Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
No, I don’t think I could’ve. Not after knowing Wade hooked up with her as soon as I asked for a break. I just needed some time to figure myself out. I don’t think that is too much to ask of your boyfriend, to give you some time so you can find yourself.
Except I didn’t.
I told the man I love that I wanted a break from us. I never bothered to explain myself because I listened to those so-called friends of mine and didn’t give Wade a chance. While he cried and begged, I never listened to one word and hung up on him.
“What a bitch,” I say to the interior of the car, wishing like hell it could judge me. Someone needs to tell me I made a mistake years ago or that I’m making one now. Someone, not something, because my heart is doing a stand-up job pointing out that it feels like it’s breaking all over again.
I rub the spot in the middle of my breasts, hoping to ease the ache, but it doesn’t help. In fact, the pain increases and forces me to let go of the sob building in my throat. I have no choice but to let the tears flow. But first, I turn on my IMW playlist. No one, not even Leslie knows IMW stands for “I’m Missing Wade.”
As soon as the first song comes on, I let the tears flow. Years of anguish, sorrow, and longing come flooding out as I merge onto the highway. I stay in the far right lane and follow a safe distance behind the car in front of me. I’m not in any hurry to get nowhere because that is where I’m going. There isn’t a destination in mind. I’m driving until I can’t drive anymore or until a sign tells me where I should go.
Each song brings back a memory. From the time I tried to tell him through a song that I wanted to have sex with him. I kept playing “I Want Your Sex” by George Michael on repeat. He never said anything until we were in his car one night. He’d driven us out to his grandparent’s property, away from Magnolia Grove. As soon as Wade turned on the song, I knew he’d been listening. That night, everything changed for me. For us.
Wade and I were close before, inseparable. After we gave each other our virginities, we became one entity. There was no Wade without Lemon. No Lemon without Wade.
Somehow, during high school, we managed to keep most of our friends. But we never went anywhere without each other or with at least meeting up at some point during the night. I was madly in love with him and had every intention of marrying him.
Wade felt the same way. Of this, I have no doubt.
Love wasn’t enough to keep us together though, and it definitely wasn’t enough to keep his pants zipped. Drunk or not, he knew what he was doing when he took Ana to his room.
My stomach growls. I look at the clock on my dashboard. Not once, but twice. I’ve driven for hours, seemingly to nowhere. I glance at the next service marker which says there will be gas, food, and coffee. The three staples when you’re running away from your problems.
At a quarter of a mile to go, I signal to get off and drive until I see a large service station. It’ll be one stop shopping for me. While I wait for my tank to fill, I pull up the map application on my phone to see where I am.
“Florida? When did I cross the state line?”
“Did you say something?” an older man asks from the pump behind me.
I shake my head. “No, just talking to myself.”
“Better watch it. Someone might think you’re talking to them. Then you get unwanted attention.” He nods at me.
He’s right. I need to be careful with what I say out in the open. It’s one thing to yell at myself while I’m driving. The windows are up, and no one can hear what I’m saying. Out here, where people lurk is a whole other story. Honestly, I know better. My father, Wade, and his dad all taught me car safety. If I were to break down on the side of the road in town, I know to call Murphy’s Garage, and someone will come get me. Out here—I have no idea.
I look down at my phone and scroll through my contacts, pausing at Wade’s name. Until now, I never realized there was a star next to his name. He’s listed as one of my ICE contacts—in case of an emergency— so someone can call him if needed. Despite us not being on speaking terms, I know he’d do what’s right. He’d take care of me if need be.