The sight of them walking away like that—his arm around her waist, her head against his shoulder—stung behind my eyes like something had been driven in.
That was when my phone buzzed.
A message from my mother: Hope, Grandma keeps calling your name. Please come back.
I stared at the words and clenched the phone until it dug into my palm.
I pulled the diamond ring off my left hand.
I had to see Grandma one last time.
I searched every corner of the rest stop.
No other cars. No other people. No tools.
The signal on my phone kept cutting in and out.
I finally found a spot with enough bars and dialed roadside assistance.
The nearest team couldn't come until tomorrow.
A section of the road had collapsed.
I hung up. Les came over.
"Hope, just leave it till tomorrow." He glanced at my arm. "Look—you've gone and scraped yourself up. Be good. Don't make me feel bad."
I ignored him.
A little while later, my phone lit up.
Grandma's number.
I answered immediately.
"Grandma."
"Hope…" Her voice was so faint. "When will you be here?"
"I'm on my way, Grandma. Soon."
"Hope, dear… Grandma misses you so much. You were so little, you'd lie across my lap and pull at my sleeve until I told you a story…"