The Imperfections

Putting my hand back on the wheel, I sigh and look at the shitty screen door hanging off her house. I’m tempted to bring my tools over and fix the damn thing, but I ignore the impulse and look over at Alyssa.

“Good luck, kid.”

Her cute little nose wrinkles up involuntarily when I call her that. Her annoyance was the desired effect, so I’m pleased to have hit my mark. Rolling her eyes, she pulls the lever and shoves the passenger door open.

“Good luck, old man,” she shoots back before climbing out of my truck.

I try to curb a small smile, but even when she’s pissy, I like her.

I watch her walk to the front door without looking back and try not to let dread swallow me up when the door opens. Even from here with the truck door closed and the window up, I can hear the squawking of her family coming from inside. It’s a bright, sunny day, but as she slips into the darkened house, it feels like I’m sending her back to someplace bad, and I don’t like it.

I don’t know why it feels so much like I’m abandoning her. The girl was never my responsibility to begin with, and I made her as good of an offer as I could. Hell, even if she took me up on living in the cabin, it would put me in a potentially awkward situation with Bri finding out, but when I see Bri and the boys, I almost always go to their house. Bri seldom ever comes to my place—in fact, no one ever really comes to my place, so just Alyssa living in my cabin might be easy enough to keep quiet.

Even if Bri and the boys did ever decide to stop by, the cabin’s not up by the house, and I don’t see why Bri would ever even look at it. Even if she did, I could tell her I rented it out and I wouldn’t have to explain who I rented it to.

I throw the truck in reverse and back out of her driveway rather than sitting here like an asshole.

Having figured I might feel a little blue after I took her home, I waited until I could head to work straight after. I’m still about an hour early, but I’ll find something to do to pass the time.

At the end of a long, shitty day, I go home alone. Only thing that takes the sting out of it a little is Scout running over to lick the shit out of me.

Rubbing his belly as he wiggles against me, I remark, “You’re always happy to see me, aren’t you, boy?”

More licks, more wiggling and wagging in response.

I take Scout in to feed him and consider making myself a sandwich since I didn’t have time to eat dinner, but I ultimately decide it’s too much work and head upstairs to bed.

Even though I know she’s not here, I find myself looking around for her.

My gaze catches on the record player. The place is too quiet. I normally like the quiet, but tonight it doesn’t feel peaceful. It feels empty.

I ignore that foreign thought and strip off my clothes, then climb into bed alone.

After a few nights with Alyssa in bed beside me, this feels empty, too. I stare up at the ceiling for several long minutes, then I roll over, grab my phone off the nightstand, and check for a message that isn’t there.

Unlike her and fucking Theo, we don’t have a thread of messages she’ll hoard long after she should’ve deleted them. I gave her my number, but I didn’t take hers, so I couldn’t message her even if I wanted to.

I do want to, so I’m glad I don’t have her number. No good can come of that, and it wouldn’t be fair to her. Since I decided to spare her, I need to let her get on with her life.

Replacing my phone on the nightstand, I resolve to stop thinking about Alyssa and go to sleep. Seeing as this was my life every day before I met her three days ago, it should be easy.

Easy isn’t the word I’d use to describe my first night without Alyssa.

But I’ll live.

I always do.

I knew Alyssa Walton for all of three days, so even though letting go of things I’ve lost isn’t my specialty, by the time four days have passed without her, I tell myself I should be good and past her.

Problem is, I keep thinking about her…wondering what she’d be doing at home if she were there while I’m working, catching Scout’s gaze and wondering if he misses her, too. The cherry on top comes Friday evening when I’m sitting in a corner booth at the bar, dipping into my own supply, and my worthless fuck of a brother-in-law walks in.