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Broken Love Story (Love 3) Natasha Madison 2022/8/3 13:53:40

“So now I’m here, and I’m questioning everything. I have so many fucking questions, and the only person who can answer me is buried.”

“What if I don’t have the answers? What if no one has them?”

“Then I go on, but I need to make some sense of what he did. I need to know if I was the one who pushed him away. I need to know that no matter what I did as a wife, I didn’t fail.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Who the fuck put that shit in your head?” I ask angrily, so fucking angry I think the phone is going to snap in my hand.

“No one.” I know she’s lying. “Just, can you help me?”

I close my eyes while pinching the bridge of my nose. “What do you want to know?”

I hear her covers rustling again. “Before we do this, you need to promise me that whatever you tell me is the truth, no matter how much it may hurt me. I’m not searching for half-truths. No more. I need to know even if it hurts, even if I get mad, even if it’s not what I want to hear. I need to know.”

“Jesus.” I shake my head. “You can’t let sleeping dogs lie?”

She now laughs out loud. “He’s dead, so I’m not sure he gets a vote.”

The sound of her laughter fills my body with something, making me smile. “Okay, fine, what do you want to know?”

“How did they meet?” Simple enough.

“He was in town, I think working, and they ran into each other when he was walking out of the restaurant, and she was walking in.”

“Figures,” she says under her breath. “How long did they date before he proposed?”

“Shit,” I say, trying to think. “I’m not really sure. I want to say nine months, maybe a little bit more.”

“Did you like him?” she asks me.

“Very much. He was a brother I never had. When he was home, that is.” I stop myself. “I don’t mean home. I meant when he was here. His home was with you and his girls.”

“Thank you,” she says softly, “but I don’t even think he knew where his home was.”

I’m about to say something else when the alarm rings. “Shit, I have to go. We just got a call.”

“Oh,” she says quietly, “okay. Thank you for this, Blake.” She disconnects, and I run out of the room, getting my gear on as we are briefed about a kitchen fire that just started in a house. The owner came home from work and fell asleep with the oil on the stove. It’s two hours later when we pack up all our gear and head back to the station.

Shrugging my jacket off and stepping out of my gear, I pull my phone out of my pocket and see that I have a message. It came in right after we hung up.

Thank you for tonight. Stay safe.

I look at the time, and see that it’s almost two in the morning.

I answer her back, and I’m shocked when she answers right away.

Glad to know you’re safe.

I don’t answer, thinking maybe I woke her up, so I close my phone and head to the shower and then quickly crash once I’m done.

I dream of Frankie, I dream of the time she told me she loved me, I dream about the time we sat on the beach watching the water with her in front of me. Her hair blowing in my face. But when I lean down to kiss her, Frankie’s face doesn’t smile back at me. It isn’t Frankie’s lips I lean down to kiss—it’s Samantha’s.

The next day, I try to forget the dream while also trying to make sense of it. I try to convince myself it’s because she needs help, because she’s alone. But when I open the phone and text her, it isn’t about Eric, and it isn’t about Hailey, it’s about her. It’s about making sure she is okay.

I hope you are having a better day.

I press send and put it back in my pocket. I’m getting up and getting something to eat when it buzzes in my pocket, so I pull it back out.

I’m actually having the best day in a long time. Thank you for asking.

I smile, putting the phone away. That night, I don’t know why I expect my phone to ring, and I don’t know why I constantly check the time. I don’t know why I’m disappointed when I see it’s eleven thirty and no calls have come through. But then, my phone rings.

I shouldn’t call him. I shouldn’t want to call him, but he holds the answers.

After I hung up the phone with Blake last night, I lay in bed thinking about what he told me, thinking about the questions I still needed answered. I turned and drifted off to sleep but never fully fell asleep, so when the phone beeped at two thirty, it was no surprise who it was. I answered him and quickly fell back asleep because the morning would be here way too soon.