“I doubt it.”
“You think you know more about my failed relationship than I do?”
He shrugged, and picked up a few pieces of trash in silence. Ambling along the road without looking at me before finally speaking up. “Everyone always says their break-ups are complicated. In my experience, that’s bullshit. Either you grow apart, or you were never really compatible to begin with, or someone cheats. Ninety percent of all breakups are because of one of those reasons.”
He stabbed a can of Pepsi and then stopped walking so he could look at me. Waiting for a real answer.
“He was seeing someone else,” I admitted.
“Prick.”
“Someone named Tammy.”
“Every Tammy I’ve ever known is a fucking skank,” he replied.
“That’s what I said!” I stabbed my stick into the dirt and stretched my back. “I saw one of his texts. That’s how I found out. We were at a business dinner, and I just got up and left. Packed my stuff and started driving. Never even said goodbye.”
“That answers my question about the high heels and skirt you were wearing when you strutted into jail.” He shook his head. “That fucking sucks, Peaches.”
I gave him a weak smile. It felt good to have someone just listen. Not trying to offer advice, or tell me what I should have done, or going on about all the other fish in the sea. Justthat fucking sucks.
Sometimes that’s all a girl wanted to hear.
“And that,” Jayce said while wiping his brow, “is a good time to stop for lunch.”
Lunch. “Crap. Crap! I knew I forgot to do something.”
He stared at me like I was joking. “You had time to stop for coffee this morning, but not enough time to pack a lunch? Peaches, your priorities are all out of whack.”
I groaned and leaned against the car. “Eastland doesn’t have UberEats, does it? Or a restaurant that delivers?”
Jayce grunted like it was a joke. He fished around in his cooler, then tossed me a Ziploc bag. “Here ya go.”
I held the sandwich in my hands. “I can’t take your lunch.”
But he pulled a second bag out of his cooler. “I accidentally packed two today.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How does oneaccidentallymake two sandwiches?”
He pulled down the truck’s tailgate and sat on the edge. “If you don’t want it, toss it back in the cooler.”
I joined him on the tailgate. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for the coffee this morning.”
I bit into the sandwich. “Peanut butter and jelly?”
“Just like mom used to make.” He looked sideways at me. “Got a problem with that?”
“Nope. It’s good.”
Itwasgood, especially to a hungry girl who’d spent the morning picking up trash. I ate slowly, savoring the break in the work. When my sandwich was half empty Jayce pulled out a can of coke and handed it to me.
“Eleven hours down,” I said after a long drink. “A hundred and nine to go.”
“One hundred and twenty hours,” he mused with a shake of his head. The sun-bleached strands of his hair swayed back and forth across his face until he brushed them back. “Three weeks worth. You gonna stick around town the whole time? Atlanta’s a long way off.”
“We’ll see,” I replied. “I’m hoping today will be my last day.”