Page 35 of Beyond the Stroke

So, after tonight, Rory and I will be going our separate ways.

The thought leaves me with a flicker of disappointment. For all the teasing and at times snarky banter between us, I’m not sure why the thought of not seeing him again bothers me. It shouldn’t.

Before I realize it, we’re pulling into the RV park.

“This is me.” I point as we approach my camper van.

I expect him to simply drop me off, but he pulls parallel to my van and cuts the engine before rushing to the passenger side tooffer me a hand. I pretend not to see it as I gather my things and hop to the ground. He shuts the door behind me and follows me toward my van.

This morning, my van had been nestled between two RVs but now there are empty campsites next to me. That’s the beauty of a campsite, the people are always coming and going, some are nosier than others, but no one ever gets too attached. I like the anonymity of it.

With a long day behind me, the sight of my cozy camper van gives me comfort.

After I graduated college, I’d sold anything of value to purchase the camper and renovate it. I’d traded a closet of designer clothes, shoes, and handbags for the used van and spent several months remodeling it to fit my needs.

To me, it represents independence and the freedom to choose my own path, wherever it takes me.

“Okay, well…bye.” I give a quick wave, ready to end this.

But Rory doesn’t retreat.

“The color is perfect.” He pats the side of the van, checking out the detailing even though it’s hard to see in the dark. “It’s very you.”

“How is it me?” I scoff, because it’s not like this guy knows anything about me. He knows I like pickles and dogs.

“It’s the same color as your eyes.”

I study the front of my van, wondering if he’s right.

“Azure. Light and vivid, like air.”

If that’s a line, he’s pulling it off with the sincerity of a Boy Scout. He holds my gaze and a rush of giddy anticipation swirls low in my belly, but I shut it down quickly. Nope. No attachments. That’s been my rule in every town. Coral Cove has captured my heart more than any other place I’ve been, but that doesn’t change my desire to stay free from any entanglements.

I need to tell Rory to leave. No, not just leave, but leave me alone.

I’m turning to deliver my speech when I notice the side sliding door to my van is ajar.

“What the—” I step forward, tentatively reaching for the handle.

Rory is right behind me. “Hold on. Did you leave the door open?”

“No,” I whisper. “I mean, it gets stuck sometimes and the deadbolt is rusted and won’t lock into place. I think the salt water corroded it. I was in a rush this morning and forgot to double check it.”

“Someone might still be in there.” He puts a protective hand out, then steps in front of me.

Edgar.

I rush past him because nothing could be more terrifying than not knowing if Edgar is okay.

“Edgar!” I call into the dark van.

My stomach sinks with dread, wondering what we’ll find. I pull the door the rest of the way open and my heart pinches. The small space, which I normally keep tidy, is a mess now.

Looking around, I strain to see any movement. Any sign that life is in here.

“Edgar’s gone,” I pant. My chest constricts, the severity of the situation threatening to kick off another attack.

Stay calm, Summer. Slow your breathing.

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