Page 170 of Just One More Thing

“She’s not coming back.”

I stare at her. My hand tightens around the coffee cup. “What do you mean?”

“She’s gone, Jake.” Her voice breaks. “She left late last night.”

The cup slides out of my hand and hits the floor.

Coffee splashes across the old wood boards.

I don’t look down.

I can’t.

Last night.

While I was lying in bed.

While I was thinking maybe she’d come over.

While I was waiting.

She left.

Again.

I hear Maddy saying my name, but it sounds far away.

“Jake,” she says sharper this time. “Honey, are you all right?”

I look down at the coffee spreading across the floorboards. Her coffee. The cup still rocking back and forth where it landed. The one Walt made blank because there wasn’t anything to write on a cup for this.

My chest feels caved in and too tight at the same time.

I turn and walk out.

I don’t remember The Green.

I don’t remember who I pass.

Only that I’m suddenly back at The Knuckle, sitting at the bar with both hands flat against the wood like I need to hold onto something solid.

Bethany looks up from the end of it.

“I need a drink.”

She doesn’t ask what happened. Doesn’t tell me it’s too early or it won’t help. Just reaches for a bottle, pours something amber into a glass, and slides it toward me.

I drink it in one swallow.

Nothing.

“Again.”

She pours another.

I knock that one back too.

Still nothing.