“I’m sorry, but I don’t think my life is gonna end up wrapped in a pretty red bow.” I swiped frantically at the tears that kept falling. “Maybe the best thing I could do is give in to what he wants. Go back to him.”
The thought of Reed ever touching me again made my skin crawl. But my children were worth any sacrifice.
I’d trade joy for their safety.
Happiness if it meant I was there, watching over them.
She huffed out a loathing sigh. “You will do no such thing. You left because you knew that’s what you had to do. Because your children deserve better than that life. Because you deserve better than that life.”
“But what if it’s the only option?” I whimpered, hugging my knees to my chest.
“It’s not. It’s not. So, here’s the plan. You’re going to get in that shower and clean yourself up, curl up in bed and have yourself a good cry, and when you wake up in the morning, you’re going to be ready to fight again. Because I promise you, even though you can’t feel it right now, the sun will be there to welcome you.”
I gave her the weakest smile. “It shouldn’t be possible to keep crying, but I can’t seem to stop.”
Sadness wedged into the lines of her aged face. She reached out and cupped my cheek. “Tears for our children don’t go dry. Our cares don’t dissipate. Until they’re safe, those tears will go on forever. But you will smile again, sweet girl. I know it. My heart knows it. You just have to believe it, too.”
Forty
Ian
There are moments in our lives when we gain evidence of everything our souls had forever screamed was our truth.
Call it a reaffirmation.
An underscore.
Motherfucking proof.
Or maybe it was just providence cinching down tight on the collar it had wrapped around your neck. A noose reminding you who you were. Who you were destined to be.
Changing—becoming someone better—wasn’t in the cards.
I’d wanted to. God, I’d wanted to.
A week had gone by, and there I was, in my darkened condo in the middle of the night, responsible for the very thing I’d promised myself I’d never be.
The joy of children.
Innocent children who had no way to fight. Children who were sitting across town waiting for someone to be their hero when they didn’t know our only fate was tragedy.
I knew it.
I’d known it all along, and then I’d gone and gotten stupid and thought there might be something better out there. Some bigger purpose.
What bullshit.
Alone, I sat on my couch, drinking straight from the bottle because the burn that slid down my throat was the only companion I could ever rely on.
Sure as shit couldn’t rely on myself.
Grace had to learn that firsthand.
Most pathetic part was I somehow thought I had the right to ache and hurt and wish there was something I could do when they only thing I’d hit through the entire week was dead end after dead end.
I couldn’t find shit on Reed.
Fucker was squeaky clean when he was the dirtiest bastard around.
I took another pull of the warm liquid. Wished it was Grace’s hands. Grace’s sweet hands that could chase away any storm. The girl peace and light and everything I’d never known I was missing.
Missing.
That’s exactly what this was.
I was missing her like a bitch.
Really, what she’d done was summon a whole new storm. God knew that the girl had turned my life upside down.
The truth was, I’d never have been good enough for her. For them. I knew it to my core.
Misery beat through my body. Was pretty sure stumbling upon that girl was nothing but another penalty for what I’d done. A tease of what I could never have.
I knew it.
I knew it.
Chest aching, I looked over at the tablet that sat on the couch next to me, that fucking jewelry box sitting next to it, trying to stop the hurt lining my insides.
I needed to accept defeat.
This was over.
Just to punish myself a little more, I pulled the tablet onto my lap and swiped into it, a soft smile pulling to my mouth when I saw the background picture.
Grace and Thomas and Mallory making goofy faces where they sat on the floor in the bedroom where all the kids had been staying, Sophie with her little arms around Grace’s neck as she clung to her back.
Grace was angled toward the camera.
Felt like I could reach out and touch her.
Like she was right there and nowhere at the same time.
So damned lonely, missing them so goddammed much, I clicked into Thomas’s photo folder. Invading his privacy, the same way as I’d invaded their lives, an intruder who wouldn’t do anything but cause them pain.
Had I not chased Grace down that first night, this never would have happened. She wouldn’t have my name to tarnish hers. She wouldn’t have the media going wild with scandalous stories about her sleeping with her attorney. Wouldn’t have this bullshit that made her look like she was indecent and dirty, when the girl had the purest heart of anyone I’d ever met.