Page 61 of Exposed Ink

* * *

Beep.Beep. Beep.

I wake up and reach for my phone, ready to start my day. Last night ended with Shane kissing me goodbye with the reminder that he would see me today.

Only, when I turn off my alarm, I notice today’s date … and just like that, everything goes to shit.

TWENTY

Shane

Your appointment for Friday,March 15, at 11:00 has been canceled. Please call the office to reschedule.

I stare at the email in confusion. It’s been less than twelve hours since I said good night to Kinsley on her doorstep with the promise of seeing her today. She didn’t mention not being at the shop, so either a mistake has been made or something happened between last night and this morning. And of course, I don’t have her damn number, so I can’t call her directly.

I click the number to the shop, and Scott answers on the second ring.

“Hey, man. It’s Shane. My appointment was canceled. Was there a glitch or something?”

“Hey,” he says. “It automatically sent that when I canceled it. I was just about to call you to reschedule.”

“Did something happen? Is Kinsley okay?”

Scott’s quiet for several seconds, telling me something is wrong, before he says, “Sorry, man, I can’t give out personal information. Let’s just say, today is a bad day.”

A bad day? What the hell does that mean?

“Okay, then can I have her number? I’d like to check on her.”

“You know I can’t do that. If she wanted you to have it, she would’ve given it to you herself.”

“Fine, can you at least tell me where she might be?” From the sound of his voice and his vagueness, something is wrong, and I want—no, I needto make sure Kinsley is okay.

“No clue, but her dad mentioned she prefers to be alone on days like today.”

More vagueness … great.

“Hold on.” There’s muffled speaking, and then he says, “You didn’t hear this from me, but she likes going to the park to think.”

The park …

We only have one main park in town, and it’s where I ran into her before when Taylor and I were walking Becky.

“Thanks.”

The drive to the park doesn’t take long, but when I get there, Kinsley is nowhere to be found. Next, I stop by her place, but she doesn’t answer, so I knock on her parents’ front door, but nobody’s home.

I drive around, looking for her for a while, but when it’s clear I’m not going to find her, I head back home, frustrated and worried.

Until I step out of my truck and find Kinsley sitting on my front porch. Her eyes are rimmed red, and her cheeks are splotchy, telling me she’s been crying.

I walk over and sit next to her. “I’ve been looking for you. When you canceled our appointment, I got worried. Drove all over in search of you, but I didn’t consider you’d be here.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today. I mean, I probably did, but my brain wasn’t all there when I canceled the appointments this morning. I planned to go to the park, but when I was on my way there, I realized I didn’t want to be alone.” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “It’s been three years.”

I don’t need to ask what she’s talking about because I already know. Three years since her late husband and daughter died.

“Three years,” she says again. “And it still hurts so damn much. But for the first time, I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with you.”

---