Chapter 4 - Spring 6

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To call the journey back to the farm a "walk of shame" was an understatement.

The older crowd was up and alive, exchanging chipper "good mornings" in passing. As I passed through the Town Square, I realized that I still had no food at the farm. The Saloon may have fed me last night, but today's a new day, and it was the lack of granola bars that put me in this situation to begin with. After a few deep breaths and consequential dry heaves, I detoured into Pierre's, prepared to make quite a striking second impression.

"Good morning, Sadie!" Pierre said cheerfully from behind the counter. "Welcome to Pierre's General Store! What brings you in today?"

"I just need some groceries," I mumbled, unable to match his excitement. The thought of food made my stomach churn.

"Have a great day, Sadie! I look forward to buying more produce from you!" He chirped after taking half of my life savings, nodding his head towards the parsnips I sold him and handing over my items in a paper bag.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I skimmed over the calendar, noting Haley's birthday and rolling my eyes to make myself feel better.

My phone buzzed on the counter merely minutes after I'd collapsed into my stiff mattress, the realization that I didn't even bring it with me to the Saloon setting in.

> Josh, 9:09 PM, missed call

> Josh, 11:45 PM, missed call

> Josh, 1:32 AM, missed call

> Josh, 8:03 AM, message. Sadie, for God's Sake. Give me a call.

> Unknown number, 8:28 AM, message. Thanks for taking care of me this morning, Sadie. I really appreciate it! Last night was a blast!

My eyes glazed right over Josh's plea and to the number I didn't recognize. I rubbed my temples, racking my brain for the memory of giving Sam my number. No luck.

< Sadie, 9:06 AM, message. Of course! I had a great time. Hope you're feeling better!

I groaned as I typed Josh's number, the sound of the dial making my heart race.

"Sadie?" his voice picked up almost immediately.

"What do you need?"

"Where have you been? I was worried sick about you."

"Why? We aren't together anymore—you don't need to know what I'm doing."

"Fine," He huffed, silence consuming the line. "How are you doing there? Have you made any new friends?"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone else. It's only been a week since we broke up, and unlike you, I can't move on that fast."

He sighed. "I wasn't asking about that, Sadie. I want to know you're doing well out there."

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "I've become pretty good friends with the bartender."

"The bartender?" he asked, his tone shifting. "What the hell has gotten into you, Sadie? I can't remember the last time you even had a drop to drink."

"I guess that now that I don't have to worry about driving your drunk ass home anymore, I can actually have a good time. This was nice, but I've got to get going, alright? Best of luck to you and your mistress."

The familiar vibration began again as I placed it on the counter, and for a terrible moment, I felt satisfied.

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Although part of me feared that showing up to the Saloon on a Saturday was a recipe for disaster, I forced my brain to shut down the thought. I was here on a mission—to do just that. A week of isolation invites the mind to run wild, and every day the regret of how I treated Haley grew.

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