Chapter Twenty-Three

She’d said my first name with so much indecision and turmoil after she closed the door. 

I hated my first name. The feminine tone, it had always pissed me off, and the endless teasing growing up was a fraction of what molded my tough skin.

The way Kelsey said it was different. It was intimate and warmed my cold heart. I wanted to hear it from her lips every hour of the day, whether she was whining, pissed off, or coming.

She was hurting like I was, and deep down I knew I needed to let go. I stood there for minutes, my forehead pressed against the grain of the wood door, trying to think of the right words to say to get her to come back to me. Instead, I dabbed my eyes and left, drinking a whole bottle of Bourbon when I got home. I was too drunk to hit send on the rambling text message that made sense last night, but was complete gibberish on the screen.

The pounding in my head throbbed, but didn’t take away from the ache in my chest. I’d nee