Reappearance of Summer

By DJ Small

In 2116, Colonel Summer Hawkins’s jet crashed off the coast of Iran during a rescue mission and she lost her leg and career because of it. Unable to face the demons the crash provoked, Summer left Washington D.C. and her life behind.

Two years later Summer’s past intrudes on her new life as a tabloid darling and she’s dragged back to Washington D.C. kicking and screaming. Forced to face the life she left behind, and the wife she abandoned, Summer struggles with her sudden reappearance in the nation’s capital while balancing her delicate mental state.

Will the abrupt disruption be the thing to pull her out of the hell her life has become or will it cause her mental demons and nightmares to worsen making Summer fall deeper into the pit of despair and hopelessness she’s lived in for the last two years?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DJ Small
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9780998188751

DJ Small

Trans, queer author, DJ Small, is a writer who creates stories about characters from various backgrounds and are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. He strives to portray a world where an individual's sexuality, gender, or race are insignificant. There are times where such topics will be a point of drama for the character, but not frequently. DJ only wants to create fantastical worlds, and come up with a good story about two people falling in love. If this is a radical idea, then call him crazy.

Book preview

Chapter One

The sound of the doorbell chiming through the three-room hotel suite Summer currently occupied caused an agonized groan to rumble in her throat, and she attempted to get out of the comfy bed and out of the clutches of the Italian model she had met last night, but it was a half-hearted one. After giving her bedmate a firm kiss, Summer pulled back, a wide grin filling her face, and rolled over to the edge of the bed. She sat on it, and as she reached for her prosthetic leg, Renata began to swear at her in Italian.

Once her prosthesis was somewhat in place, Summer stood next to the bed, smiling down at the attractive blonde who had kept her busy from the time they had left the gala last night to the early hours of the morning.

You are irresistible when you swear at me in Italian, Summer commented as she bent down to kiss Renata. The desire to have more fun caused her to her forget why she had gotten out of bed to begin with, but then the doorbell sounded through the suite again, and Summer stopped leaning in to meet Renata’s lips with her own. She smiled. I have to go answer that. It might be room service.

A low whine came from Renata as she dropped face-first onto the bed. Chuckling softly, Summer moved to the end of the bed and retrieved the fluffy dark blue robe hanging off the foot of it. Renata rested her head on her hand so she could watch Summer. Do you remember either of us requesting room service last night? she asked, her accent doing wonderful things to Summer’s libido.

Summer laughed quietly. I do not. We were beyond drunk, and I could only think about you naked, in my bed, and your long, beautiful legs wrapped around me.

Ignore whoever it is, and you can feel them wrapped around you once more, Renata suggested as her lips turned up, forming a seductive smirk. It, along with the alluring timber of her voice, made Summer weak, and she nearly went along with the suggestion, but by some miracle she found herself turning it down, momentarily.

I shall return, and I will be quick. Summer grinned. Keep the bed warm and think of ways to make me forget my name.

"Oh, mia cara, Renata purred. I have come up with several ideas which will make you forget your very spirit."

Summer drew in a slow, deep breath through her nose as arousal began to make its way through her body. Renata wanted to kill her, and it was a death Summer would gladly accept if it meant indulging in more of this beautiful woman. She held up two fingers. Two minutes. I’ll be back in two minutes. She walked quickly out of the room, and the sound of Renata’s delightful laugh urged her on. Getting rid of the unexpected interruption suddenly became an immediate priority. Summer headed for the door, grimacing slightly when she noticed how loose her prosthetic was. It wouldn’t bother her too much since it would be on for less than five minutes, but it was still uncomfortable and a bit irritating.

Summer opened the door as soon as she reached it, a retort ready to go on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped short, and unable to keep the shock from her face, her eyes widened in bewilderment. Standing in front of her were four agents from the Secret Service and a major from the United States Air Force. Summer’s brain tried to process the reason for their presence at her hotel suite, but before she could say anything the major started to speak. Colonel Summer Hawkins, I am Major Howard Collingsworth. He paused. Your country needs you, Colonel.

Still taken off guard by their presence at her suite, Summer stared at the man. A few more seconds went by before she was able to respond. No, she stated in a hard tone. Go back to wherever you came from and tell whoever ordered you to come get me that they can go fuck themselves. I’ve done my time.

