Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

“Olena, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I had no idea things would get that bad. Those guys… look, I’ve handled it now and they won’t come after us again. I promise.”

I grimace at the reference to the robbery, remembering with visceral revulsion the feeling of that man’s hand covering my mouth and pulling me backward, my head wrenched into his chest.

“Sean, there is no us. I’m living here now, and I’m not coming back.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” He sounds frustrated.

“I’m listening to you just fine.” And what I’m hearing is garbage.

“No, you’re not. I’m saying we can work on things. We can be together. I’ve got it under control now. I’ll be better. Come on, Olena. Come home.”

“Sean,” I say, rubbing my temple, “you’re not getting it. I don’t want to be together. I’m done. I’ve moved on. I’ve got a job here now and—”

He cuts me off. “So, what? You think you can run away from the life we had together for three years? You’re just throwing that away? Like none of it matters? Like I don’t matter?”

“Sean, calm down.” He’s making me nervous. The phone slips against my sweaty palm. I readjust my grip and try to breathe slowly.

“No, fuck calming down. Fuck that. I love you, Olena. I’ll always love you. You can’t just ignore that and pretend I don’t mean anything to you.”

Feeling numb, I take a deep breath. I need to make him understand. “Listen. It wasn’t just the robbery. You’d been using for a while before that even happened and… things changed, okay? I don’t feel… I can’t be with you. You changed…”

I’m scrambling. I’m not making sense.

“I changed? What the fuck does that mean? How did I change? I know you didn’t like the drugs, but I thought… Are you saying you don’t love me anymore?” His voice is incredulous.

I close my eyes, bracing for impact. “Yes,” I say softly.

The line goes quiet. For a moment, I’m not sure if he’s still there.

“You know what, Olena? Fuck you. I gave you everything and you just… Fuck you. I can’t believe this.”

The call disconnects.

16

JUDE

“Happy birthday, Mom,” I say quietly, standing at the foot of the joint burial plot, cellophane crinkling under my grasp.

I lay the bouquet against the headstone and straighten up, rubbing my jaw. I’ve never been any good at talking to her—talking to them—when I’m here.

My eyes drift to my father’s headstone. “Hey, Dad. Happy… Saturday, I guess.” I shove my hands in my pockets and look around me. I feel awkward, like I’m talking to myself. Or talking to no one.

When I first started seeing my grief counselor, she had encouraged talking to them out loud. I tried to speak to them when I came to visit the cemetery in the beginning, but it never felt natural or comfortable, so, eventually, I stopped. Unless my brother, Miles, is with me, I usually prefer to visit in silence, remembering them quietly in my own way. I don’t believe in God or an afterlife but, if anything like that does exist, they’d know I was here. That I visited. That I tried.

Today, however, I’ve got more on my mind than usual. I find myself wishing I could ask my parents for advice. They were happily married for twenty-five years before the accident took them from us a decade ago; I’d bet money they could steer me in the right direction with Olena.

Just get over yourself and talk. I look around me, glancing over my shoulders to make sure I’m alone here. Finding the coast is clear, I take a deep breath.

“Well,” I start uncertainly, “I guess I wanted to tell you… I met someone. At work.”

I take another quick look around. Still alone. Just talk, man.

“She’s…” I trail off and smile to myself, realizing I don’t know where to begin. I know Mom and Dad would have liked Olena. I try again. “She’s beautiful. And smart. And funny. And possibly a little quirky.”

I smile again, looking down at my feet. Quirky in a good way.

“Steph says she’s got me good, which I guess is true. Anyway, I kind of fucked things up,” I admit quietly, furrowing my brow.