Page 103 of Savage Keepsakes

“Have you had anything to drink today?”

I shake my head no, my throat drier than the desert. She pulls out two glasses and fills them with ice before putting water in them.

She jerks her head toward the hallway, and I follow her like a lost puppy.

“Let’s go soak in the sunshine. The porch has the perfect amount,” she whispers.

JoJo moves cautiously, like I’m an abused animal about to flee at any moment. She knows me so well, but yet not at all.

The only person to understand me was him, and the realization sets over me in waves. My nose burns as the tears well in my eyes. This isn’t how it was ever supposed to be.

“How did you know?” I croak out before sitting down on the cushion and wrapping the blanket around me.

Taking the water from her, I have a few sips before downing it entirely and setting it on the little table.

“He called me on the day he left. It was cryptic at best, but after I didn’t hear from you, I realized what it was.”

“What’d he say?” I use the edge of the fabric to wipe the tears from my face.

""JoJo, I fucked up. Be there for her, please.""

She hands me her glass of water and I down it, realizing how badly I’ve been neglecting myself.

“I wanted to kill him, you know I would. So tell me how to find him.”

“No one can find Billy unless he wants to be found. I shouldn’t have gotten so invested and fallen so damn hard. I don’t know what’s going on with everything.”

“Well, I’m here now, Lucy. I’ll take care of you.”

I lean against her and close my eyes. No one can help me right now, but I will enjoy every minute of the love that is offered.

“I should check my phone. I’ve only used it to take time off work. Artie said he understands, but I’m sure they’re not thrilled with me.”

“Probably not, but they don’t know what you’re dealing with, and after you’ve given them so fucking much of yourself, they should care about you more. Now I’ll go make you dinner later, but please fucking feed yourself.”

She hands me my phone and a tray with cheese, crackers, and fruit on it.

I pick up a few grapes and munch on them. “It’s not as if I’ll fade away,” I joke, waving my hand down my body.

“Because you’re plus-size? Baby, stop, you have curves and a shape people would die for.”

She grabs a cracker and shoves it into her mouth.

JoJo is one of those friends that, even when we don’t talk for weeks at a time, will show up and givethe shirt off her back and make sure you damn well know how important you are.

Scrolling through my phone, I see the missed calls from Artie, and my finger lingers over Billy’s contact info.

Pressing the call button, I wait to hear his voicemail, needing his voice in my ear, but am greeted with an automated message telling me this number is no longer in service.

The sob that leaves my throat is unintentional. I thought I had more time with the trivial things. His scent and voice are fading quicker than the pain radiating through my chest.

“Lucy?” JoJo picks up the phone—I must have dropped it—and hugs me tightly.

“His number’s gone. I’ve been able to hear the voicemail every day for a week, and now it is over. It’s over.” I choke on my words, wishing they’d steal my breath and bring me six feet under.

I’ve never thought about ending it all. Throughout a lifetime of abuse, I held onto the belief that I would eventually overcome it and create a better life, but now all hope feels lost.

“You’re going to make it, whatever we have to do,” JoJo says.

---