Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(161)

This was Skip, I didn’t know him very well but I knew him enough to see that.

I nodded.

Sam wouldn’t like that but whatever. I’d never know. Sam said if it was all or nothing and it was my decision, he meant it.

I leaned in and kissed Skip’s cheek.

Skip surprised me again by folding his arms around me and giving me a tight hug.

I hugged him back.

“See you at the Shack,” he muttered gruffly in my ear.

I hiccoughed to swallow a sob.

Then, not looking back, I got in the car and gave the driver instructions. He did as he was told, waiting for Skip’s pickup to clear the drive, he followed and stopped.

I hit the remote.

The gate closed.

I put the remote and keys in the padded envelope, sealed it, got out and ran to the postbox mounted at the side of the gate. I shoved it through. Then I got back in the car.

I really didn’t want to, I really didn’t, I needed all my energy but as the driver drove away, I managed not to look back.

But I didn’t manage not to cry.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tough

Three weeks and one day later…

I walked on the wet, uneven sidewalks. They were wet but it wasn’t raining.

For once.

I had not noticed London was foggy but it sure was wet.

As I rushed along the sidewalks, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. It was freaky weird and totally stupid. No one was watching me. But as I went, twice, I turned my head to scan my surroundings.

There were a sea of faces but no one was looking at me.

I rushed because I was late and I rushed because I didn’t want to get caught in rain. I had an umbrella but I’d moved out of the residential area of Kensington where Celeste and Thomas lived and into the area of Kensington where the sidewalks were rife with people. It was already a struggle negotiating the populated streets, it was a pain in the ass to do it with your umbrella bumping against and catching on everyone else’s.

Trust me, I knew this and I’d only been there a week but I still had plenty of experience.

I left Memphis behind with Mom and Dad and took off. This was, I knew, because there was a possibility Sam was back in North Carolina and I didn’t want him to come after me. I also didn’t want to be in Indiana thinking he’d come after me when he wouldn’t. He had called in the time I’d been away; he’d done it three times. All three times, I’d let it go to voicemail then deleted his messages without even listening to them, knowing it would undo me (more) if I heard his voice especially his voice coming at me not knowing we were over. I figured, with Sam, it would be the latter and he wouldn’t come after me. He might not like it and I knew he cared about me enough really not to like it but he’d accept my decision.

That hurt. It shouldn’t but it did.

Then again, everything about losing Sam hurt.

Since Sam left me, I struggled with my decision. I wondered if I didn’t give it enough time, enough effort, enough patience, my mind consumed with what I might have tried, what I could have done to break through.

But lying in bed every night, tears sliding from my eyes, I knew. I knew that if Sam could see me come home from my long walk on the beach and know I came to the conclusion I came to and still not give me what I needed, he’d accept this. No amount of time, effort and patience was going to give me all of Sam.

I also gave a serious amount of headspace to considering if I should just take Sam as he could give himself to me. This was harder to come to grips with. What he gave would be enough for any woman much less me who only had Cooter as a comparison.

But something in my heart was telling me it wouldn’t work. Resentment would build. Ugliness would form. I didn’t want what Sam and I had to move in that direction. That would hurt worse.

And, bottom line, walking out on your woman to do whatever it was he intended to do without explanation, even minimal, well, that shit was not right.

So there I was, in England, with my friends, discovering new things, in the loving company of Celeste and Thomas, trying to mend my heart.

But at that moment, I really didn’t want to be out on the streets doing what I was going to be doing but Celeste encouraged me to do so. Then Thomas did.

I was at the Tate Modern museum the day before when I met him. We struck up a conversation. He heard my accent, I told him I was in London for a few weeks, he told me he’d lived in London for thirty-three years and then he suggested we should meet for coffee so he could tell me what to see that tourists didn’t normally see. Before I knew what was happening, we had plans to meet for coffee the next day.

I wanted to stand him up. But when I told Celeste about it, she encouraged me to go. Then she told Thomas and he encouraged me to go. Since it was Celeste and Thomas, they were wise, they cared about me and I cared about them, I really couldn’t say no.

And anyway, I didn’t have the strength left to fight them on it so there I was, going.

When I got to the area he told me the café was, I got a little lost. I was about to give up (and, truthfully, I didn’t try very hard before deciding to give up) when I saw the café.

Damn.

Right. Whatever. It was just a cup of coffee with a guy I met at a museum. And anyway, I wanted to see the London not many tourists got to see. Even Celeste and Thomas hadn’t been living there long enough to show that to me.