Sweet Dandelion

My phone buzzes and I yank it out of my pocket. It can’t possibly be him, not after all these months of unanswered texts. It’s probably my brother or a wrong number or—

Lachlan: You never read the letter.

It’s not a question.

It’s a statement.

And he’s right, I never did.

My body goes cold, a sweat breaking out over my body like a sticky second skin.

“Are you okay?” Ansel asks, noticing the change in my body language.

I look at him with tear-filled eyes, my hands shaking so much he takes my phone from me. He sees the text and a look of anger comes over his face. He puts my phone in his pocket and slings his arm around my shoulders.

“We’re going home, Meadows.”

I wrap my arms around his torso, leaning against him because my weight is suddenly too much to bear.

He’s right, I never read the letter, but it can’t possibly change anything.

Right?

Chapter Seventy-Six

I pack my clothes into my suitcase, trying to find a way to fit the items and knickknacks I’ve picked up along the way. Ansel watches from the doorway. He’ll be moving out of this place at the end of January since we already paid for the month. I saw his new place, it’s not nearly as nice, but he got a job at a local café and wanted to minimize his spending since he can’t live off his parents forever.

I joked that I guess he made more when he was dealing weed.

“Why did you sell weed?” I look up from my suitcase and he startles at my sudden question.

“What made you ask that, Meadows?”

“I was thinking about things.” And you know, trying to distract myself from the text Lachlan sent a week ago about the letter. The one I promptly tossed in the trash as soon as we got home.

I don’t know what made me do it, but I think getting that text from him after all this time infuriated me. He’d clearly been reading everything I sent, and because I said I was moving on he finally decided to give me a response.

I kind of regret throwing it away, but I can’t do anything about it now.

It’s gone, like whatever we were.

Ansel sighs, rubbing his stubbled jaw. The shadow of hair on his cheeks makes him look older. “I don’t know, I guess it gave me control over something. And the money was nice too.” He winks at me.

“You’re so weird.” I laugh, stuffing a t-shirt into my suitcase.

Ansel saunters over, picking up one of my bras. “Nice lace, Meadows.”

“Give me that.” I snatch the lacy bra back from him, shoving it under some jeans.

He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to miss you.”

I sigh, feeling the burn of tears already stinging my eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Come here, pretty girl.” He grabs me into his arms, holding me tight.

“Stop making me emotional.”

“Can’t help it. Girls just weep when I speak.”