Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
The entire drive to Tatum’s, the inner voice tears at me like a dog with a stuffed toy, gnawing and ripping until it gets to the vulnerable squeaky toy inside of me and punctures it with its razor-sharp teeth.
Once there, witnessing Tatum and Drew’s romantic reunion and just how willing Drew is to take chances in the name of love only makes the hollow, savaged feeling inside worse.
I’m so happy for Tatum, but I’m so sad for myself.
And then I arrive home to no message from Barrett on my cell or my landline and burst into tears. I cry in the bath, then in my bed, and keep crying until the first gray light of dawn creeps through my curtains. I finally fall asleep for a little while, but when I wake up around nine-thirty, there’s still no text from Barrett. There’s no email, no chat app contact, not so much as a DM on social media to let me know that he made it home alive.
But he did.
A quick cruise by his place on my way to grab coffee and a heart-soothing bagel sandwich confirms his truck in the driveway and the man himself seated at his breakfast nook, his silhouette clearly visible through the curtains as he flips through the paper and sips his coffee.
Just like that, I’m done.
Something shifts deep inside, and a long-silenced voice insists that it’s had enough. Before I know it, I’ve booked a flight to Thailand, leaving that afternoon. I’ve arranged for my mom and sister to check in on my house, contacted Kinsey to request that she take over head nursing duties until I get back, and started packing.
The last thing I do on my way out the door to the taxi is text Barrett to let him know I’ll be taking a three month leave of absence. And then I block his number.
If I still have a job when I get back—great.
If I don’t, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
In the meantime, I’m going to have that big adventure I’ve been saving for but putting off for years. I’m going to see parts of the world most small-town girls never see, eat curry until my belly pops the buttons on my jeans, and sleep in a hut by the ocean. I’m going to float in the waves and bask in the sun and be good to myself.
And when I’m strong again, I’ll come back to Bad Dog and start my life over with no Barrett mistakes in it.
That’s the plan, and I stick to it.
I rest and sightsee and snorkel and take yoga classes. I eat amazing food, meet amazing people, and volunteer part-time at a tiny clinic for pregnant women near my beach resort.
I realize all over again that no matter where we live or how we were raised, no matter what color our skin or what God we worship, we’re all so much more alike than we are different. We struggle with the same fears and so many of the same dreams. We all want love and safety and peace in our communities. We all want the freedom to grow and change and create and the security of knowing the people who matter will always have our backs.
And we all want to put the guy who was too oblivious to love us in our rearview mirror and never look back.
That’s what I intend to do, and every day that I’m away I remind myself that forgetting I ever loved Barrett—or felt so perfectly close and safe in his arms—is the best thing to do.
Three months later, I return home sure of who I am and more determined than ever to make my dreams come true.
I want to continue to have a great career and close ties with my family, but I also want a boyfriend and someday, a husband. I want a shared life and shared goals and hopefully a couple of cool kiddos I can lavish with all the love my mother gave me.
So, when Christian, Barrett’s little brother, pulls me aside at Sunday biker brunch on my first full day back in Bad Dog, and asks me to be his date to the Animal Shelter Ball, I know I’m going to say yes. Even though Barrett is glaring at me from beneath a tree on the other side of the park. Even though my sister is standing right behind Christian, holding the now tame and well-behaved Kyle the Turkey’s leash, rolling her eyes in a silent plea for me not to go out with him.
Starling confessed to me in private that she finds Christian insufferable and would give at least one pinkie finger, if not an entire hand, not to have to work with him on the Furry Friend Society’s yearly fundraiser campaign and benefit ball.