I need to buy a damn car.
I found one today that’ll work just fine. It’s in my price range, has low miles, is big enough to fit a baby in, but small enough that I’m not a pesky soccer mom in a giant SUV.
I think it’s a winner, but seeing as I have shitty instincts, I don’t trust myself to make the purchase without one of the guys checking it out. I need one of them to look under the hood and tell me it’s a good buy.
I round the corner of Kit’s street as Niall Horan’sThis Towncomes on, surprisingly drawing a fresh bout of tears to the surface. I slow my steps and take deep breaths. I’m done crying. I don’t want to cry anymore. I just want my life to even out. Like a buoy in the sea, I keep bobbing and swaying without direction. I want dry land. I want to find my feet. And I want to stop hurting over a man I never actually had.
Doing his duty with precision timing, Bean kicks me in the bladder and sends me moving forward at a brisk pace. I have to pee, and I need to pull my head out of my ass.
Time to grow up, Isabelle.
* * *
“Alright, Izzy.” Kit pops her head into my room a couple hours later. “Dinner’s ready. Come downstairs. We’ll talk.”
It’s go time.
I slam my textbooks closed and stand from my crisscrossed seated position on my bed. My leg joints pop and my back screams out to be stretched. I follow her downstairs and find Jack and Bobby hanging around the kitchen. Jack picks at his plate and sneaks food, so Kit slaps his hand as she passes. Though considering how much tension she and I bring with us into the room, it’s not much more than a tap.
I sit down in my usual seat across from Bobby, but surprising me, Kit takes the chair next to mine.
“Ugh…” Bobby groans and drops his head dramatically. At my smirk, he throws his hands in the air. “Why? What now? The last time my wife dumped me at this table to sit with you, you dropped a bomb.” He makes the puppy dog eyes at me. “My heart can’t take any more, Sissy.”
“Calm down, drama llama.” Kit rolls her eyes and picks up her utensils like nothing big is happening. “I’m allowed to not sit next to you, you know.”
His lips twitch playfully. “Actually, that’s not true.” He points his fork. “You made promises to always sit with me.” Then he turns to me. “Fine. Say whatever you’ve gotta say. Do it quick before I get heartburn. You women are going to kill me one day.”
His playfulness had me wondering if maybe Kit already told him. Maybe she gave him a heads up. Normally, he’d be freaking out by now. Bulging veins. Wide eyes. Whiny voice. Normally he’d be having a tantrum and demanding answers. He definitely wouldn’t still be eating. But he does. He forks roast beef into his gob and watches us like everything is fine.
Maybe he’s over my drama. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, since he uses all his worry up on Kit. Maybe he’ll be glad to see the back of me…
“I’m moving out.”
There. I said it. Quickly. Possibly too quickly, because his casualness turns to choking. “You… What? Why?” He drops his cutlery and wipes a napkin across the smeared gravy on his chin. “You don’t have to go, Sissy. Please don’t go.”
So maybe he does still care. Maybe I’m still a melodramatic asshole.
“I do have to. I’m sorry.”
“But why? Are we bothering you?”
“No, you’re not. You’re amazing. All of you.” I speak to Bobby, but then I look to Jack’s pale face and sad eyes. Because he’s feeling what Bobby feels right now, but he’s silent. “I’ve loved staying here. And I’ve really appreciated your help. I love you guys.”
“But?”
“But… I need my own space, B. I need a permanent home for Bean, not my brother’s guest bedroom.”
“That can be your permanent room, Sissy. Nobody’s pushing you out.”
I roll my eyes. “My brother’s spare bedroom isn’t a permanent home. Plus, you and Kit will want your space back eventually. This isn’t about you pushing me out. This is me saying I want my own space.”
I can’t tell him about Jim affecting my decisions, too. He needs to accept the excuse I gave him. I refuse to bring Jim into this.
“Are you sure? Can I come with you?”
I laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. No, you can’t come with me. I want to do this. Ineedto do this.”
“This sucks,” he grumbles. “I was really looking forward to you bringing Bean back here. I was getting baby fever and everything.”