“And what about that guy your screwing? The well-endowed rancher with a whole heap of sexy going on. Promise me you’ll take a picture, so I can drool over him, you lucky bitch.”
Summer doesn’t reply. Her hand falls to Star, and she twiddles with her soft ear, the same comforting habit she always does.
“Earth to Summer. Tell me the shitty country internet hasn’t died again. Jeez, I have no clue how you survived out in the wilderness. You deserve a medal. Tell me more about Hayden. Ellie persists, “Was he a fun ride?”
I stand tall and wait. “There’s nothing else to tell really.”
That's all she says. After weeks spent together, making love on that very bed, under the stars, in my truck - and she thinks there's nothing to fucking tell. My blood scorches like wildfire, and my fists balls so tight my nails nearly draw blood.
I am a fucking fool.
A fool for her.
A fool for love.
A fool for giving her my heart.
Without disturbing her very important video chat with her best friend who she’ll run home to for a very happy future with, I careen out of the house and jump into my truck. I need to go anywhere that isn’t here, where the memories of Summer Brady won’t haunt me.
22
I waitedfor Hayden for over three hours. Hank took pity on me and made a salad sandwich on gluten-free bread. The same bread Hayden bought in bulk and put in the freezer so I wouldn’t run out. Quite the joke really, given the guy didn’t show up to say goodbye to me. He obviously had pressing ranch chores to take care of, or something else that was more important than kissing me or begging me to stay.
I’d scrawled my mobile number on a page that just happened to soak up one of my tears. After cuddling Star for the very last time, I hugged Hank and shuddered out a thank you while he swiped away my tears.
Sawyer took me to the airport in my green truck. Neither of us spoke. This time, he heaved every last piece of luggage from the bed, ordering me to wait on the sidewalk out of the way. I’d left him all my soaps and creams and shampoo, but nothing would fill the void of not being there with him. He didn’t say as much, but the heavy brow and stilted conversation felt like I’d ripped out his heart and took it with me when I boarded the plane.
The flight attendant offered me a pillow and a glass of wine. I took them both and then asked for three more mini bottles of Malbec to help knock me out for the duration of the long haul. It did the trick, and I woke up an hour away from Dublin airport. Lost, alone and heartbroken.
* * *
A week later and I’m the honorary guest to my mother’s party, which she’s renamed as my welcome home party, so she can invite more guests. Lucky me. Even the thought of socializing makes my head hurt. Who wants to chat with strangers when their heart is all tattered and spent?
“Darling? Aren’t you having fun?” Mother pats my arm while holding a champagne flute in her opposite hand. She’d taken me out to the salon and spent a fortune on hair and nails for two. The whole time I sat in the chair, I willed my phone to light up with a message from Hayden. It didn’t.
I’ve been home for two days now and nothing. The wide hole in my heart bleeds like an open wound, and there isn’t anything at home that can fix it. Not even my mother or the quick call from my father to congratulate me on holding down a job for the weeks I was away from this place. Every time I look down, I half expect to see my little bundle of fluff at my heel, but it’s just a shadow from the dark skies, not Star.
“I’m just jet lagged. Thanks for going to all this trouble, Mum.” I clink our glasses, noting my fresh yellow nail paint like the sunshine in Heartville. Broken pieces of my heart throb.
“I thought you would be happy to set foot on home ground. I saw the state of your nails, life out there is so backward and…” A new guest catches her eye and she waves.
“It was actually…” How can I describe my summer? “It was perfect.”
The entire room is filled with people of no consequence. Mother’s friends, Father’s work colleagues, a few relatives who I only see at parties, and then a group of girls who I used to meet up with on occasion when I was pretending to be happy in an unfulfilled life.
“Your father is organizing job interviews for you. Office work. You have to start somewhere. I’m so glad you’re home.” She leans over and presses her lips lightly to my temple. “You seem different. Are you okay?”
I can feel tears mount behind my eyes. “I met a man in Heartville.”
“Oh, I can’t bear this, Summer. Are you going to tell me you’re pregnant?”
“No!” I huff.
“Thank heavens. I’m not ready to be a grandparent just yet.” Mother fans her face with her hand and then tips champagne to pink stained lips. “And what of this man? Clearly it was a fling, otherwise you wouldn't be standing here.”
My eyes narrow in thought. “Wouldn’t you go crazy if I didn’t come home?”
“Of course not, Summer. You’re old enough now to find a good man and settle down. If that man is in America, then it just gives me another excuse to have a vacation.”
