Giving It Over - Part III
The Mud, the Rain, and the Way He Took Me
Catch up:
A week passed, and I extended my stay in Sweet Water. I made the rounds, reconnecting with cousins I hadn’t seen in years and even getting hit on by the checkout girl at the Piggly Wiggly.
Enon had given Milly the week off, insisting she take a well-deserved vacation at his house down in Gulf Shores. Milly was like a mother to him, and Enon was always generous to those he loved, the type to offer the last dollar from his wallet.
Dust swirled around my rental car as I sped along the dirt road toward Enon’s estate, pebbles clattering against the undercarriage. It was desperately in need of a wash, but why bother—it was just a rental. I loaded my arms with groceries, awkwardly balancing everything as I climbed the front steps.
The screen door creaked open, and a voice startled me. “Let me give you a hand.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I lowered the bags. I hoped I’d misheard, but there he stood.
“Chris?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered, aggressively putting away the groceries.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Chris shot back, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
I avoided his gaze, feeling the heavy weight of disappointment radiating from him. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” I said bitterly.
It cut deep when someone tells you you've changed—for the worse, no less. I didn't want to waste time on someone who thought of me that way. Chris was always closed off, brutally honest to a fault, lacking any sense of tact or subtlety. No matter how hard I tried to break down his walls, he reinforced them with steel and silence.
“How did you even know I was here?”
“You ignored my calls, texts, voicemails. I got worried and tracked your phone.”
“Oh, fantastic,” I snapped, slamming a box of cereal onto the pantry shelf.
He smirked, leaning casually against the kitchen island. “Look at you, the little homemaker.”
I shot him a cold glance. “Where’s Enon?”
“Upstairs.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“Nothing. He seemed plenty surprised to see me, though.”
“You didn’t say anything? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”
My mind raced—I hadn’t mentioned to Enon that Chris and I had ever been involved.
Heavy boots sounded on hardwood, breaking my thoughts. Enon bounded downstairs, his eyes bright. “You’re back!” He wrapped me in a tight bear hug, nearly lifting me off my feet. “And a new guest. Just like old times!”
“Seems that way,” I said, forcing a smile.