We take the man to the station and book him. The only part about this that sucks is the paperwork, but it’s worth it to see a man like him behind bars.
No one should have to deal with that kind of person.
My smile slips from my face when I think about the one person I would share this with, the same way it does whenever I want to tell him something or share a piece of my life. It feels like he was just a dream, and I was the fool who fell for him.
It’s been seven months since the night I essentially married him, and the only contact I’ve received is one letter, one letter (presumably) from Liam saying he was trying his best to get to me but had unfinished business to take care of so would be a little longer. I don’t know what it meant, and there was no return address on the envelope, no way of contacting him back.
The letter was marked with an L, and that was it. No I miss you, no I’m thinking of you. Nothing.
I sit by my locker and stare at my phone, scrolling through the contacts. Finding one I forgot about, I hit call without thinking too much about it. I bring it to my ear and hear an automatic voice say, “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Sighing, I end the call and hang my head. I guess Ford is gone too.
I think about moving on, and I’m trying to. My life is good right now, and my job is excellent. I feel like I’m finally doing something rewarding with my life, and despite the fact that the man I love is out of reach, despite not knowing when or if he’ll ever pop up again, life could be worse.