Free Here Without You by Tammara Webber

can’t swallow the lump in my throat. ‘I’ll miss you.’
    ‘No, you won’t,’ he says. My eyes flash up and give my misery away, and he sighs. ‘God, Dori. You won’t miss me because I’m going to see you as often as I can get there or fly you here. In fact, the premiere for
Mercy Killing
is right before Valentine’s Day. I want you to come with me.’
    I almost forgot about the romantic action flick he’ll be promoting with Chelsea Radin over the next month. Thank goodness I met and liked Chelsea and her husband, Chad,last week. Some of the steamy film stills of her with Reid are unbearable to look at. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take the live-action scenes. I’d love to ask Chad how he copes with his wife doing scenes like that without wanting to pulverize her male co-stars.
    ‘During the week? I’d have to skip at least a day of classes, Reid – I don’t think that’s a good idea, so early in the semester.’
    He groans. ‘How did I know you would be that academically conscientious type of student? Bet you got straight A’s in high school too.’
    ‘No, I didn’t.’ When he crooks an eyebrow, I admit, ‘I have to study incessantly to do well. Learning new things doesn’t come easy for me like it does for some people, and cramming doesn’t work, either. I did earn mostly A’s, but I got several B’s and two C’s.’
    ‘Oh, no!’ he mocks. ‘
Two?
We might have to break up. In what subjects did you make these abysmal grades?’
    ‘Pre-AP geometry and biology. Freshman year.’
After Colin dumped me and I had an abortion. When I could hardly stomach going to school and seeing him every day. When I sank into a depression so deep that only Deb was able to reach me.
    His expression darkens. ‘Freshman year – spring semester.’
    I nod, and he pulls me tighter.
    It’s pre-dawn dark when Dad comes into my room bearing coffee. ‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ he says, setting a mug on my night table and gently jostling my shoulder.
    I grumble incoherently, having only had four hours of sleep after Reid dropped me off. He wanted to walk me to the door, but I asked him not to because it too closely recalled our final farewell – or so we thought – before my volunteer mission to Ecuador. Before Deb’s accident. Before I lost myself, dragged under by the implicit loss of my sister and my faith. I didn’t even begin to resurface until Reid found me.
    We kissed goodbye in his car for half an hour before I could make myself go inside. I waved once before slipping inside the darkened house, and as soon as I shut the door, silent tears began skating down my face. Treading carefully up the staircase – the last thing I needed was for Mom to get a look at my dejected expression – I chided myself for being ridiculous. I would see him again in a week or two. Three at most.
    Dad settles on the edge of my bed now and sips his coffee while I sit up and reach for mine.
    ‘Ready for a long, boring day on the road, followed by a million trips from a pint-sized rental truck to your new dorm room?’
    ‘Ugh. Dad, sometimes your propensity to tell the absolute truth is less welcome than other times.’
    He chuckles. ‘You’ll find out soon enough, once we get on the 5. Hours and hours of the opposite of a scenic thoroughfare. Although you’re in luck – you’ll be treated to my witty company the whole way! If you’re truly fortunate, I’ll bounce my Sunday sermon ideas off you. I’m dithering between either the trials of Job or Hannah’s unceasing plea to God for a son.’
    I crack an eye open. ‘Gosh, Dad. Gloomy much?’
    He shrugs and says, ‘They both came to good in the end.’
    ‘Sure, after lifetimes of suffering and praying for favours that were unobtainable without a miracle.’ Without waiting for his response, I shift the subject to the one we’re avoiding. ‘So … Mom is driving the car, and I’m riding in the truck with you? She’s still that angry at me about Reid?’
    He