“No,” I say, firm in my decision. “No, I’m good. This is important, I have to do it myself. Just… I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Well, yeah, I figured.” She sounds relieved at the change in my tone. “Want me to cover for you?”
God bless Penny. She always knows what I need.
“Just don’t tell Mom and Dad where I went. They’ll probably assume I ran off, but I don’t want them worrying. Would you just go over and tell them I called you and that I didn’t, like, get kidnapped or die or something.”
Part of me hopes that they’ll be too worried to be mad, that this will be enough of a shock that we can actually sit down and have a real conversation. Dad will probably only wind up even angrier at me than he was in the first place, but maybe we just need to hit a breaking point before things can get better.
I may want to live my lifemyway, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it without my family.
“I can do that.” I can hear the smile in Penny’s voice, and it makes the shadow of a grin tug at my own lips. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
My whole body feels both featherlight and like I’m weighed down by boulders, my breathing seems impossible to keep steady, and my vision is a little blurry around the edges. I feel like I’m floating on air and about to crash into the ground face first, in limbo between residual panic, uncertainty, and the relief of doing something instead of sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I laugh, a little too hysterically to write off as sane. “I have no idea, Penny. I’ll be safe, though, I promise.”
Whatever happens next, I won’t dig myself deeper into this hole I’ve been sinking into. I’m going to claw my way out if I have to scrape my fingers to the bone to do it.
“Alright,” Penny says, still sounding a little hesitant despite my assurances. “Just call me if you need anything, okay? You know I’ll be there in a heartbeat if you want.”
The smile that comes at hearing that is a little easier.
“I know,” I say softly, my chest warm with affection and gratitude. “I love you, Pen. I’ll let you know what happens, okay?”
“I love you, too, Mags. Keep me in the loop, I’m only a phone call away.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up, and I feel a million times better by the time I pull my phone away from my face. My heart has stopped pounding quite so hard, my head not quite so fuzzy. Even when I pull the paper with Bennett’s address out of my backpack, my hands are the closest they’ve been to steady since I found out I’m pregnant.
I type in the address on the page and order an Uber, taking a deep breath before standing from my seat and heading toward the doors.
The Texas air is warm and muggy outside, and I suck in a lungful of it to center myself. I’ve got a few minutes before my Uber gets here, and then it’s a half hour drive to Bennett’s. I’m too anxious to come up with a plan, words and ideas of what to say when I see him jumbling into an incoherent mess in my mind. Maybe I’ll be able to settle myself on the drive, but my heart is already starting to pound again, so I doubt it.
Worst comes to worst, I’m just going to have to wing it and hope things will work out.
It hasn’t worked great so far, but I’m still standing.
I won’t let myself get knocked down now.
Chapter Eighteen
BENNETT
The past monthhas somehow been both exhausting and mind-numbingly normal. I wish I could say Maggie is a forgotten memory, but the truth is that I see her every time I fucking blink. Even sleep isn’t safe, my dreams full of soft skin and sweet giggles.
My little brother checks in on me while I work myself to the bone on our irrigation, fighting the urge to unblock her number every time my thoughts drift to her.
That’s what I’ve been doing since I got back home.
It’s what I’m doing when everything goes to shit too.
Benji and I both look up in confusion when an unfamiliar car turns into the winding driveway. I frown at the approaching sedan. A bright pink sign labeling it as an Uber shines in the windshield, which is unusual to begin with. Pa doesn’t often have clients come out here, since this is the smallest of his businesses. Maybe Ma has someone stopping by.
I shrug, ready to turn my attention back to the irrigation system we’ve been trying to fix, but a flash of blonde hair through the window catches my attention. “Mag?—”
I don’t even get her full name out before we lock eyes, her baby blues blowing wide. The car screeches to a halt in the dirt, only barely past us, and the back door swings violently open.
Maggie tumbles out before the dust has even settled.
