Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Margot crossed her legs, always polite even in sweats and an oversized hoodie. “I really thought we’d get a few days together, but …”
She trailed off, leaving Delaney with the option to speak for them both.
How could she explain?
Or apologize?
She hadn’t even been able to do that to herself lately.
“I know, I flaked coming home,” Delaney muttered.
Or rather, she was willing to let her friends make plans to gather for a week in their valley town to catch up after the Christmas season, but Delaney didn’t follow through on any of it. Even her cousin went home to spend time with her sister—one of the only family members left who still spoke to the pair—but she remained three hours away in the city.
Safe in a crowd of faces that didn’t know hers.
Away from familiar streets.
Alone.
Part of her liked that—it made spiraling into a darkness of her own making easier when there weren’t other people around to see her do it. She didn’t have to explain the hollow spot in her chest where her heart used to be that had been eaten away by her ever-constant guilt. A monster she just couldn’t shake.
“Gracen says you haven’t been home in over a year,” Margot noted quietly.
“I’d rather not think about the time I did go home, actually,” Delaney muttered unhappily.
Margot offered her a sympathetic smile that wasn’t returned. Some shit she couldn’t even fake. “You know, they’ve finally got the wood shop up and running on the Flats, now?”
She did know that.
Gracen sent a lot of pictures. It seemed like her best friend had found a creative knack to focus every moment of her spare time when she wasn’t working in the salon Malachi had built onto the house for her.
“She was really hoping you were gonna get to the valley last week, Delaney, but I don’t think she was surprised when you didn’t show up, either. It still hurts, though. It’s disappointing.”
What isn’t when it comes to me?
Nothing came as a shock, now.
Not when it came to Delaney.
“Sometimes, Gracen talks too much,” Delaney replied.
She hoped it did the job to make her lack of interest in the direction of the conversation clear. It wasn’t Margot’s fault, really. Some things just couldn’t be helped.
Instead, Margot challenged her with, “Or is it that she worries about you just enough, Delaney? I mean, come on.”
The sharp comment hit Delaney right in the heart. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, somebody’s got to care about you. It sure as hell seems like you don’t anymore.”
Yeah.
Friends always knew.
*
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Delaney rushed to apologize the second she picked up the ringing cell phone. Almost too late—on the fourth ring, just before her voicemail picked up the call. “I’m sorry, Gracen, I swear I’m not ignoring you, okay?”
“You sure? Kind of seems like it.”
Delaney rolled her eyes as she turned the Jeep off in the parking stall of the large lot in front of the strip mall where she’d worked at a walk-in salon for almost two years. “Come on, I know I didn’t call you back, and you left a message last night, but—”
“I wanted to tell you that I wasn’t mad you didn’t come home to visit,” Gracen interjected before Delaney could get another word out. Not that her friend could hear the woosh of relief that rushed from Delaney’s chest at the news, but the weight was gone. Mostly. “Margot called from the airport last night and said you guys talked. She thought maybe she crossed a line, and I just want you to know it’s okay, Delaney. I get that you’re dealing with stuff you have to work through and that you’re not ready, yet. That’s okay.”
The very last thing Delaney needed to currently do was wipe away tears in the blustery parking lot of her place of employment, but so was her life lately. Mid-January was as harsh of a Canadian climate as one could get in New Brunswick, and with the freezing temps and shitty weather came Delaney’s equally terrible mood.
Seasonal depression could be a real bitch. Especially piled on top of an already struggling mental state. She needed to get herself figured out, and soon.
“Thanks,” Delaney mumbled against the heel of her wet palm.
“Yeah, of course,” Gracen returned on the other end of the call. “Whatever you need, you know that. Margot didn’t mention it because I asked her not to, but—”
“You guys need to stop talking about me when I’m not around to join the conversation,” Delaney interjected.
Gracen scoffed. “Stop it—nobody’s talking about you.”
“Well—”
“Malachi and I got engaged over Christmas. I wanted to share the news with you when you came home so it could be something special … not over the phone, or whatever.”
Like this.
Delaney cursed herself for being selfish. “I’m sorry. Is the ring beautiful?”
“Like I picked it myself. I’ll send you a picture?”