Page 121 of The Wild Card

“Hey.”

We stand there in the hallway, three feet apart, a canyon between us.

“Going to Oklahoma?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“More work on the cabin?”

“Yeah.”

She nods slowly. “I’m, um. I’m going out.”

“I figured.”

Something flickers across her face. Pain, maybe. Or maybe just awkwardness. I can’t read her the way I used to—or maybe I can, and I just can’t let myself acknowledge what I see.

“Crew—”

“Have a good night, Emmie.”

I turn and walk out before she can say anything else. Before I can do something stupid like tell her she looks beautiful. Before I can ask her not to go. Before I can drop to my knees and beg her to give me another chance I don’t deserve.

I load up my truck and pull out of the parking garage without looking back.

But I see her in the rearview mirror, standing in the lobby doorway, watching me leave.

I drive to Oklahoma with her face burned into my retinas and her name lodged like a splinter in my chest.

Work. Gym. Run. Cabin. Repeat.

This is my life now.

This is what I chose.

I wonder how long it takes to stop loving someone.

I wonder if I’ll ever find out.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Roadside Assistance

Emmie

My car dies on the corner of Lawton and 4th.

Not a slow, graceful death—no warning lights, no sputtering. Just… nothing. One second I’m driving, the next I’m coasting to the curb with a dead engine and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I try the ignition. Click. Click. Nothing.

“Come on,” I mutter. “Come on.”

Nothing.

I check my phone. 8% battery. Perfect.

I call Sadie. Straight to voicemail. She’s probably on a shift.