Wildfire

Chapter 12

Rue

With shaking hands, I dial the number that I had memorized. A number that I desperately wanted to call for years but never got the chance to.

My mother and I left on a bad note. A large argument that blew way out of proportion. Looking back at it, I should have listened to my mother's words. Pleading with me not to leave her. But I was too far gone, allowing my husband to control my entire life. It would have saved me if I heeded her warnings.

I was so naive...

So stupid!

I hold the phone up to my ear and listen to the drawn-out ringing. I sigh as I hear their voicemail box, my mother's voice telling me to leave my name and a quick message and that she'll get back to me as soon as she can.

My heart skips a beat as a small beep signifies the start of the voicemail recording. I take a deep breath before speaking.

"Hi, um... I know you haven't heard from me for a very long time. But I promise I have an explanation. I was terrible to all of you and I'm sorry for cutting you off. Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was leave you. I'm calling from a friend's phone so if you choose to call back just ask for Rue. I'm so sorry..."

I hang up before I can think twice about the voicemail I left. Maybe if I tell them what happened they'll let me stay with them. It'll give me the proper time to mend my bond with my family while giving me some much-needed space from Shiloh.

I hate how this is my go-to for dealing with problems. Or lack thereof. I always ran from my problems. I ran from my family. My husband. And now Shiloh. When will it ever stop?

I place Kalen's phone onto the counter, making my way to the porch. I take a seat at the top step, leaning my head against the wooden railing.

Maybe it was a bad idea to call my mother. I got lucky, calling the old house phone. I didn't know if they had chosen to move or not. My mother and Kristina were most likely living alone. All my siblings were now over eighteen, after all. They've probably gone off to settle down with a partner.

It was strange, thinking about my siblings being proper adults. It was even stranger to think that I wasn't a wide-eyed teenager full of life and curiosity. It all went wrong when I was introduced to my husband.

I was fourteen when I met him. He was seventeen. Malcolm was the son of one of my mother's friends. Malcolm was charming and charismatic, making me fall for him almost immediately.

Malcolm and I clicked almost instantly. We had so much in common. From the shows we watched, to our favorite spots to go out to eat. Everything was perfect.

Malcolm asked me to be his boyfriend about six months into spending time with him. On my fifteenth birthday, to be exact. I said yes, of course, blinded by the beautiful lies he was feeding me.

We dated for years, Malcolm visiting me every chance he got. He'd take me to movies, bring me to fancy restaurants, and even go for hikes with me. Each date was unique, making me feel like the luckiest man in the world. He made me feel good about myself. He made me feel amazing.

And five years into our relationship, he asked me to move in with him. I packed all my belongings into boxes and moved into his one-story cottage style house. The layout was beautiful, a stone pathway leading up to the front door. Luscious green grass surrounded the area, flowers blooming along the edges of the house.