Page 60 of Saving Grace

Pulling on short denim shorts and a T-shirt, I forgo the bra since it’s just the two of us and I’ll be going to bed in a few hours. My phone buzzes on the dresser. A text.

I pad to where it sits and swipe it up.

Opening the screen, I tap on a number I don’t recognize. The message is empty. Like someone tapped out a bunch of spaces and hit send.

My gut sinks.

I haven’t heard from Joel for weeks. The last text he sent—which I ignored—was during Sunday lunch at Louisa’s. Nothing since.

Same old thing every time.

Where are you?

Why did you leave?

None of your goddamn business. Should have left sooner.

I will never respond. I can’t. I won’t.

The phone vibrates in my hand again. It almost slips from my hand when I realize it’s ringing.

Joel.

All I can do is stare at it.

Too angry and shocked to answer, I let the call go to voicemail. I toss the phone onto the bed like it’s on fire.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” The low rumble comes from the doorway.

I spin back, my heart in my throat. It’s as if somehow Mack knew Joel is still contacting me. My place here is over. He grips the top of the doorframe with both hands and swings forward on his feet. His focus drifts to the center of the bed. Fire consumes my cheeks. I shove my hands in my back pockets and swallow, dropping my eyes to stare at the floor.

The phone rings again.

“You gonna get that?” Mack says, nodding toward the buzzing.

I lift my head to meet his gaze and shake my head.

“You should. Tell them what’s what, Grace.”

The air lodges in my windpipe. Releasing his grip, his arms fall, and he steps over to where I stand. “Do it for your own peace of mind.”

I should.

I should be brave enough to tell Joel to take a hike. To never contact me again.

A firestorm of wasps in my chest have stolen the last of the useful oxygenated blood from my brain, leaving my neurons to short-circuit. “I’ll just let it go to voicemail...”

Mack raises an eyebrow at me for the second time this afternoon. “You know, ignoring a problem doesn’t make it go away. This really smart, beautiful girl I know taught me that.”

I roll my eyes at him.

He’s talking about me, right?

I lean over the bed and pick up the phone. My hands shake. The missed call notification sits on the screen. I tap it and hit the messages icon. The unknown number and Joel’s last text still show in the recent tab. Opening Joel’s messages, I tap out a message.

Do not contact me. Ever again, Joel.

I hit send and Mack folds me into his chest, his chin on my head. The breath he releases is long and his body relaxes around mine. But I can’t help but feel that responding, even telling Joel to leave me alone, will only make him more persistent. Because now he has confirmation that I’m alive and well. Choosing to be anywhere he’s not.

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