Truck Me All Day Long
Eight months. That’s how long he’s been living at that damn hotel.
Thoughts of my estranged relationship with Brandon Perez swirled in my head constantly. I rubbed my face and tried to refocus on the paperwork before me.
As daylight began to brighten the horizon, I worked at my desk in the office trailer at ConcreteXpress—the company I owned. “It wasn’t as if I did anything wrong,” I had told myself, often. He’d been the one to cheat—not me. Brandon broke us.
As the weeks away from my boyfriend turned into months of soul-searching, it finally dawned on me what a selfish bastard I’d been over the years. How could I explain the reason why, though? Would he understand the fear that had lived within me for so long and begged that I not become like the man who’d raised
