Chapter One
Now
Raine
Honk.
Honk.
Splash.
I close my eyes and twist, feeling my entire backside get hit with cold water. I inhale sharply as a chill seeps through my clothes and onto my skin.And my heart.
“Are you kidding me?” I throw my hands into the air and shout toward the yellow taxi that ran through a puddle, ruining the expensive dress I have on. Luckily, I was able to turn just in time and protect the camera in my hands from getting wet.
“As if today could get any worse!” I add, not caring about the side-eyes I’m receiving from a few people who speed-walk past me. No one stops to see if I’m okay or offers to help. It always seems like the people here in the city only care about what is going on in their own lives. I’m just the background noise.
Back in my hometown, there are no rude taxi drivers, and if there were, I could guarantee more than just one person would have stopped what they were doing to make sure I was okay.The people of Covewood go out of their way to provide a warm comfort that clearly the people of Rockdale know nothing about.
But I’ve chosen not to live in Covewood, I remind myself. Lately, I’ve caught myself comparing my small hometown to the overly populated city of Rockdale, where I have lived for the last ten years. I chose to make this city into my new home because, at the time, I needed to hide away in a place that was the complete opposite of where I grew up, no matter how much it hurt leaving behind the people I love.
Covewood, Kentucky is full of rolling green hills, stretches of farmlands, and a giant lake. Rockdale, Virginia, however, is covered in tall buildings, metallic and salt-scented air, and beaches littered with people and trash. Side by side, these places are obverse, and that used to appeal to me.
But not anymore. Somewhere along the way, something has changed.Ihave changed. And admitting that truth is terrifying. Because the last thing I want is to return home and confront my past. I’d rather escape among the sea of constant moving feet, bottle up my feelings, and bury them with the rest of my skeletons.
I shake away my spiraling thoughts and instead focus on wiping away the small rocks and smudges from my backside.
“Ew,” a blonde woman snarls as she jumps away from me. She lifts her hands, the expression on her face studying me as if I have a contagious disease. “You just flung some of that ick onto my brand-new Prada heels!”
“Boo hoo, lady! I’m the one who had my favorite Max Mara dress ruined by some?—”
“Whatever!” she hisses and stomps down the street.
I squint my eyes and watch her, mentally wishing she would roll her ankle or break her ugly heels and fall down. The dark thought is enough to snap me out of my angry bubble, and I realize how hypocritical I am being. I quickly ask God to forgive me for thinking of harm happening to someone.
This isn’tlike me. How in the world have I gotten to this place in my life?
Unhappy.
Unsatisfied.
And apparently, a total grouch.
Here I am, blaming the people around me when I know not all people who live in the city are self-absorbed. I have met some kind people since moving here. I, personally, seem to have lost the humbleness I had grown up with. If only I could go back in time and change my choices from ten years ago. Would life be better? But the thing is, it wasn’tjustmy choices that brought me here.
I weave my way through the crowd of people on the sidewalk. The noise of the city fades back into existence, becoming louder the farther I walk amongst these strangers. My ears are overwhelmed by blaring horns, clicking heels against concrete, and everyday chatter. It causes me to feel overstimulated and crave a breath of fresh air.
Unfortunately, there is no fresh air in the middle of the city. Smothering smoke and body odor cling to the atmosphere instead. The tall buildings block any breeze that could possibly swoop in and whisk away the stench. I miss the smell of freshly cut grass, blooming flowers, and murky lake water.
I miss Covewood.
Relief washes over me as I spot my white Honda Accord and quickly escape inside. Thankfully, I have a spare beach towel in the backseat that I use to protect the driver's seat from my soaked dress. Once I shut the car door, the busy sounds of the city outside set my teeth on edge. I need to go somewhere quiet, somewhere I can gather my composure instead of returning to the office like I had originally planned.
As I reach for my keys, I notice the tremble in my hands. Inhaling a deep breath, I squeeze my fingers together in an attempt to stop the shaking. This is how I know theoldRaine isstarting to seep through.The shaking.Always with the unsteadiness of my hands. The quivers give me away.
I look into my rearview mirror and use a makeup remover cloth to wipe away the splash of dirt from the side of my face and the smudge of mascara under my eyes. Taking the clip out of my hair, I run my fingers through my long dirty-blonde strands before replacing the clip. As I stare at my reflection, I give myself a pep talk.
“You’re okay. It’s not the end of the world. No need to have an anxiety episode today. You’ve come so far. You’re not that weak little girl anymore. You’re a strong, capable?—”
