Secret Desires (Roughshod Rollers MC 4)

Then I pause. There’s a letter in the pile that doesn’t look the same as the others. The address on it is handwritten and oddly familiar. It’s not very thick, but I can see big, looping letters written on plain paper through the thin envelope.

I feel like I should recognize this handwriting. But I can’t remember the last time I saw it. I frown at it and flip the envelope over, looking for the return address.

Polly Sanders

Polly? My blood runs cold. But, no, that can’t be right, the maiden name of the Polly I knew, who I assume went back to using it after our divorce, was Polly Truman, not Polly Sanders. But my mind is ticking, and, suddenly, I know where I’ve seen that handwriting before, and why it took me so long to recognize it. That’s Polly’s handwriting, and the last time I saw it was on the handwritten shopping list she gave me the day she disappeared on me.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, collapsing in the nearest chair, staring at the envelope.

Polly has written to me? Polly, whose last name is different now. Polly, who hasn’t made any attempt to contact me since I last saw her a month after Lily was born. Polly, who disappeared and abandoned both me and her baby girl.

Why the fuck is Polly writing to me?

My first impulse is to throw the damn thing in the trash. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. Once upon a time, when I was grieving and stupid, I came up with every excuse under the sun why Polly had left me, and lashed out angrily at everything except her. Eventually, though, I learned to square the blame on her shoulders, where it belonged, and now I can’t even think of her without feeling furious. Which didn’t matter, because the chances of her ever appearing in my life again are pretty slim.

Yet, here she is. I should throw this letter away. But I hesitate. I have no fondness left for Polly, but I can’t help but be insanely curious. She did such a good job of hiding from me that she convinced her entire family to refuse to tell me where she was. So why would she suddenly show up and ruin all that hard work?

I don’t want to know. But part of me needs to know.

So, despite my misgivings, despite knowing that it was probably a really fucking awful idea, I rip open the letter. I scan over it once, then a second time. Then I read it a third time, more and more incredulous at what I’m reading. Once I’m done, I drop it to the table and stare.

“What the fuck!”

Chapter Six

Georgia

I’m going to take it.

I’ve spent the last two days thinking about it. My boss told me to take all the time I needed, but there had been a hint in his voice reminding me that I didn’t have forever, after all. So I thought about it, weighing the pros and cons of taking this new job.

The pros are better pay and more recognition.

The cons, on the other hand, are leaving Ethan, leaving my home, not having any friends, leaving the job that I love and the people I enjoy working for and being in an unfamiliar place.

It’s ironic; the cons far outweigh the pros. Yet, I’m going to take the job, because once of those cons is also a very strange pro.

Leaving Ethan.

It seems ridiculous to base everything om wanting to tear myself, finally, away from Ethan. But, the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t help but think of this as an amazing opportunity. I can’t pull away from Ethan on my own. I’m not strong enough to do that. But if I took this job, I would be forced to move. Ethan will always be my best friend, and I’ll always want to be in his and Lily’s lives, but maybe a little bit of distance will be good for us both.

So, yes, I’m going to take this job.

I haven’t told anyone about it just yet. Part of me wants to call Susie and tell her that I’m taking her advice, which I’m sure she’ll be pleased about. I haven’t even told my boss my decision yet. But none of them have the right to be the first to know.

Despite everything else, Ethan has that right.

When I leave, I will be leaving Ethan and Lily to fend for themselves. I know that it’s going to make Ethan’s life a lot harder without me being there. I’m confident that Grant and Kyle will help, but Kyle is still working up the courage to ask Allison to move in with him, and Grant has Jessica and his own son to deal with. Neither of them will be able to do what I did, which was being available at almost any time if Ethan needed me. Lily is also going to be devasted; in a lot of ways, I’m a pseudo-mother to her. So it’s going to be difficult for both of them.

But I can’t think about any of that. As selfish as it might sound, I need to start living my life. I’ve been stuck in one place for so long, all because I haven’t wanted to leave Ethan’s side. I gave up hope, years ago, that Ethan will ever love me the same way I love him, but I still can’t tear myself away.

If I leave, maybe I can find someone else to love who will love me back. They’ll probably never quite replace Ethan. I’ve loved him too long and too desperately to ever quite forget that. But time and distance will make those feelings fade slightly, and become more platonic, the same way Ethan looks at me.

So, it’s scary, and I’m still not entirely sure I’m making the right decision, but my mind is made up. I’ll let my boss know and, when the position starts in a few months, I’ll leave for the city, casting aside all the bonds that have kept me in this place for so long.

I glance at the time. It’s almost nine at night. For most people, it would be too late to visit, but Ethan and I have made it a habit, even since we were teenagers, of visiting each other at all hours, even, on one memorable occasion after I had just been dumped via text when I was twenty, at three o’clock in the morning. So I know Ethan won’t mind if I quickly go around to talk to him about this. It’s also the perfect night for it, since Lily isn’t there and there’s no chance of her overhearing before I’m ready to tell her.

Now that I’ve made the decision, I need to get it off my chest as quickly as possible. As heartbreaking as it will be to have this conversation with Ethan, I can’t put it off. I’m not the type of person to allow something to hang in the air for weeks, after all.