“You didn’t. It’s just not a good time.”

“Right.” I nod. “I understand. I really do. It’s just that . . . I deserve better.”

He takes a step closer but I dance back.

He freezes and blinks. Something heavy moves behind his eyes. “You do. You do deserve better.”

The words aren’t unkind but they still hurt like a blade. “I’ve got to go.”

I step around him and he doesn’t stop me.

22

This idea that we are our own saviors, our own heroes. That’s hard, but also incredibly uplifting.

—Reese Witherspoon

Reese

The drive to Jude’s is a blur. I shouldn’t have looked back when I was leaving Fitz, but I did. I watched him in my rear view, his hands clenched in his hair while he crouched on the ground. Did his heart hurt like mine?

But he broke it.

It’s all his choice.

Yes, Abby is bruised and hurting, but she did it all to herself, and she’s pretending to be suicidal for sympathy and to manipulate Fitz. It’s a horrible, no good, terrible thing to do.

The realization doesn’t make me feel any better, only worse.

When I get to Jude’s, I immediately realize I can’t stay here. I can’t handle being in the room where we were so close, in the shower where he made me feel like a goddess.

I don’t feel worshipped now, I’m more . . . wrung out to dry. Discarded like four-day-old casserole.

There’s a physical ache in my body and this place doesn’t help. It’s just a reminder of being judged and decreed not good enough.

What if I’m never enough?

I pack my clothes and my most important box of books and get in the car to drive home.

The sun is setting as I head down Main Street. I pass the Frostee Freeze where Fynn and I had sundaes with Jude a few days ago. Ol’ Roy is at the H-E-B. I don’t bother waving this time.

I pull up in the drive on a cloud of dust.

The porch lights are on and Granny’s out front. With the shotgun set over her lap. Again.

“Do you sit out here waiting for me to show up?” I call while I’m walking up to the porch.

She spits something off into the side yard. She must be feeling ornery if she’s chewing tobacco. This doesn’t bode well for me.

“That jackrabbit’s out here again and he brought his friends. They’ve been pooping all over my flowers. You showing up is a coincidence. Lucky timing, I suppose.”

I walk up the steps. “I’m staying here tonight.” My voice doesn’t even waver.

She watches me with inscrutable eyes.

“You’re not gonna shoot me,” I say, straightening my spine and lifting my chin, like it might help.

She gets all squinty eyed, her lips pursed. “You sure about that, Tootsie Roll?”

I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. “If you’re intending to do it, get it over with quick then.”