“Oh my God.” My knees buckle, and Beau’s hold on me tightens to make sure I don’t hit the ground. But he can’t stop the roiling of my stomach, and I put my hand to my mouth to keep from being sick, but it doesn’t help. I get sick right here in front of them. Jacob tries to take a step to me, the tears now streaming down his face. “No!” I shout at him, holding up my hand to stop him from approaching me. Beau squats down beside me and hands me a handkerchief from his pocket. Grabbing the linen handkerchief, I hold it over my mouth.
“Kallie, let me take you somewhere, and I can explain,” he says, but I just shake my head, not listening to the words, and then I look at her. The woman who I accepted as a friend, the woman who I never expected would do what she just did. The woman who has taken away everything that I thought I knew.
“How could you?” I ask, and she just sobs in front of me, holding her hands folded in front of her.
“It’s not what you think,” she says, and I laugh bitterly, but the sob rips through me.
“You’re wrong,” I say. “It’s worse than I think.” I then look at Beau. “Can you take me home?”
“Kallie.” Jacob steps forward again and puts his hand on my arm, the same hand that just held my hand, the hand that made my stomach flutter every single time he touched me. Except this time, it’s like he’s burning my skin, so I jerk my arm away from his touch. “Please let me explain.”
“You slept with her while you told me you loved me!” I shout at him, the tears leaking out of my eyes faster than I can wipe them away. I don’t even notice the crowd forming around us. “You slept with her while you made plans with me about the future. Our future.” My voice grows even louder.
“Kallie.” Beau says my name softly, and I look at him.
“You knew.” Pointing at him, I say, “You had to have known. You guys are the three musketeers.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I didn’t know.”
“I don’t believe you,” I say, and then I look back at Jacob. “I hope she’s worth it.” I turn and make my way through the crowd. Out of nowhere, my brother’s truck turns the corner of the school parking lot, and he pulls up to the curb right where I am. I don’t know how he knew, but when he stops at the curb, I open the truck door. “How did you …?”
“Beau,” he says, and I nod my head while he drives off with the sound of Jacob shouting my name in the background. “He can’t find me,” I say to him, and he just nods. I lean my head on the truck door, closing my eyes and letting the memories of Jacob fade away.
Chapter Two
Kallie
Eight years later
“How much longer?” I look over at my best friend, Olivia, and then turn my focus on the dark road ahead of me. We’ve been on the road for over fourteen hours, only stopping to get gas and go to the bathroom while we grab some food.
“We are going to have to pull over,” I say. “I can barely keep my eyes open, and we still have twelve hours to go.” She takes her phone out of the center cup holder and unlocks it.
“There is a motel six minutes from here,” she says, “but I’m not sure they are even open. The last reviews are from two years ago.”
“What about a chain hotel?” I ask.
“There is a Hilton twenty-five minutes from here.” She swipes her phone and then looks at me. “It’s reserved.”
“Did you use your credit card?” I ask, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. The last thing I expected yesterday when I woke up was that my life would spiral out of control and I would be heading to the one place I ran from.
“I used one of the credit cards we bought.” She holds up the MasterCard gift card we purchased right before hightailing it.
I look over at her and think back to four years ago when we started working for the same magazine, just in different departments. One day, we had to work together on a project, and we just clicked. From that day, we became almost inseparable. She pretends to smile, but it doesn’t work.
“Fine, we can get some pizza,” I say and walk to the reception area. I give my name at the check-in desk and get the key card for our room. We walk to the elevator and take it up to the third floor.
“Fine, I’ll take it,” she says, and we get out of the elevator and then walk down the well-worn brown carpet. “This is not a four-star,” she mumbles next to me. I want to tell her that it is, but the peeling wallpaper will not help my case.
I insert the card into the reader, and the door unlocks when the light shines green. The smell of stale air fills the room, but when I flip on the light, it’s not as bad as I think we both expected it to be. The two double beds have white blankets on them. I step in, and the bathroom door is to the left. I flip on the light and see that the bathtub is a faded yellow color, and the white shower curtain has seen better days. “I call dibs,” Olivia mumbles as the door slams behind her. She kicks off her sneakers, then slides off her purse and dumps it on the small wooden desk in the corner.
She sits on the bed, and I watch her put her face in her hands. “I hate him.” Looking up at me, she has tears running down her face. “How could he do this to me, to all those people?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Do you want some wine?” Looking around the room, I wonder if there is a minibar in the hotel room. I spot the fridge in the corner underneath the television stand, and when I open it, the horrible smell makes me gag. “Well, that would be a no,” I say, holding my hand up to my nose to smell my shirt.
“The universe hates me.” Olivia gets up from the bed. “I’m going to take a bath.” She starts walking to the bathroom. “Or maybe not. I have no idea.”
“You go wash,” I say, “and I’m going to get the lay of the land.”
“Your Southern accent is coming out.” Olivia chuckles. “It took you two years to stop saying y’all.”
Shaking my head, I grab the key card I had thrown on the desk and walk out into the hallway. Taking the elevator down to the lobby, I ask the receptionist who checked us in if there is someplace close to buy wine.
“Not at this time of night,” she says. I glance down at my phone and see it’s nine p.m. We are definitely not in New York City anymore.
“Is there anywhere we can get something to eat?” I ask, looking around for any menus that might be lingering around.
“No, the Piggly Wiggly closes at eight during the week.” She smiles at me, and I shake my head.
“I assume you have vending machines somewhere?” I ask, looking around, and her eyes go big.
“Yes.” She walks around the desk to a room in the corner. “Here are the machines.” She points at two vending machines. One is filled with chips and chocolates, and the other has soft drinks.
“I think I’m going to need change,” I say, seeing that everything is seventy-five cents.
“No worries. If you want, I can open the machine for you and just hand you what you want.” She smiles at me, walking out of the room to get the key to open the machine.