He hadn't talked to anyone he knew in four weeks. Almost a month now.
At first it was nice. A relief from his past life. Breathing room.
But now he longed to talk to somebody. Only he didn't want to talk to someone from his actual life. He wanted to talk to someone here in
Westcity
, but he wanted that person to know him.
The people at service industry nights at this bar wouldn't understand him. Couldn't. They lived a different life. He kept sipping
PBR
and checking his phone. There was really only one person he wanted to talk to at this point. She had been just 40 or so minutes away this whole time. He dared not drive up there. To the
town
he grew up in.
Instead he remained in Westcity. Wandering day from day. Schedule-less day and long evenings with drawn out sunsets. He texted
Imogen Howe
here and there. Pretty much everyday. But it wasn't like they were messaging all day.
He spent a lot of time looking at their exchanges though. And it's not like he missed the past. There was no
nostalgia
here. What he wanted, he swore to himself, was a new life. The two of them could make a life together. Alan couldn't.
That was one person Jack didn't want to run into out here. The two hadn't spoken in a while. There was nothing to speak of. They knew each other more through Aaron than each other direct. But sometimes couples looked at each other's phones. Jack always feared the day Alan would snoop on Imogen's phone and see how much the two were talking.
It was enough to raise suspicion from a husband.
His phone vibrated. He put the beer down and quickly grabbed for it. And he nearly spat out his beer when he saw who it was.
