Introspection - one shot after the talk with Marion
He drove for nearly an hour. It didn’t matter where he was going, Tuck simply followed the flow of traffic and did his damndest not to think. Just friends. They were just going to be friends and he’d never feel those arms around him again, never be able to catch him in another kiss that left him breathless with euphoria. The sense of loss was nearly overwhelming.
Finally, he found one of the many scenic overlooks surrounding Denver and the Rockies and pulled off. Sitting on the bumper, a beer held loosely in one hand, he drank and watched the sun pass over the mountains.
Two times now. Twice he’s put his heart on the line and twice it’s gone horribly wrong and Bill isn’t sure how much more of this he can stand. With a heavy sigh, he twisted the simple gold band on his finger. “God I miss you, baby. I miss you so much.”
With a sigh, Bill took another swallow. “I know it’s better this way. But Jesus, Grace. The hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I make this work?” His voice is thick with tears that he hadn’t shed, that he can’t shed. “I can’t be what people need. I’m not strong enough.”
In the quiet, his phone rang. Absently, Tuck fished it out and felt something loosen in his chest at the name flashing on the caller ID. And he called Ellen the psychic one.
“Hey.” And Bill shut his eyes, letting a warm, familiar voice soothe over his heartache.
Finally, he found one of the many scenic overlooks surrounding Denver and the Rockies and pulled off. Sitting on the bumper, a beer held loosely in one hand, he drank and watched the sun pass over the mountains.
Two times now. Twice he’s put his heart on the line and twice it’s gone horribly wrong and Bill isn’t sure how much more of this he can stand. With a heavy sigh, he twisted the simple gold band on his finger. “God I miss you, baby. I miss you so much.”
With a sigh, Bill took another swallow. “I know it’s better this way. But Jesus, Grace. The hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I make this work?” His voice is thick with tears that he hadn’t shed, that he can’t shed. “I can’t be what people need. I’m not strong enough.”
In the quiet, his phone rang. Absently, Tuck fished it out and felt something loosen in his chest at the name flashing on the caller ID. And he called Ellen the psychic one.
“Hey.” And Bill shut his eyes, letting a warm, familiar voice soothe over his heartache.