Page 86 of Crash
“Vee, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Please don’t tell me. I know enough, and if I knew everything…” I hissed, my throat feeling tight. “I know Ash gave him what he deserved, but if I hear it…” I swallowed hard. “If I hear it, I will want to hunt the asshole down and finish the job.”
“Okay,” she squeaked.
“I’m not sure when I’ll get time to come back and see you,” I said. “Not until my run is over this season.”
“When is that?”
“At least three or four months.”
There was silence, and if I was there with her, I would be able to tell if she was crying or not. I’d be able to comfort her, but I was all the way up here.
“I know it sucks, Vee,” I said. “But it’s only for a little while.”
“But what happens next year? And the year after that?”
She had a point.
“I just—”
“Don’t even say it,” I interrupted. “I want you. Just you.”
But fighting was my dream, and I didn’t know at what point the two could combine. Violet couldn’t come to Sydney. It wasn’t like she didn’t wantto,it was because she wasn’t able to. Her anxiety was holding her hostage, and I didn’t want to push her to breaking point. I couldn’t be that guy who took and took and never made a compromise.
“And I want you,” she replied. “More than anything.”
I smiled to myself. All these years thinking about her and now, we had each other. I’d fantasized about what it might be like, and it’d lived up to all my expectations. She had her problems, but didn’t we all? We would work through them, just like we’d been doing. Then and now, it was all the same.
“I better let you get back to it,” she murmured, her voice sounding flat.
“You sure? I don’t mind.”
“It’s okay. It’s getting late. I can text you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay.” It was my turn to feel deflated.
“Bye.”
Watching the call disconnect, I felt like throwing the stupid phone across the room.
Then and now?It wasn’t the same at all.
Thirty-Two
Violet
Dr. Ormond had her therapist’s face on tonight.
It was great to still have someone to talk to now that Lincoln had gone back to Sydney, but she wasn’t anywhere near as handsome. She was tapping her pen against her notebook, regarding me with a thoughtful expression, which meant she was trying to work me out.
“How are you feeling now that Lincoln is away?” she asked, reading my mind.
“He’s been gone almost two weeks now,” I replied. “It feels like an eternity.”
“I know we talked about little steps,” Dr. Ormond said. “You’ve taken quite a few and some leaps as well.”