Summer closed the door, slamming it in the major’s face. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it wasn’t her problem. Not anymore. Summer had barely made it two steps away from the door when it opened again. The four Secret Service agents walked in, and two of them moved to flank her while a third stood in front of her. They tried to take hold of her arms, but Summer wasn’t going to go easily. She elbowed the agent on her right in the gut and punched the one on her left in the face.

Summer, what the hell is this? Renata shouted as she came into the living room.

Ma’am, the major began as the agent in front of Summer advanced on her, do not interfere. This is United States business.

Summer punched the agent in the face, and the woman stumbled back. The agent she had elbowed in the gut tried to apprehend her again, but a swift uppercut caused the man’s head to jerk back and stopped his advancement. The hit injured her knuckles in the process, but Summer refused to let it affect her as she continued to fight off the two other agents. The possibility of her prosthetic falling off grew with each passing second, and Summer hoped it would stay on long enough for her to incapacitate the agents. There was no way in hell she would let them take her.

By order of the President of the United States of America, Major Collingsworth announced, we are to employ any tactic necessary in order to get you back to the US.

Summer maneuvered so she could flip an agent over her shoulder and throw him to the floor. Breathing heavily from the unexpected exertion, she glared at the major. Right as she was about to tell him off, the agent who hadn’t engaged in trying to apprehend her pointed a gun in Summer’s direction. It didn’t take long for her to realize it wasn’t an actual gun, but a tranquilizer pistol, however, the moment between seeing the pistol and realizing what it was lasted too long, and the next thing Summer knew, a tranquilizer dart pierced her shoulder. She screamed in pain and pulled out the dart. The world started to spin, and Summer felt unsteady on her feet. The last thought to go through her mind before losing consciousness was: That fucking bitch.

Chapter Two

I have been here for fourteen fucking hours and have yet to hear a goddamn thing, Summer shouted as five Secret Service agents escorted her down a long concrete tunnel. I am a goddamn American hero, and I’m pretty certain the government taking me hostage is fucking illegal. So, one of you fucking assholes better start talking, or I’ll beat you with one of my crutches.

Pissed didn’t cover how livid Summer was, and the fact her leg had been taken had her teetering on the verge of a homicidal rampage. When she had woken up twelve hours ago, Summer had found herself in a cell with no windows and several Secret Service agents standing outside it. Every now and then, the agents would switch out with various members of the armed services; most of them had been Marines, but a few sailors had also stood guard.

They had brought her food once she became more alert, but this modicum of hospitality didn’t alleviate any of Summer’s ire, which transformed into a boiling rage when the group of agents came to get her from the cell. Three of them had walked silently into it and led her out with no explanation.

Summer and the group of agents stopped at a set of metal doors. One of the agents swiped an access card through the card reader to the left of them and a cement-colored panel next to the doors opened. A biometric palm scanner extended out of it, and the agent placed her hand on it. The reader scanned her palm twice before the doors glided open.

The agent closest to Summer placed their hand on her upper arm, but she jerked it away and snarled, Do not fucking touch me. She pinned the female agent down with a hard stare. I don’t care what fucking orders you’re under, I want to know what the hell is going on. If no one is forthcoming with an answer, I will kill each and every one of you.

Summer glared at the agent a second longer, and after it passed she noticed she and her unwanted entourage were not alone. The doors had opened to an underground conference room and in it were four women and two men. Summer recognized them as important members of the U.S. government, but couldn’t quite place their names. However, it was the woman standing at the head of the table who garnered all her attention. Summer clenched her jaw at the sight of her, and her teeth began to hurt from how tightly she gritted them together. Valarie Hawkins, President of the United States, patiently stared at her, waiting for her tirade to come to an end.

Summer let out a contemptuous grunt in her mind. She was far from finished; in fact, seeing the president only added more fuel to the rage coursing hotly through her veins.

Is this your doing? Summer demanded as she began to make her way up to the head of the table. You think just because you’re the fucking president you can do whatever the hell you want? I am a fucking private citizen who is retired from the Air Force. What gives you the fucking right to send your fucking lackeys to France and force me to come back to this godforsaken city? Summer glared at the president a second longer, then shouted, They took my fucking leg, Val!

A minute facial expression flashed across the president’s face as the statement knocked her from wherever she had gone in her mind. Summer continued to seethe as the president glanced down. Val’s eyes narrowed. Why was her leg taken? A tense silence came over the room. I asked a question, Val said, her voice rising a little.

