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Fun. “Right. Thanks, Autumn.” She means well. I know she does. She sees me, and because she’s my bestie, she’s pretty sure I’m worth being seen. Little does she know, I’m perfectly happy hiding in my corner of the world, doing my own thing, and avoiding pain at all cost.
“Meg.” Her tone is a warning. “For real. What are you doing the rest of summer?”
“Um…” I blink, returning to the present, to my best friend’s question. Autumn has enough to worry about. She doesn’t need to worry over me too. “I’ve got plans…My fence needs a new coat of paint. I’m the lead teacher for the new kinder curriculum map project. And—”
“Meghan,” she says, full naming me. “I know you’re still kind of new to Love, but there isn’t much to do here, babe. I know because I’ve lived here my entire twenty-seven years of life. Get out of town.”
I laugh. Has she gone crazy? “Where would I go?” Besides, she never gets out of town.
“Anywhere! You legit have zero strings tying you down.”
Is that a reference to Kyle? I think that’s a reference to my pig-headed, not-so-nice, always-around ex. While we were dating, Autumn considered him one giant, gnarly, life-tangling string.
He might be the reason I moved to this tiny Wyoming town, but Autumn, my students, and the fresh air are the reasons I stayed.
“I told you, I have things to do. That curriculum map project—”
“Doesn’t start until July.”
Oh right. She knows all about that. “I’m also planting a garden this summer—” I start, but I don’t get far.
“You should have planted those seeds two weeks ago,” she says as her truck engine comes to life. “Go do something.”
“I’m also painting this chair I bought at a yard sale. It’s a big project.”
“So my hot little bestie is going to stay home, hands in the dirt, and painting?” she yells above the noise of her engine.
“Just the one chair,” I correct. “Well, and the fence.”
“Go do something, girl.”
She’s lost it. I like where I am. I like my little house and my little yard. And the fact that it’s small and private. Besides, I have nowhere to go.
Not to mention, I have a funeral to plan.
2
Meg
Chuck is officially wrapped in super crappy school paper towels, sitting in a shoe box on my desk, with shredded ABC worksheets surrounding him. The funeral will take place in my backyard. Guests will include myself and Autumn, via FaceTime.
Who knows? I might call Bonnie too. My sister is a sucker for animals. She’d join.
“Knockity-knock,” says a voice I know all too well. A voice that makes my blood run cold and my heart want to stop pumping. A voice I wasted two prime years of my life on.
I grind my teeth and tell my body to freeze. I’ve trained myself to have zero reaction when it comes to Kyle Wells. Zero. He deserves nothing. I gave that man plenty of time and tears.
No more.
“What are you doing here, Kyle? Who let you in the building?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare—with indifference. Because I am indifferent. I don’t love Kyle anymore. In fact, I consider myself incredibly lucky for escaping the clutches of that lying little loser.
And yet, my heart remembers the pain. Because as wrong as he is for me, and as grateful as I am to be done with him, there was a lot of pain. Which is why I like the comfort of my invisible life at the moment.
My ex sneers at my droll tone—though I think that’s supposed to be a grin. How did I ever find this man charming? How did I once proclaim to love him?
“I’m friends with Willow. She let me in.” He sets both hands on his hips, his tight, one-size-too-small black jeans not doing him any favors.
“Our summer secretary? How do you know her?”
