Page 179 of Just One More Thing

No matter where I sleep. No matter what jersey I wear. No matter how far I go.

Those people are my family.

But right now I need distance from the memories.

From the empty space she left behind in every room I walk into.

I wake up my phone, open my messages, then tap Ryan’s photo.

Wheels up.

See you in an hour and ten.

Thanks, Ryan.

Always.

Can’t wait to see my dog.

Get your own.

I look down at Hank.

He’s already asleep, face smashed into my leg.

I rest my hand on his back and look out the window one last time.

Blue Crab Bay is already gone.

CHAPTER 41

EMORY

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The elevator stops on eleven.

Of course it does.

I let out a breath, and it ends in a sad little sputter.

The woman standing in front of me turns around. She has soft gray hair, pearl earrings, and the kind of face that suggests she has raised teenagers, survived menopause, and once cried in a Publix parking lot for reasons no one had the right to question. She gives me a smile full of sympathy.

Apparently the heartbreak exhale is part of the universal girl code.

A man behind me clears his throat. “This is me.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I shift my grocery bag higher against my hip and flatten myself against the mirrored wall so he can squeeze past.

He gives me one last glance on the way out.

Sorry, sir. This girl’s heart is closed for renovations. Possibly condemned.

The doors slide shut.