51. Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-One

Toby

I stare at the dimmed screen, its blankness mocking me.

No missed calls. No returned texts. No notifications begging for my attention.

And still … I hit the phone icon, the trail of Anna's number filling every spot in the log.

It rings, just as it has every night for the last two weeks, with no answer.

Part of me sours with each call that goes unanswered. Like a niggling in the back of my mind that maybe Anna doesn't feel the same way I do. That maybe her chest doesn't ache at the distance like mine does. That her heart doesn't speed up with each ring that cuts off, only to play another one.

Yet … I can't pull the phone away and hang up without leaving something for her.

Doc says that communication is the key to basically everything …

So here goes something.

"Today was not a great day. I'm not really sure why it's different, because it's just another damn day, but it's clung to me so bad that I'd love nothing more than to drown in a bottle right about now. I miss whiskey and you and my—" My throat clogs with emotion. "Shit, Anna…" The heel of my palm rotates over the ache so deep in my chest that I don't think any kind of medication could tame it. "I miss my pops so fucking much. I want to tell you all about him, everything I remember, and probably some shit I've made up over the years. You two would have been a blast together if he was still around." I gaze at the crossed-out squares sitting next to me for confirmation. "Four more weeks, Mama. Three days. Four hours. I know I'm a mess, but I'm all yours if you'll have me."