The male agent standing to Summer’s left cleared his throat, and with some hesitation, he replied, It fell off during transport, Madam President.

It fell off during transport, Val repeated. The disbelief behind the words was a precursor to her next question. Why the hell was it not given back to her?

The male agent cleared his throat again. You advised us to use any means necessary to get the colonel back to D.C. He cleared his throat for a third time. If he did it again, Summer was going to karate chop him across it. We believed if we gave it back to her she would run away.

For a brief second Val appeared to be dumbfounded by the explanation, but then anger quickly filled her face. "I meant by force, you jackass, she shouted. Go get her fucking leg!" The sound of Secret Service agents scrambling to leave the conference room immediately followed the order, and the noise of the hydraulic doors opening and closing was the last sound to be made in the room before silence filled it again. Summer watched as Val drew in a deep breath and released it. Of all the cities in the world, this was the last one she wanted to be in, and Val was the last person she wanted to see.

Val’s eyes met hers. I’m sorry they took your leg.

Summer refused to acknowledge the apology. What do you want? She asked through clenched teeth. Are you keeping tabs on me?

No, I’m not keeping tabs on you, Val replied, but then she added, The Secret Service does receive reports from your security detail—

We aren’t married anymore, Val, Summer interjected. You don’t get to passive-aggressively keep track of me because you can’t move the fuck on.

Val pinned her down with a hard gaze. The reports have nothing do with me, and you know this, Summer. We may not be married anymore, but you are a risk to national security. Your whereabouts need to be known at all times.

Summer let out a derisive snort as she turned and headed for the doors. Holding me hostage isn’t for fucking national security, unless you’re employing twenty-first century tactics for federal prisoners these days.

You’re not being held hostage, nor are you a prisoner.

The fucking tranquilizer dart to my shoulder and the cell I was in say otherwise, Summer remarked, keeping her back to Val. When she began to chuckle, Summer’s anger overrode her desire to avoid looking at her. Do you find me being shot fucking amusing?

Val smirked. I was told heavy-handed tactics would be a bit too much, but here you are proving they were quite necessary. She tried to contain a chuckle, but her shoulders gently shook as a stifled one escaped. Summer glowered at Val. I knew you would be difficult to get here.

I don’t want to be here, Summer snapped.

Val sobered up and clasped her hands in front of her. Your country needs you to serve, Colonel.

Summer narrowed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. I am retired, and in case you have fucking forgotten, I don’t have a damn leg.

Val’s eyebrow went up as she glanced down, and when her eyes met Summer’s again, a small smirk played at her lips. I can have you reactivated, and you have a prosthetic. You can serve.

Goddammit, Val, I have already served my fucking country, Summer argued. For fourteen years I was out there fighting the good fight, then my jet went down and forced me to retire. She huffed in annoyance. Not only did I serve my country, but I lost a fucking leg for it. So, don’t tell me I need to do it again, Madam President, when I almost lost my life while serving my country.

Do you forget who you’re talking to, Summer? Val asked. Don’t paint yourself as some sort of honored patriot when we both know the real reason why you joined the academy. It for damn sure wasn’t to give life, limb, and soul to protect your country.

Summer’s grip on her crutches tightened as her anger towards Val tripled. The animosity she felt towards her ex-wife was due to a culmination of several things, but the main factor fueling her anger now was from being in a place she did not want to be. Being around Val only made her displeasure worse. Summer took a few steps towards her and said in a low voice, If you don’t fucking let me leave, you will not like what will happen. She held Val’s gaze, adding, Let’s just say I will probably get arrested for assaulting the president.

Val didn’t react to the threat, and Summer knew she wouldn’t be able to hurt her, but she felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage and needed to be set free, or who knew what would happen. Val straightened her posture and said, You are allowed to leave; but you are restricted to the White House grounds. The Secret Service has been instructed to use whatever means necessary to make sure you remain on the property.

Summer opened her mouth to argue, but the challenging gleam in Val’s eyes had her closing it again. Val wasn’t going to change her mind and arguing with her would be pointless. During their divorce Summer hadn’t felt any true anger towards her ex, but in this moment, she hated Val more than anything. She turned around and stormed out of the conference room. Right as she stepped into the long hallway, the Secret Service agents were returning with her leg, and she met them halfway. Take me to the Residence, she ordered. The words caused her anxiety to spike, but Summer did her best to not let it overwhelm her.

