full shift. Nine to five. She has the SUV she stole from your family, so she'll be able to get that as early as she wants to. You need to be there to talk to her.
T: Don't tell her what I need to do. I'm still not sure how I'm going to play this out. I won't know until I see her.
K: I won't let you hurt her, not anymore than she's already been hurt. Be sure when you see her you're nice and willing to meet her halfway. If not, she's more than welcome to stay here with me.
Those words piss me the fuck off. I'm tempted to call him instead of texting. But I'm scared to death of what I might say. He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I can't stand to lose one more person in my life. Instead of typing what I want to, I decide to err on the side of caution.
T: Heard, and I have a lot to think about.
K: You definitely do.
Throwing my phone down beside me on the bed, I close my eyes and wish I had different decisions to make.