Page 133 of The Americana Playbook

It’s one long painful moment of silence before the wheels of the stool Fitz sits on squeaks as he glides back, tugging my dress down. He lifts my hips to slide my underwear back into place.

I push up onto both elbows, finding Fitz raising his shoulders before dropping them in defeat, my desire still glossing his lips. He stands, waiting for me to move, to come to him, to behis.

My legs tremble. The weight of the week, of uncovered, heartbreaking truths, keeps me in place. Becausenowhis feelings are unconditional, when he thinks the narrative only involves personal revenge. But now, it involves so much more and I’m terrified it will be too much. I’m terrifiedIwill be too much and all that love? He’ll take it away.

It’s all so much it nearly breaks me. And still, I don’t go to him. I don’t say a word, but my silence draws more from him.

“I want nothing from you, Parker,” Fitz whispers backing away toward the door. “Just for you to believe my heart has always been yours.”

* * *

My hands shake as I do my best to put myself back together. It’s not an easy task. I dampen and fold a rough paper towel, carefully wiping the mascara that’s run below my eyes, and refold it to clear off around my mouth where my lipstick has smudged. But nothing will wash the unshed heartbreak from my eyes.

Opening my small bag I haven’t used since I went to Florida, I search for my lipstick to reapply. I shift around the pack of gum and hand sanitizer, pulling the tube out before I pause and reach in for the only other thing I carry.

The missing puzzle piece.

My heart? It stops, completely resets, and I feel it, the way it isn’t totally mine anymore.

I fist the small piece, shutting my bag and grabbing Fitz’s jacket before I flee the bathroom door and trudge through the hallway down toward the door we entered.

I think about our engagement party, about the look on Fitz’s face that made me realize he had been looking for me all the time I was gone. Among the faces of old teachers and people I walked this campus with, I’m searching for that look again.

“You disappeared.” Cam comes up beside me. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Earlier, there wasn’t anything more important than that conversation.

But now, there isn’t anything more important than Fitz. Because the truth is, I’m not sure I can do anything more without him. He’s a piece of me, after all. He always was.

“Have you seen my husband?”

“Not since he walked out with you before,” Cam says. “Trouble at home already?”

“We aren’t done talking. Give me your number. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I wait for him to fish his business card from his pocket before I turn, my eyes still searching for Fitz.

“Parker?” Camden waits for me to face him. “If you’re serious about this, you better be ready for war. And tell that husband of yours, I want tickets when the Rebels play the Chiefs.”

I quickly clamber away, weaving through a sea of stares as I make my way to the edge of the lawn where Agent Samuels waits on the pavement. “Have you seen Fitz?”

“Mr. Rhodes said he was taking a separate ride home. He walked to the main entrance about fifteen minutes ago,” Agent Samuels informs me.

“And youlethim? He’s myhusband.”

Agent Samuels begins to follow me as I make my way down the steps. “Ma’am, the President and First Lady confirmed our directive only includes you. Not Mr. Rhodes.”

I begin to pick up the pace. “Well, my directive isdon’t follow me,” I snap over my shoulder before looking out at the lush grass making up the campus square that students were forbidden from crossing through, told instead to use the path.

But I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. And I need the shortest route to get where I’m going in case there’s a chance Fitz didn’t leave.

“Ma’am—”

I begin to run, my fisted hand holding the puzzle piece keeping Fitz’s jacket and my bag secure against my chest while I cross the grass, making my way past the Art Center, and onto the path that leads to the fields.

My head flings left and right. There’s no sign of Fitz. I haven’t given up total hope yet. Because if he’s where I think he might be, he’d be tucked out of sight.

I expect to come face-to-face with the chain-link fence that once surrounded the track and football field, but I find it gone. I guess after I left, there wasn’t any more riffraff to keep out.

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