ME
Hmm. Conversation for another time.
LOREN
So you can dish it out, but you can’t take it, huh?
ME
Get some rest now.
LOREN
Same. Don’t run off and get married.
ME
Ha ha ha.
I think I lost Rosalind’s number.
I wait for text bubbles that don’t come. Then I wait a few minutes more just in case. But apparently, Loren’s done for the night. Which is probably for the best. Hopefully, she’ll be able to get some sleep. Settling back against the pillow, I picture her tired smile just before I left. And then earlier, the way her shoulders settled when her dad followed Noah down the hall.
Both Harlan and Loren count on the guy. And they’re losing him. Soon.
If she’d let me, I could make things easier for Loren. My ribs tighten at the thought. The woman will accept help for her father. But help for herself?
Not so much.
After another half hour of fitful sleeplessness, I admit defeat.
The treadmill’s calling my name.
I run for almost a full hour, keeping the speed cranked and the incline brutal. When the time’s up my lungs are burning, and sweat pours down my face. But my mind’s still racing. So I add ten more minutes.
In the end, I’ve blown through my longest Spotify playlist. My heart’s hammering, and I’m slightly dizzy as I stumble off the machine.
No one’s here if I faint, though.
One scalding shower later, my legs are jelly, and my stomach’s still full of stones. So much for exercise as therapy. Or a sleeping pill. I towel off, pull on a clean T-shirt, and finally do the thing I’ve been avoiding since I left Harlan’s house.
I listen to my mother’s message.
“Hello, son.”
Her voice is exactly as I knew it would be. Cool and precise. Calibrated to land without raising the volume.
“It’s been months since you accessed your trust. Unexpectedly, I might add. And the two of us have yet to discuss the implications. I’m afraid you’ve been avoiding the subject, Bridger.”
Yep. It’s been eight months, actually. And we haven’t spoken at all. About anything. I didn’t come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, either, but I guess you don’t care about that.
“If you intend to utilize your trust further, all conditions still apply. And I need hardly remind you about the date coming up. Or do I?”
I sit on the edge of the bed, head hanging. To help Sayla and Dex and Stony Peak, I deluded myself into thinking I could stay under her radar. Just dip in once or twice a year. Get in and get out, right?
Wrong.
“This is not a death sentence, Bridger. On the contrary. Marriage is a stabilizing institution that benefits everyone involved when done correctly.”