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And maybe I’m leaving my heart and soul behind, but other than that, there’s nothing else for me here.

Charley pulls up a few moments later, and after stowing my carry-on in the back seat of her SUV, I slide into the front seat and send her a smile. “Thanks for taking me. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. I’m happy to help.” She pulls away from the house, and I lean back against the seat.

Even driving away, Chase has a pull on me because I do the one thing I shouldn’t have.

I look back.

Chase stands on the front porch, watching us drive away.

And I promptly burst into tears.

TWENTY-ONE

chase

“Gimme another, Al.”

Al raises a bushy gray brow and leans on the bar, the requisite bartender towel draped over his shoulder. “How you gettin’ home, Hanover?”

“Home”—I point at him—“is a crock of shit. You mark my words.”

Nonplussed, Al says again, “How you gettin’ home, Hanover?”

I glare at him and dig my keys out of my pocket, tossing them on the bar. They clatter loudly on the well-worn, wood bar.

“There. Happy? Now, give me another Jameson. Double this time. And another beer.”

“I’ll get you a ride.” Al swipes my keys, not bothered by my little temper tantrum.

“Whatever. Where’s my drink?”

Al shakes his head and turns away. I’m a grumpy bastard most of the time, without having the reasons I do tonight.

Tonight, I’m just a straight-up prick, even to Al, whom I’m nice to any other time.

I’ve been a surly shithead to every soul unfortunate enough to cross my path since Eden left.

It’s been three days since she walked out.

But this time, I pushed her away.

That’s right folks, I got her before she could get me.

Too bad my whole motherfucking body hurts with a pain that seems immune to any type of painkiller.

The first two days, I spent inside a bottle at home. Linda had shown up, ready to clean up and do the job I pay her to do.

But when she tried to strip the sheets on my bed to wash, I yelled at her not to touch a fucking thing and sent her home.

I’m not ready for the scent of Eden to be cleared away. It’s all I have left.

It’s all I deserve.

When I woke up this morning, a.k.a. day three of purgatory, hung over like a motherfucker, shame spread through me for yelling at Linda yesterday.

I sent her a text, apologizing and giving her another week off with pay. I’m grateful she forgave me, but her messages conveyed how concerned she is about me.