The faces of the agents remained expressionless, but Summer could feel the apprehension coming off them and knew they weren’t certain if they could take her up to the private living quarters of the president. She can be escorted up to the Residence, Val said behind her. And make sure the colonel’s access gets reinstated.

For how long, President Hawkins? one of the agents asked. Summer glared at the man, though the person she wanted to take her anger out on was Val.

A long silence filled the tunnel. Unfortunately, Val said, breaking the tense quiet, a timeframe hasn’t been set, so make it indefinite. Once her stay at the White House has ended, it can be revoked.

Summer squeezed the handgrips of her crutches as her jaw clenched. Half of her wanted to turn around and let loose the rage she felt towards Val, but the other half wanted to curl up in a ball and wait for this nightmare to end. Summer didn’t hear the agent’s response, but she was brought back to the present when he said, Colonel Hawkins, if you would follow us we’ll take you up to the Residence.

A lump formed in Summer’s throat. Being back in the actual White House was something she couldn’t handle, but she forced down her rising anxiety and gave the agent a curt nod. As she and the small group of agents began to make their way down the tunnel, Summer glanced over her shoulder and saw Val still standing in the concrete corridor, watching her. Her gaze narrowed, then she turned around and focused on the backs of the five agents in front of her. Whatever the hell Val was up to, she had no desire to be a part of it and would find some way to get out of the White House by the end of the day.

~~~~

If it were possible, the scowl on Summer’s face worsened as she stood in the doorway of the walk-in closet in the Lincoln room. The belongings and clothes she had taken with her to France had made the unexpected trip to the White House. Seeing her clothes hanging in the closet and finding a few of her personal effects laid neatly on the counter in the bathroom caused Summer’s skin crawl. She flung the door closed and headed for the bathroom.

Once in the room, Summer started the shower. As she began to undress, a myriad of thoughts flooded her brain, most of them centering on old demons she tried to repress or forget. None of them had anything to do with the woman who occupied the room down the hall, though; Summer’s issues were all her own.

The thoughts and troubling emotions that came with being back at the White House had begun two years ago, after her jet had gone down during a rescue mission. The mission had been one she’d done numerous times, and Summer had felt no stress about it. Providing aerial support to a rescue plane was a job Summer could have done in her sleep, but an hour into the mission things had taken a turn for the worse. They had rescued the envoys, but on the return flight insurgents in the area had begun to fire missiles at them—missiles that hadn’t been reported in any of the intelligence reports—and Summer tried to do the task she had been assigned to do which was protect the rescue plane. In the span of fifteen minutes the mission became a complete disaster and a total failure.

During those tense, devastating minutes the small rescue plane had been obliterated, and none of the individuals on the craft, including the envoys, survived. The two other jets that had also been providing aerial support had gone down over the Persian Gulf, and the pilots of them still hadn’t been found. They were classified as killed in action, body not retrieved or KIA/BNR. Summer knew the bodies would never be found.

Her own jet had been hit before it reached the gulf, but Summer had been able to make final maneuvers to ensure her plane crashed on land, however, the mountainous terrain had been rough and dangerous. The last thing Summer remembered was the sound of metal hitting the rocks and thinking of Val. She woke up a week later and found her leg had been amputated above the knee.

The loss of her leg and failing the mission had put Summer in a bad place mentally and instead of seeking help, she had taken it out on those around her. For six months after the crash, Summer had vilified anyone who tried to help her, but the person who had felt the brunt of her anger and nastiness had been Val. Not once during those long, painful months did Val retaliate and tell Summer to get over herself, but they had also been in the middle of her first term as president and appearances had to be maintained.

The day before an important state dinner, Summer had run away from the White House and her marriage without saying a single word to Val. Months after she had left D.C., Summer had her lawyers draw up divorce papers and send them to Val, and she had signed them, putting up no fight.

The two of them hadn’t spoken to each other in two years, and despite Summer wanting a clean break, it wasn’t possible. Their divorce became fodder for the news outlets and tabloids, and Summer still had to have protection. Once her lawyers and the Secret Service had come up with an agreement, she began to live a life that allowed her to bury the damaging emotions that threatened to render her useless.

