Page 91 of Conflagration
“And now?”
“And now…I have a fiancé to get back.”
Alyssa whoops and cheers. “Yes! It’s about damn time!”
We say our goodbyes, and as I stare out at the Smoky Mountains, I know it’s time. Everything I said to Alyssa is the truth. I didn’t need to be alone to discover myself. I just needed to realize I already did that, and I only want to continue to do so with Branson.
Glancing at my phone, I see that I have twenty-one minutes until it’s time for another phone call. And this time? I’m going to answer.
MY PHONE has not rung once since I got off the phone with Alyssa. The first missed call, I shrugged it off. The second…a feeling of dread settled in my belly. By midnight, four calls and four text messages were missing and I started to mentally panic. I tried to force myself into bed, yet sleep seemed to be fruitless. It wasn’t until I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open that I finally dozed off, but even in my sleep, I was plagued with thoughts of him.
Tired of tossing and turning, I get up and make myself tea, settling in on the deck to enjoy my morning routine of watching the sunset. This morning, however, it’s hard to enjoy the way the sun brings all the colors of the trees to life. I’m too preoccupied thinking of Branson.
What do the missed calls mean? Has he given up? Is he done? Of course as soon as I decide to pick up the phone, the calls stop. My stomach roils, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. As I go inside to find something to combat my nausea, I catch a look at the date on my phone. Pulling up the app that tracks my period, I see the big, glaring “five days late” staring back at me. As I place the phone back on the counter, panic and excitement start swirling in my mind simultaneously, but I push the feelings back. There’s no way I’m pregnant. Aside from the two times early on, we’ve been protected. It’s probably just the stress of everything.
Right? At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
A twinge of disappointment pricks at my heart. I want this. I want Branson. I want to be his wife. The mother of his children. I just hope I haven’t waited too long. We can get through this. I know we can.
My phone rings, startling me. I stare at it suspiciously. On the fourth ring, I lurch forward and grab it, my heart beating wildly when I see Branson’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” I say cautiously, almost breathless. Silence greets me, and I pull the phone back to see if the call disconnected. It didn’t. “Branson?
“Baby?” His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine.
How have I gone this long without hearing his voice? Feeling his touch? This moment solidifies my feelings for him. I love him, and no matter how hard he tries to push me away, I won’t allow it. As soon as I’m back in his arms, I’m holding on as tight as I can and I’ll never let go.
“Yeah,” I choke out, tears filling my eyes. God, I’ve missed him.
“Fuck, baby, I didn’t think you’d ever answer.”
“You stopped calling.”
He sighs, and I can just imagine him running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to sleep since you’ve been gone, and well, last night, it finally hit me and I crashed.”
“I thought… I thought you were done.”
“No!” he exclaims. “Fuck no. I’ll never be done.” Relief washes over me, and it’s all I can do not to throw my stuff together and run out to my car to go to him. “Baby, where are you? I need to see you. We need to talk. I can’t do this over the phone.”
The feeling of relief is replaced by dread. What does he mean by do this? Suddenly, I’m not sure I want to do this. At least not just yet.
“I’ll be home tomorrow. We can talk then.”
Before I can stop myself, I hang up the phone and turn it off so he can’t call back, because even though he just said he’ll never be done, the implications of whatever it is he needs to say in person scares the hell out of me.
So much for finding my strength. I’m still such a coward, but if it means prolonging losing him, then fine. I’ll be a coward.
ALL BREATH leaves my body the moment I hear her sweet, hesitant voice on the other end of the phone. This was just a formality. I didn’t actually expect her to answer, and then she did.
And all too soon, she is rushing off the phone, hanging up before I even have a chance to tell her that I love her. I could wallow in self-pity, go back to the bottle, or just give up. Instead, it gives me the drive I need. For ten days, I let her be alone. That ends now.
DETERMINING ARIANA’S location took a little longer than I’d expected, and after the three-hour drive, it’s nearly dusk when I pull up to the small log cabin in the Smoky Mountains. Her green Mustang sits in the driveway, and I know I’m in the right place. Part of me is pissed that she came here without me, yet it gives me hope that, even if she wasn’t with me, this setting made her feel close to me. To us.
With a deep breath, I exit the car and knock on the door. My knocks go unanswered. Ever the impatient man, I twist the knob, groaning when it turns and opens. I’ll scold her another time for that. Right now, I’m a starving man and I need her to satisfy my hunger.
I look for her, but she’s nowhere to be found. The last place I check is the back deck, and that’s where I see her. After sliding the door open, I step out onto it. She’s lying in a lounge chair, fast asleep with a paperback next to her. My heart skips a beat as I study her.
How could I have let this woman go?
