Page 39 of Until Presley

“I can’t do this. Please give him this letter. I have to go. Thank you.” She reaches for me, but I step back and rush out the door.

This changes everything. She’ll call him, and he’ll be here before I can get anything packed into my car. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face him yet. I know my heart will cave, and I’ll listen to his lies, just like I did before.

In the end, I call a service to arrange for my things to be picked up as I head to Miami. The four-hour drive takes me longer than expected because I have to pull over several times to dry my eyes. I shut my phone off thirty minutes into the drive. I couldn’t handle the constant ringing and text message notifications going off.

I have a small studio condo I bought when I was a junior in college because I hated staying in the dorms. I call my service to let them know I’ll be in later so they can get the condo ready for me. I had actually been contemplating selling it, but now I won’t need to.

By the time I pull into my designated parking spot, I’m not just physically exhausted, but emotionally drained as well. I grab the bag I packed at Ham’s and slowly stumble my way up to my condo. The loneliness hits me the moment I open the door, and the tears start flowing again. I lock myself in and walk past the small kitchenette to the main living space where my bed and desk are. I collapse onto the bed and wrap around one of the pillows as I cry myself to sleep.

There’s a pounding on the door, and I blink my scratchy eyes. I walk over and peek through the peephole. Clara is standing there, huffing. I only open the door as far as the chain allows.

“Turn your phone on, drama queen. The parents have been trying to reach you.”

“Fine.” I try to close the door, but she sticks her hand out to stop me.

“Told you, you couldn’t keep his eye for long.” She sneers at me, and I slam the door closed.

I look around but don’t see my phone. Then I remember the last place I saw it was on the passenger seat of my car. I wait a bit longer, hoping Clara is gone before I make my way down to the parking lot. Sure enough, there’s my phone, exactly where I left it.

I turn it on, and it instantly blows up. I text my father first.

Me

Got your wish. I’m in Miami. I’ll call you on Sunday.

My phone rings, and I don’t bother looking at it before answering, sure it’s my father calling to gloat.

“Presley, where are you?” Ham’s voice breaks through the line. He doesn’t sound angry, just worried. My heart clenches for a moment before I can respond. “Sprite, please talk to me. I’ve been so worried about you.”

“Why? Why didn’t you just break up with me instead of cheating?” I cry, breaking down before I can lock myself back in my condo.

“What are you talking about, baby? I would never cheat on you. I’m in love with you. Don’t you get it?”

“No. Don’t taint those words with this. I can’t talk to you right now. I need time.” I hang up. I send him the picture as proof of his lies, and when he responds back, I’m not prepared.

My Man

That’s fake.

My Man

I didn’t do that.

My Man

I would never.

I block his number, not putting up with his lies. I have to prepare for classes to start— and to be around Clara again.

Ham

The relief of hearing her voice doesn’t ease the worry. She’s out there alone, and someone sent her a doctored photo of me. I look at the image over and over, scrutinizing it for flaws. I’d never let another woman sit on my lap. Presley is it for me. She’s been it since the moment she blew me a kiss.

The house seems so empty without her. I sit on the sofa, staring at the touches of her around the room. One of her backpacks with the sharks fromFinding Nemois hanging from the hooks by the garage entrance.

“Hijo, don’t sit here. Go get our girl back.”

“She asked for time, Mom. I need to give her the time to realize I’d never cheat on her. If I don’t, she’ll always wonder, and I never want her to doubt my love.”

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