Page 50 of Home Town

“Jeezus, Josie.” He ran a hand over his face.

“Oh, did I embarrass you? You’ll live.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll live,” he mumbled.

He’d live through the embarrassment. But possibly not through her date Saturday with Kirk. Because suddenly Josie didn’t seem like just a good time he’d had one summer years ago when he needed to escape reality.

Now it felt like she was something much more. That maybe back then he should have considered more with her.

How bad would long distance have been? Someone to write to. Share thoughts with. Commiserate with?—

Sext with. That could have been nice. Could still be nice now.

Only now might be too late.

Chapter Twenty-Two

With Quinn and Bailey in the city for the day, Kirk done with the lawn, and Corey gone back home, the quiet and the solitude in the house gave Josie too much time to think. Thinking eventually turned into self-reflection. And eventually into a kind of mental self-flagellation.

She kept reviewing the conversation with Corey. The words he’d spoken before he’d gone back across the lawn to his mother’s house. The things he’d told her.

What even had that been? A confession? An excuse?

I thought we were on the same page.

We weren’t even in the same book.

She remembered the dark expression on his face the day he’d gotten home from his base right after his father’s death.

He’d arrived just in time for the funeral and all that came with it. The endless stream of visitors dropping by the house with food and trite words. All vain attempts to bring the family comfort during a time when none was possible.

She’d found him outside her own parents’ house in the backyard sitting on the old swing that her father had hung for her and Quinn. That had still hung from that tree that grew between their two houses even though she and Quinn were too old to use it. Hadn’t used it for years.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, jumping up from the swing like he’d been doing something wrong.

He’d changed out of the dark suit he’d worn to the funeral that she and her family had attended. Changed into jeans and a T-shirt that made him look just like he had in high school—except for the darkly haunted expression.

“No, it’s okay,” she’d said. Wanting to make him laugh, she’d added, “That old rope might break and leave you lying on the ground on your butt, but otherwise, I mean, feel free.”

He’d actually smiled at her then. A small smile that didn’t last long, but it was still a smile and she’d caused it.

That began Josie’s quest to cheer up Corey. To make him smile as often as she could during those two weeks the Navy had allowed him for bereavement leave—or whatever it had been called.

It wasn’t long after that night that talking and joking turned into much more. And it was everything she’d ever dreamed— Her and Corey. Together.

If I’d known… How could he have known? She hadn’t told him he was her first.

Hadn’t told him she’d given him her heart back when she’d been fourteen years old, creeping behind the curtain of her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Hadn’t told him she’d gone into that physical relationship with him believing it was the start of something so much more. She’d envisioned dating, and marriage, and kids. A future together.

So he’d broken that heart she’d given willingly, but secretly.

She’d hated him for a decade. Nursing that broken heart, not to heal it but to make sure she never forgot the pain. Preserving the memory of the misery so she’d never be in a position to let herself experience heartbreak like that again.

But looking back now as the sun set outside and she’d yet to turn on any lights, in the growing dim of the house, she couldn’t hate him anymore.

All he was guilty of was not knowing what she’d been thinking and feeling but hadn’t told him. And that was her fault.

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