Page 107 of Real Fake Husband

39

CAL

LAST DAY

Sunday

The next morning brings rain and a sinking feeling in my stomach. Before I even get up, I know Josie isn’t here. I roll over and glance at the time. It’s barely seven, which means she must have gotten up and dressed super early, knowing I wouldn’t be awake.

With determination, I get out of bed and pull on the first set of clothes I can find. Blue jeans and a soft blue hoodie.

Sunday is the busiest day of the week for Josie, but hopefully she won’t be gone all day. I have all kinds of plans for the evening. First, I’m going to order a nice dinner with her favorite dessert. Then, when she’s happily eating, I’ll tell her that she belongs with me. Hopefully, I can surprise her with a new, big apartment. If she’s on the fence, I’ll use my voice to be persuasive. Then I’ll use other means. I’m ready and willing to “convince” her all night if I have to. Or, until Vance shows up, that is.

It’s crazy that I miss her already. She’s not even officially gone yet, and my heart feels like it’s going to fucking crack.

On the bathroom mirror, I find a sticky note:

Good morning Cal,

Two of the girls got sick, and I’m filling in.

My shift ends at 7:30 p.m.

Sorry! I’ll be home before we’re expecting the lawyer.

Josie

Goddammit. She literally ran away this morning. I don’t care if she’s a manager now and has a lot of shit to do. There’s too much to talk about, and there’s no way we’ll be able to hash it all out before Vance gets here tonight, not while Josie is hiding out at work.

As I march through the apartment, heading for the door, I pause long enough to find Josie’s things gathered in aneatpile in the living room.

Aneatpile?

What the fuck?

It adds fuel to the already-raging fire. She’s already packed, and she made sure to put everything in anorderlystack. Since when is this woman orderly? I glance at the couch—even the fucking pillows are neatly arranged. What the actual fuck? And why did she pack? If she thinks she can brush me off and move on like that, she has another thing coming.

No.

I’m not letting her go.

We’re good together. She knows it as well as I do.

I’m keeping her.

Fuck this.

What the hell is she still so fucking scared of?

Iget on my bike and haul ass to The Diner. It doesn’t open until eight. I can catch her before she starts her shift. But midway, I slam on my breaks and take the exit to the shop. I’m not going to push any more than I already have. I’m done reminding her over and over again of who she is—an artist dammit—and that her place is in my arms.

The rain is a cold drizzle, but I don’t feel it. I’m too fueled by adrenaline to realize I’m not even wearing a coat.

My shirt is almost soaked through when I pull up in front of the dealership. I get in before everyone else. We’re keeping an all-star team ready to handle the weekend rush. It’s a blessing that states like New York don’t enforce Blue Laws.

I move my bike into “the garage” and over to a smaller workstation in the corner I’ve had set up for my use, at least for the time being. There are shelves everywhere, for quick access to the tools I need. My hands are steady while my mind races, thinking of Josie and our appointment with Vance this evening. A couple staff members greet me, however, when they notice the look on my face, they quickly go the other way.

“How the hell are you?” Theo asks as soon as he gets in.

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