Nothing but bad memories and unresolved issues haunted Summer as she got into the shower. She showered quickly, and as she got out of the tub, she heard a knock on the room’s main door. After putting on her robe and getting her crutches situated, Summer exited the bathroom to answer it. As soon as the door opened and she saw who stood in front of it, her eyes instantly narrowed. Considering how her day had been going, along with where she had been taken, Summer had had her fill of dealing with anyone attached to Val and the federal government. Oh, fuck no, she exclaimed. Summer tried to close the door, but the person on the other side didn’t let her. Are you fucking kidding me right now? Her eyes bore into green ones that held as much anger as her own. What do you want, Addison?

Val’s chief of staff, Addison Connors, pushed her away from the door and retorted, It’s nice to fucking see you too, Summer. I see Val was able to pull you away from all the whoring you were doing in Europe.

As if I had a choice, Summer countered. Her arm still hurt from where the dart had landed, and a nice bruise had formed around it. Your fucking boss ordered her lackeys to haul me in and they shot me with a tranquilizer dart. She scowled. Then she had the nerve to tell me ‘my country needs me to serve again’, Summer said, imitating Val with a sneer. It sounds like a load of horse shit to me. I don’t fucking—

Are you fucking done yet? Addison interrupted, and unrestrained anger blazed in her eyes. You owe her this, you selfish asshole.

I don’t owe her shit, Summer shouted.

Addison took a step towards her. Yes, you fucking do. You embarrassed her, and you continue to do so by not using discretion when you’re being a whore. She paused for a second. You fucking abandoned her, Summer. In the middle of her first term as leader of the free world, you abandoned her. Do you even think about what the hell you did to her? Addison let out an angry huff. I’m certain you don’t. Val couldn’t do anything. She still had to be president while trying to recover from all the shit you put her through. Addison stepped away from Summer and began to pace in front of her. While you were off gallivanting around the damn world, claiming to do work for you parents, which we know is a lie; Val had to deal with the massive blowout from your bullshit.

Summer didn’t care. She had done what she did for herself, and for Val, if she were honest with herself. Summer pinned Addison down with a hard gaze. Are you done?

For a full second, Addison gaped at her, but then her anger returned in full force. She charged over to Summer, and before she knew what was happening, the palm of Addison’s hand struck her cheek hard. Are you so cold and heartless that you truly do not care about Val?

Summer slipped her right arm out of the cuff of her crutch and rubbed her cheek. What is there for me to fucking care about, Addison? she asked as she glowered at her. I’m not the same fucking person I was two years ago, and it’s not like Val was alone. Summer gestured towards Addison. She had you and I’m certain you were there to comfort her after I supposedly abandoned her, she said, adding a slight innuendo to her words.

Addison let out a brief sarcastic chuckle and gave her head a slight shake. You’re a piece of work. With that, she left the room, slamming the door closed behind her. Summer stared at it, and after a long minute, she sighed. A long time ago, Addison had been her best friend, but not any longer. Their relationship crumbled the moment she came back from the hospital after the crash, and once the divorce had been finalized, Addison had chosen Val’s side. Something Summer honestly couldn’t blame her for. Before her thoughts were able to take her down darker avenues, Summer went to the closet and got some clothes. She would keep herself busy until she found a way to corner Val and find out why she was at the White House.

~~~~

Val stared out the window behind her desk in the Oval Office, barely registering the freshly planted flowers in the Rose Garden. Thoughts of Summer filled her mind, and her feelings were as scattered as they were. Seeing Summer for the first time in two years had kicked up the maelstrom of emotions Val had managed to repress. It seemed like she was seconds away from crying, but at the same time she wanted to find Summer and hand her her ass. Val took a sip of the whiskey floating in the glass in her hand. She thought she would have been able to compartmentalize her feelings and ignore the reactions she had upon seeing Summer again, but that was far from the case.

No matter how she felt about her, seeing her walk into the conference room earlier had caused Val’s breathing to stop. Her ex-wife was as gorgeous as ever; even more so since growing her hair out, and her blue eyes held the same fire they always possessed, except their intensity had grown, fueled by Summer’s anger. Val sighed and took another drink from her glass, then pressed the edge of it to her lips. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she second-guessed her decision to involve Summer in something as delicate as this.

