Chapter 4

After I was discharged, I went home, packed my things, and moved out.

Once I'd blocked Evan's number, he couldn't reach me, so he went to my parents instead.

My mom tried to talk me out of it.

"We watched Evan grow up. He's a good-hearted boy. There isn't a soul in our neighborhood who doesn't like him."

She was right. Everyone said Evan was a good guy.

That was why I'd agreed when my parents set us up, and why I'd ended up marrying him.

It was only after the wedding that I realized being married to a saint was the dumbest thing a woman could do.

I'd made up my mind, and eventually my mom stopped pushing.

What I didn't expect was for her to have Evan pick me up the next morning for the drive back to my hometown over Memorial Day weekend.

When I got into the car, I saw there was someone else inside. It was a woman I'd never seen before.

Seeing me look at her, Evan explained nervously.

"Mara, this is Erica. She's new at the company, and she's from your hometown too. She heard we were driving back and wanted to come along.

"It's really hard to get a bus ticket over a long weekend, so I figured we could give her a ride since we're going that way anyway. Is that okay?"

I scoffed.

"Whatever. It's your car. Let whoever you want ride in it. We're getting divorced anyway. You don't need to run this kind of thing by me."

Evan opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it.

We hadn't been on the highway long when my phone rang. It was an older lady who lived next door to us back home.

"Mara! Your grandpa got hit by a car outside the market! They've taken him to the county hospital!"

My blood ran cold. Grandpa had raised me, and I was closer to him than anyone. I couldn't bear to think about what I'd do if something happened to him.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to Evan, tears streaming down my face. "Drive faster! My grandpa's been in an accident!"

Evan's face changed, and he floored the gas.

"Don't panic. I'll speed up. If we skip the rest stops, we can be there in three hours."

But Erica, who'd taken the front passenger seat, pressed a hand to her stomach, looking uncomfortable.

"Evan, I'm so sorry. My stomach's been hurting this whole time. I was holding out for the rest stop. Or you could just drop me off at the next one, and I'll get my own ride."

Evan thought for a moment. "It's fine. We'll stop at the next rest area. I'll drive faster afterward and make up the time."

That stop took fifteen minutes.

We hadn't gone far when we reached the next rest area, and Erica clutched her stomach again. "I've got diarrhea. I need to go again."

Evan pulled over again.

With every minute that ticked by, I was going out of my mind.

I couldn't wait anymore.

I shoved the car door open and ran, crying, toward a highway patrol car parked nearby. I was going to ask the troopers for help. I had to get back to see my grandpa.

I'd almost reached it when my phone rang again.

"Mara, honey, I'm fine. The young fella who hit me was a good kid. He insisted on bringing me to the hospital for a full checkup. Doctor says there's nothing wrong with me, so don't you worry about me!"

At the sound of Grandpa's strong, steady voice, all the strength drained out of me. I sank to the ground and sobbed.

A few minutes later, I was back in Evan's car.

Evan tried to comfort me. "See, Mara? I told you your grandpa would be fine."

I didn't say anything.

The car was completely quiet, and Erica's stomach didn't hurt again.

When we reached my hometown, Evan stayed true to his good-guy routine and dropped Erica off first.

Her parents even came out of the house to thank him.

Evan got back into the car beaming, clearly pleased with himself.

"Okay, Mara, where to? Is your grandpa still at the hospital? Should we go pick him up first, or head straight home?" he asked, switching the destination on the GPS.

I looked straight ahead and calmly answered in three words.

"The county courthouse."