Page 102 of Pain in the Axe
My feet itched to move. I couldn’t be here anymore. In this familiar house filled with memories. I wanted to be with one person. My person.
I needed his comfort and his support. Things I’d never sought from another human being before now seemed as essential as breathing.
“Goodbye, dad,” I said, picking up the box. “I need to think for a while. Thank you for this and for finally being honest with me.”
Chapter 29
Chloe
The drive back to Lovewell was only twenty minutes, but I didn’t feel ready to take on the lonely mountain roads. The setting sun only made me more anxious. My mind spun. It was all a lie. He hadn’t given me up for his family’s company or to impress his dad. He’d loved me as much as I’d loved him.
I still couldn’t process it. My father and I had never been close, especially after mom died, but what gave him the right to make decisions for me? And to justify them the way he had? I had been twenty. Young, sure, but still an adult.
So much of my adult life had been built around that year. Mom’s illness, her passing, my siblings, and then Gus. Our love story and then the painful ending.
My villain origin story, as Karl called it. And I’d wasted precious years of my life just stewing in my anger, hurt, and trauma.
Gus had been my target. All my anger and hatred had been misplaced. I’d been cruel and dismissive, and he hadn’t deserved any of it. Yet he’d taken it, and he’d allowed me to yell and snub him without complaint.
Not only did I owe him an apology, but I owed him a real chance. At being together, at parenting. We’d lost so much, and we could never get those years back. The sadness that surrounded that truth, what could have been, weighed heavily on me. But there were new possibilities. This baby. A fresh start.
After leaving my dad’s, I’d stopped at the natural food store for more ginger products—the morning sickness was getting worse, not better.
The Main Street here was nothing like Lovewell. No small-town Americana. No pretty parks or wide sidewalks.
It was an old logging town with a highway that cut straight through. Gas stations, fast food stops, and a dollar store were the main attractions.
But tucked near the post office was a hidden gem. I’d grown up coming here with my mother for vitamins and fancy imported tea. Yes, it was sandwiched between a pawnshop and an empty storefront that looked like it had been overtaken by rabid raccoons, but this baby was wreaking havoc on my GI tract, and I knew I’d find relief among the natural remedies they carried.
My arms were full when I left the store. I’d found so many fun types of decaf tea, and I’d picked up treats for JJ and Karl. My heart clenched when I thought about them heading back to Seattle without me. We’d become a little family, and while I hadn’t made up my mind yet, I was feeling more and more like I wanted to raise my child in Maine.
As the sun began to set, I still wasn’t ready to head home. So I sat in the front seat of my car, eating organic chocolate and reading through the stack of letters Gus had written to me. Letters apologizing for forgetting about my mother’s birthday, letters begging me for forgiveness, letters describing how deeply he loved me.
After four or five, I had to put them down. It was just too much. I couldn’t rewrite the past. We’d been young and stupid, but deeply and profoundly in love.
And while I’d spent so much time angry and bitter about the loss of that love, I’d finally been given a second chance. So why was it so hard to put aside all the hurt? Why couldn’t I trust that he would stick around forever?
I needed to get myself together and drive home. At the end of the block, I spotted a trash can. So I gathered up my candy wrappers and used tissues and headed over to dispose of them.
My car was parked on the least sketchy side street I could find, but as I approached my car, I sensed eyes on me. I peeked over one shoulder, and my heart took off at a gallop. Shit. I was being followed by two men.
The man closest to me was short, with a protruding belly, and wore a baseball cap pulled low so his features were hard to make out.
I reached my car and opened the hatch, looking for some kind of weapon. I settled on a long plastic ice scraper. It was early September, so it was sheer luck that the rental company had left it there.
Hands shaking, I wheeled around, brandishing it. “Can I help you?”
The short man smirked while the other one sauntered over. He was tall and thin and wore sunglasses and a surgical mask. Interesting.
He held up his hands. His fingers were long and elegant, but his hands were wrinkled, like that of an older man. “You’re not in danger. I’m so sorry we startled you.”
Gripping the ice scraper tighter, I braced myself. I didn’t buy it. Every instinct in me was screaming that these guys were bad news.
“Just wanted to say hello.”
My entire body trembled, and I itched to run back to the main road, where I’d hopefully encounter other people. Instead, I stayed where I was, inspecting both men as closely as I could.
The shorter one had a ruddy face and a tattoo that peeked out of the sleeve of his shirt. It looked like some kind of evergreen branch. Holly, maybe?