Bringing in Summer hadn’t been her idea. The chief of staff for the Air Force had suggested to Val, and the other chiefs of staff, that Summer be considered since she had been one of the best pilots the Air Force had seen in the last decade or so. The general had included Summer’s fearlessness along with her ability to remain calm under stressful situations as reasons to bring her in. Considering the situation the country currently found itself in, those were needed attributes in whoever they chose.

Val hadn’t disagreed with the general’s assessment. Summer was a natural pilot, and flying and navigating planes and jets came intuitively to her. There was a reason why she had reached colonel at such a young age, and it wasn’t because she looked good in the uniform, but due to her raw talent as a pilot.

At some point, logic should have kicked in, and Val should have told General Archambault Summer wasn’t an option and ended the conversation there, but sheer stupidity had gotten in the way. Expecting her to fail, Val had told the general if she found a way to get Summer back to the states so they could discuss the matter at hand, then she would be considered along with the other pilots.

Val softly grunted to herself. What a brilliant idea that had been. She finished off the whiskey in her glass and made her way to the small liquor cabinet standing against the wall to right of her desk. Though she was tempted to drown her tumultuous emotions with more whiskey, she poured herself a glass of water. Having Summer back in the White House threatened her ability to maintain the political veneer that hid her anger, resentment, and hurt from the rest of the world. Val went back to her desk and sat down in the leather office chair.

Processing the end of her marriage and working through the pain Summer had caused was a luxury she couldn’t afford, and Val still had emotions and feelings she needed to work through, but there was nothing she could do about them. She was the president and there were certain ways she was supposed to conduct herself. Unfortunately, having a mental breakdown and going off on her wayward ex-wife wasn’t becoming of a sitting president.

A soft knock on the Oval Office door brought Val back to the present, and she cleared her throat before calling out, Come in. It opened, and her administrative assistant, Emanuel, walked in. She smiled at him. What’s going on, Manny?

Ms. Connors is requesting to see you, he replied.

Val gave him a slight nod. Send Addison in.

Manny moved out of the doorway, and Addison walked in behind him. They waited for the door to close behind him, then Addison moved closer to the desk, a sympathetic smile on her face. How are you doing?

Val forced out a short breath, but then it turned into a half-hearted chuckle. "My ex-wife thinks I’m using the Secret Service to stalk her, and she is so angry. Val blew out a long breath and added, I’m not even certain if it’s all directed at me, and if it is, I have no idea where it’s coming from."

You know how Summer is, Addison started as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of Val’s desk. She’s full of anger and swears and no one ever knows what the hell she’s pissed about.

I know, Val said with a small sigh. But this goes beyond Summer being Summer, she’s pissed at me for some reason, and all I can do is fall in love with her again despite the shit we are in. She smiled at Addison. Did you see her hair? She grew it out.

Addison pointed at Val as a stern and piercing gaze stared at her. No, you are not allowed to do this. She got up and walked around the desk, leaning against it once she stood next to Val’s chair. You cannot fall back in love with the selfish asshole who abandoned you.

Addison, you can’t call her selfish. Everything Summer went through—

And now you’re making excuses for her, Addison interjected. Val, you have to be kidding me right now.

Val pressed her lips together, and the two of them fell silent for a moment. She couldn’t help it; protecting and caring about Summer was something that came as easy as breathing did.

Addison sighed. I slapped her.

Val’s eyes widened upon hearing the admission, but after a few seconds she began to chuckle softly. Eventually, it devolved into full-blown laughter with Addison joining her. As they caught their breaths, Val chuckled and asked, Why?

Addison let out a small laugh, then exclaimed, She pissed me off. The way she spoke about you while not showing a shred of remorse for leaving infuriated me. She was so uncaring, and I couldn’t believe it was Summer, but hearing her talk the way she did…I couldn’t stop myself. She exhaled a forceful breath and looked down at her hands which rested in her lap. I thought I would be able to smack some sense into her, but we see how well that worked out. Addison’s eyes met Val’s. I honestly think she doesn’t care about you anymore.

The confession felt like a knife through Val’s heart. The sympathy reflected in Addison’s eyes told her she didn’t want to hurt her, but the truth needed to be said. If Val were using her head, and not her heart, she would have agreed with Addison. Summer’s behavior over the last two years proved she didn’t care, and not just about Val, but