Page 70 of Pink and Country

After promising Dahlia to clean up the mess in my head, I hung up and scrolled through the five text messages April sent me.

Monday:

HN, I’m sorry to bother you. Call me if you have a minute.

Tuesday:

June called and said you’re not answering your phone. I told her you were busy. She said you need to call her back ASAP.

Okay, no news for two days. Should I worry? Call me if you get my text. Or text me you’re alive. Kidding. Not kidding.

I’m sorry if I did something to upset you. I should’ve never tried to have sex with you the other night. It was dumb. I acted like a groupie, which I’m not, I promise. I got carried away in the heat of the moment. Hope we can still be friends.

Today:

Carter, I’m packing my stuff. You don’t want to be around me for whatever reason. Your team keeps calling my phone. They’re worried. At least let them know you’re okay. It’s fine if you don’t want to see me anymore. Your silence speaks louder than your words. Thanks for last weekend, and thanks for the song. I’ll cherish it forever. Maybe someday we’ll cross paths again. Goodbye, HN. By the way, it might or might not be Hot and Natty… Who knows? The mystery adds a little fun to our short-lived friendship. I wish you the best. You deserve it. You’re pretty amazing. Never let anyone tell you you’re not. Keep shining xx

By the last one, my heart had plummeted down my stomach. April blamed herself. She was so damn wrong. My only wish was to be around her. Not to push her away. I had no idea how to do this, and that’s what threw me into this anxiety-driven episode, to begin with. I wasn’t prone to anxiety when I was younger, but Jeff’s death triggered something in me. After he passed, the attacks began. Over the years, I tried therapy, meditation, and a bunch of other stuff that didn’t do shit to quiet my racing thoughts. Except for the breathing exercises, the only way to stay half-sane was to tire myself. Mentally and physically. Once tired enough, my mind turned off, and my body shut down too.

On the drive back from Nashville, I realized being around April was much more effective to calm my mind than any therapy. Her presence alone eased everything in me. It silenced the nagging voices in my head. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Now I wasn’t only mesmerized by the woman, I needed her too. My throat tightened, and I rubbed my hand over my face. How did I even fathom letting her go? Was I more insane than I thought?

April sent the last message over an hour ago.

If I didn’t do something quick, she’d go back home early to avoid me. Breathe in. Breathe out. April would leave. Green Mountain. Me. Forever. I scratched my forehead with the side of my thumb and shot her a text. If I hurried, perhaps I could catch her. The tightness around my heart increased. I had only one thing to do.

April, don’t go. I’m sorry. We need to talk.

I didn’t wait for her to reply; instead, I showered, changed, and drove back home.

April’s car was still parked in the driveway when I pulled in. She hadn’t left. I pressed my hand against my chest, resuming my breathing. Would she give me a chance to explain? Would she let me in, or had I lost her trust? I swallowed hard. The knots in my stomach multiplied.

Once I regained some composure, I squared my shoulders, straightened my back, and climbed out of my truck.

Pixie and I weren’t done yet.

15

April

I woke up, rested and with a wide grin on my face. Bernice bunted my leg as soon as my feet touched the hardwood floor, begging me for food. “Is that all you ever think about?” I asked as I lifted her in my arms, nuzzling her fur.

Downstairs, there was no trace of Carter. Was he awake? Cold had made it through the cabin’s wall. A shiver ran through me. The fireplace hadn’t been lit up in a few days. Whenever Carter woke up first, he always made sure to start a fire.

In the kitchen, I filled Bernice’s bowl with kibbles. “Here you go, girl.”

Not wanting to wake my host up, I tiptoed around the place and made some tea. Then I lit up a fire and stood in front of it, hugging myself, to warm up.

The sound of the doorbell startled me. Who could it be? I hurried to the front door, so it wouldn’t wake Carter up.

“Hey, April,” Dahlia said once I cracked the door open. “Where’s Carter?”

“Asleep. I think.” Jack glided through the open door.

“Mom, look, Uncle Carter has a cat,” he said, kicking off his boots.

I turned my head to face the boy and caught his jacket when he threw it off. “Her name’s Bernice. I think she’d like to have a friend.” Jack flashed me a two-thousand-dollar grin—reminding me of Carter—and ran after Bernice. I brought my attention back to Dahlia. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Carter’s not here. His truck is gone.” I peeked through the doorway to look past her. Carter’s black SUV was missing indeed. I didn’t remember him telling me about a meeting or some other place he needed to be first thing in the morning. Not that it was any of my business anyway. Carter owed me nothing. Dahlia must have seen the confusion on my face because she angled her body until our faces met. “He didn’t say anything to you?”