38. Dove #2
His heavy footsteps sounded behind me as I palmed the doorhandle.
He trekked across the porch behind me before descending the steps.
When the engine of his Suburban roared to life, it was like the knife he'd already buried in my back twisted deeper, straight through to my heart.
The crunching of his tires on the gravel as he left cut it from my chest entirely.
There I stood, alone, with a gaping, empty hole in my chest where my heart used to be.
Josh had left and took it with him.
Again.
A part of me truly believed Josh would turn around and come back.
I had no idea why—it’s not like he’d done it before.
No, once he’d left, he stayed gone, not once returning or reaching out, without even an attempt to find a way to assure me he was still alive and safe.
But for some reason, I wanted to believe what we’d shared this summer was different.
That we were different. Even if he’d been planning to leave from the start, maybe what we shared was enough to change his mind.
I just hadn’t had it in me to convince him.
I’d defaulted to anger, just like I had when he’d first come back, and pushed him away.
Most likely for good.
I drifted into the kitchen like a ghost, unsure of what to do with myself even though there were chores that still needed to be finished.
It seemed like days had passed, when it had only been minutes.
Overhearing Stella say Josh was selling the farm replayed in my head, followed up by that soft hurt noise he made before he left.
Then my mind started spinning with all the things I should have said, wondering if it had been a mistake to tell him to leave.
If I hadn’t, would he have left anyway, or would he have stayed?
I’d been fueled by my shock and anger, yes, but also, I think a part of me had been testing him, hoping he would prove me wrong and stay. Stay like I wanted him to... even if he didn’t.
His coffee mug was still in the sink, waiting to be rinsed off to use tomorrow. One of his hats sat on the counter, forgotten. His spare muddy boots were placed neatly in the mudroom, waiting to be cleaned. Everywhere I looked, I saw Josh in this house, when years he had been absent.
He might not have viewed this place as his home, but he’d done a great job at infiltrating it like it was, anyway.
Could I go back to living without him?
I climbed the steps toward my bedroom, eyes prickling with tears, chest tight from holding in my sorrow. This place was just a shell without my family. Without Josh.
There was no way I could handle this farm by myself, even if I’d somehow convinced myself after our parents died that I could, even if I’d just told Josh I could.
Having him back was a blessing and a curse.
It had been amazing having his help, but it also opened my eyes to the realities of running a farm.
I couldn’t handle it all on my own.
I didn’t want to handle it on my own.
But here I was—alone.
The heaviness of that thought crushed me as I collapsed on Josh’s side of my bed, his scent immediately enveloping me and opening the floodgates.
My chest heaved as I sobbed into his pillow, both comforted and tortured by it.
Knowing he’d been here just this morning, holding me, and knowing that he wouldn’t be here tonight to wrap me up in his arms and protect me from my grief sent me spiraling.
I cried until my eyes were puffy and sore, completely depleted of tears. I laid there on his side of the bed, letting my thoughts spiral from one to the other. To Josh leaving, to running the farm, to being alone, back to Josh again. Pinging like a ball trapped in a pinball machine.
Until the rumble of thunder in the distance erased my thoughts like an Etch A Sketch.
I sat up in bed, ears pricked, wondering if perhaps I’d imagined it.
But no, a minute later came another rumble, telling me that a storm was rolling in—and fast.
Sitting upright was a challenge, but I forced myself through it, knowing that if a storm was coming, it was my job to bring the horses in. They couldn’t stay out, and I wouldn’t let them. Even if all I wished to do was drown myself in a pool of my own tears.
I ran on autopilot as I coaxed the horses in with treats, letting myself feel something other than sadness as Clover nudged me with her nose, clearly feeling better since we started her on her medication.
I led her to her stall, which was nice and clean thanks to Josh’s hard work this morning.
Had it really only been this morning we’d worked side by side, hearts in sync, lost in our own little world? Had it only been hours ago that I was on my knees for him, trusting him in the vulnerable way you trust someone you think will stay?
Sadness and anger settled like twin stones in my chest, heavy and unmoving, an ache I feared might never leave. The sting of his betrayal sat sharp between my ribs, like a dagger sheathed between bones. He’d been keeping secrets while I looked at him like he was my future.
Stupidly, I’d let myself love him like he’d be mine forever.
But he’d been making plans to leave me.
