He Thought Tuesdays Were Pottery, Now He Begs Me Home novel · Chapter 13 of 24
Chapter 13: Fourteen Months
Bennett's POV
I opened the vault with my thumbprint and my father's birthday, and I handed the master key to my wife.
My ex-wife.
The woman I had been writing to in the dark for fourteen months.
She took it without looking at me and fed it into the gateway, and the first row of the red map flickered green.
"Don't talk to me yet," Joss said. "Call every depot and tell them the key is live. I'll push the restart from here."
I called every depot.
I said the same sentence nine times, in the same level voice.
The stranger who had given me advice on my worst nights was sitting at my console, and she was my wife.
The advice had been good.
I had followed it, mostly, and been grateful.
I had told that voice things I'd never told a living person.
I stood in the middle of my own dispatch floor and tried to remember every single one.
The units came up one by one.
Twenty, then thirty.
A trucker out of Toledo shouted on speaker that his compressor had caught.
The dispatchers cheered, and the woman with the reading glasses started to cry.
Joss didn't look up from her screen.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–12 of He Thought Tuesdays Were Pottery, Now He Begs Me Home are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
← Chapter 12 · All chapters · Chapter 14 →
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