I attach the bracelet around my own wrist, instantly feeling a little better. A little less alone. A little more loved. I never should have taken it off.
“Thanks for the warm memories, Mother. Always a pleasure.”
“Next time you come home don’t be such a sass.”
There won’t be a next time.
I turn and speed walk away. I’m not sure if Trent is following me or if he’s been snatched up by my mother. I can’t stay here anymore, letting her chip away at my heart.
A guy with a full beer comes stumbling toward me, and I jump out of the way.
“Karli! Wait!” Trent calls behind me.
“Run faster,” I holler. I have to get out of here. The road is calling my name.
I keep walking. The only sound I register is the buzzing in my head like a hundred angry bees are fighting, and I need them to stop.
I push out a door. The heat wave and the tears hit me at the same time.
My heartache hits my face drip by drip, pouring over.
“Karli.” Trent’s voice finds me once more. Softer this time. He doesn’t need to be worried. I’m fine.
I swipe my cheeks. “Stupid Vegas rainstorms, only raining on me.”
“Is that how those work?” he asks, his tone light and amused.
“Clearly,” I sniff and turn around. “Well, I got what I needed. Ready to go?”
He frowns, not buying my forced contentment. “I can wait.”
I know he doesn’t want to wait. He wants to be home with a family who will no doubt miss him if he isn’t sitting at their table for Thanksgiving. But the fact that he will wait for me fixes a tiny piece of what my mom broke. Tears choke me up, but I choke them right back. They are unnecessary.
“I’m great. Ready to drive.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 8
Trent
Ihadthought,hopedreally, Bertha would look better in the light. But the dim fluorescent bulbs in the parking garage aren’t doing her any favors. She’s still hideous. After witnessing Karli’s interaction with her mom though, I have no room to complain. My mom isn’t perfect, but never once has she treated me like I or any of my siblings were unwanted. What kind of person hurts their own children like that?
When I caught up to Karli outside, I saw the tear streaks she’d wiped from her cheeks. But she forced a smile onto her face and pretended she was fine like the whole ordeal was nothing.
I wonder if there’s anyone Karli can be vulnerable with. Maybe Juliet?
Karli turns on the van and revs her up. That or Bertha is complaining.
“I think that was grumpy old van speak for ‘get off my porch’,” I say.
“Hey, what did I say about speaking ill of Bertha? She doesn’t like it.”
“And what else does our very moody carriage despise?”
Karli purses her lips like she’s fighting a grin. “Sarcasm. And Justin Timberlake.”
I raise my brows, the corner of my lips tugging upward. “How ever will I survive three hundred miles without getting my sexy on?”