Clover snorted, shifting beside me. I rubbed her side, murmuring softly. She always grew anxious during storms, and her unease only fed my own.
How far had Josh gone? Was he still in town? Was he even driving right now?
Rain began to patter against the tin roof, soft at first, then steadier—like my panic finding rhythm.
What if something happened to him, like it did our parents? What if he got hurt?
I couldn’t lose Josh, too.
I didn’t want him to go.
Oh, god. What had I done?
Just the thought of never hearing his voice again, never feeling his lips on mine, never being wrapped in his arms—it made holding on to my anger seem foolish.
I’d let my pride and ego speak louder than the truth—that I loved Josh more than anything else in world.
If he didn’t want the farm, then neither did I.
If he wanted to leave, I’d follow.
I only wanted him.
Slipping my phone from my back pocket, I pulled up his contact. It went straight to voicemail.
A jolt of panic shot through me, cold and sharp.
I clenched the phone tighter in my sweaty hand, forcing myself to breathe, to push the rising dread back down where it wouldn't take over.
Josh had never been great about charging his phone, I reminded myself, clinging to the hope that it was just dead and not something worse.
You’re the only one I want to get in contact with, Dove, and you’re right here.
Once, I’d found it endearing. Now I found it infuriating. Everyone should have their phone charged in case of emergencies.
I dialed the only other person I could think to contact.
“Come on, come on,” I urged Eddie to answer under my breath, biting at my thumbnail as my anxiety climbed as another rumble of thunder came and went.
“Pidge!” Eddie’s voice burst through the line, nearly drowned out by the clatter of background noise. “Sorry, it’s loud. I’m at the restaurant. Swear everyone and their abuela decided to show up. Everything okay?”
“No,” I choked out. “Josh left. Is he with you?”
I heard him say something I couldn’t quite catch over all the noise, then the din of the restaurant faded, like he was stepping somewhere quieter. “He left?”
“Shortly after you did.”
“Shit, did you two fight? I told him he should have told you, but does he listen? No. Everything thinks good old Eddie is all looks, no brain, pero, let me tell you?—"
“Eddie,” I gritted through my teeth, cutting off his rant. “I’m sorry, but a storm’s coming. Is Josh with you or not?”
“No, Dove. I’m sorry,” he apologized, soft and sincere. “But I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he stopped somewhere in town for a bit to cool off?”
He wasn’t the one in need of cooling off, but I didn’t tell him that.
“Maybe,” I managed to get out, voice thick from holding back more tears.
“If I see him, I’ll call you,” he promised.
“Thanks, Eddie,” I whispered before hanging up, just barely resisting the urge to throw my phone. Only on the off-chance Josh was okay and did decide to call, I didn’t want my phone broken.
I double-checked that the horses were okay for the night and made sure the hay was stacked far enough into the barn to stay dry before heading back to the house. I couldn’t find it in me to run, so I let the rain wash over me, soaking me to the bone.
Inside, after changing into dry clothes, I paced my room, flinching each time the sky rumbled ominously, storm growing in intensity as the sun began to set behind rain-swollen clouds.
My ears strained as an ambulance wailed in the distance—and just like that, my mind spiraled to a dark place. A place filled with death and regret, with thoughts of my dad, my mom, Gareth. Josh.
That devastating thought had me flying from my room and down the stairs, my foot slipping on the last few steps and nearly sending me tumbling to the floor, but I managed to catch myself on the banister in the nick of time, heart beating like a war drum.
“He’s fine,” I repeated like a prayer, but as the rain picked up and the wind howled, thoughts of Josh hurt or worse , flooded my brain.
There, standing in the living room, panicking about what to do, I heard the unmistakable sound of someone’s car door slamming closed.
Time came to a standstill as I froze, wrenched back to the beginning of summer like a time traveler. To that same sound after I’d gotten that fateful call that day.
I checked my phone quickly, worried I’d missed a call, but my notifications remained empty.
My body trembled with both fear and hope as I crept towards the door. Each step weighed me down the closer I got; scared to open it, scared not to open it. If it was Josh, he’d walk right in. If it wasn’t Josh…
Oh god.
A wave of nausea hit me as my hand curled around the doorknob. I wasn’t sure I could survive someone standing on the other side of that door, ready to hand me the kind of news that would break what was left of me.