Page 96 of Coming Up Roses
I slam my hand on the tap to shut off the water and scramble for my phone.
My fingers are too wet to work the screen and I swipe my hands across my clothes, willing them to dry faster.
I slide to the floor, breath coming in short, pained gasps.
I hit at my phone screen again and I pull up the first name I can think of.
The call connects.
“Help,” I gasp. “I need help.”
47
FLYNN
I’m sittingin my ute hating myself just a little bit.
I’ve been to see the puppies and chose the one I want to bring home with me in a few weeks when they’re ready to leave their mother.
The fact that I chose the one Abi thought was the cutest when we first looked at the listing is completely irrelevant.
He chose me more than I chose him.
The puppies were roaming in a large pen and when I stepped in and sat on the grass, he raced over to me and immediately climbed into my lap. The other puppies all came for a look and played with me, but none of them had the devotion of the one with the half pink nose. He didn’t leave my side the entire time I was there, alternating playing with me and napping while sprawled across my thighs.
But the whole time, I kept thinking I should have taken Abi and Sadie with me.
Sadie would have loved meeting all the puppies and I would have loved watching Abi coo and gush over them too.
I’ve been working long hours all week, though I’m trying to hide less from my friends and family. I’ve been to dinner a couple of times since my talk with Olivia and I’ve tried not to isolate myself.
But that’s how I ran into Abi that day she was dropping Sadie off after school.
And seeing her again felt like my heart was being ripped out.
All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and love her.
But instead of doing that, I turned bitter and grouchy.
What iswrongwith me?
It’s easier this way. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Space. That’s what I need, and my behaviour that day ensures I’m going to get it.
It’s just really fucking unfortunate that what I need is in direct opposition to what I want.
I start the ute. I’ve been tempted to swing past Abi’s on my way home to tell her and Sadie about the puppy.
But that’s overstepping, so I head straight out of town, bypassing the road to Abi’s house and head for Wildflower Ridge.
My phone blares through the ute’s Bluetooth and I hit answer before I see the name flash up. It’ll be Olivia. Because she is the only one who ever calls me.
“Hello,” I say.
“Help. I need help.”
The voice is raspy and barely audible, but somehow I recognise it instantly.
Abi.
