Sometimes I wondered if it would be such a bad thing if we were more than just friends. Curtis was a good guy, and he was doing all of this for me.
There was just one problem.
He wasn’t Ford.
* * *
BELLE
I had a full day off, and I’d never been more bored in my entire life. There was only so much trash TV I could watch, and only so many books I could read until the font blurred together into a giant mess. If I still had my cell, I could have spied on people on the internet, but I hadn’t used it since I dismantled it on the drive here all those months ago.
I’d learned many things from my dad and Ford, and they came in handy when I didn’t want to be found. My cell sat in three pieces inside the drawer of my bedside table, just in case. I knew if I wanted to go home—or have my dad turn up—all I’d need to do was turn my cell on and they’d find me. But I wasn’t ready to be found. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to be found.
The days were blurring into weeks, and the weeks were whizzing past. There was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t stop time, no matter how much I wished I could. So I stayed hidden. Invisible from the people who knew me best.
I huffed out a breath and placed my hand on my stomach as the baby kicked as I stared out at the driveway. The two chairs on the small porch had been here when we first arrived, and I often took to sitting in one of them and staring out at the trees that surrounded us. We weren’t entirely off the beaten path, but we were a little way back. The closest house to us was a three-minute walk, and it was Leopold’s large two-story house. I’d walked there and back so many times I’d actually timed it.
Leopold wasn’t just my boss, he’d also become my friend, especially when I was alone in the evening. There was only so much thinking I could do until I drove myself crazy.
The sun was starting to go down in the sky, and I couldn’t help but smile as the colors mixed, creating a pastel watercolor effect that I couldn’t take my eyes off. I’d learned to see the beauty in things since I’d been here. The smell of the fresh trees, the silence surrounding us, the way the sunlight beamed through the branches and leaves, and the lush green starting to turn into autumnal colors. It was fast approaching, much like everything was at the moment.
Silence was peaceful, but also deafening. I’d learned that a long time ago. I used to feel like I needed to fill the quiet with something, but now I embraced it. Silence was the world’s way of making you stop and think.
I jumped as the front door banged shut, and Curtis appeared. He didn’t say a word as he sat in the chair beside me and stared up at the sky. Finally, he asked, “Want to go to the diner before my shift at the bar?” My stomach grumbled at his words, and he chuckled. “I’ll take that as your answer.”
I smiled over at him, getting lost in his dark eyes and wondering how he felt. We hadn’t spoken about why I’d run away, not since I’d told him those three words in the car. Ford is dead. The memory had goose bumps spreading on my arms, and I ran my palms over the skin, trying to warm myself up, but it was impossible. I couldn’t keep thinking about the past, not now. I had to look to the future, I just wasn’t sure what my future actually was.
“Let me put my shoes on.”
“‘K,” Curtis murmured, and watched me as I entered the cabin. The cabin was small, but at least it had two bedrooms. The living room and kitchen were one room, separated by a wooden arch and a small dining table with four chairs. It reminded me of the apartment I’d shared with Stella, and as soon as that thought sprung to mind, I shoved it aside. Just another thing I refused to think about.
I walked toward the back hallway—one door at the end, and two opposite each other. The one on the left was my room. It was tiny, with only just enough room for a single bed and the built-in closet, but it was enough for me. I’d managed to get myself some new clothes, some tennis shoes, and a pair of ballet flats because I’d left with only my cell and fifty dollars in my pocket. It was reckless, I knew that, but I hadn’t been thinking at the time. All I’d needed was to get out of there.
I pushed my feet into my ballet flats and stared at myself in the mirror. The leggings I wore were one of two pairs that fit me, and the oversized tank top covered two-thirds of my bump. And as if on cue, the baby kicked me. If there was one thing that got me through each day, it was the tiny human growing inside me. If it weren’t for that, I wasn’t sure I would have survived the last five months. I was strong for the person I was bringing into this world, and I’d always be strong for it.
So many things had been taken away from me: Stella and Justin, my freedom, the feeling of safety I always relied on. But not one of them compared to losing Ford. He’d been my constant since I was a little girl. He was always there whenever I needed him, and even when I didn’t. But now I felt like I was floating on the wind, trying to find a branch to grab on to, but none of them were strong enough to hold me and all the baggage attached.
“Belle?” Curtis shouted, and I jumped from the sound of his voice. I was still staring in the mirror, but I hadn’t noticed the silent tears streaming down my cheeks. I hadn’t felt the wetness on my skin, but I could feel the pain deep down, so deep it had burrowed its way inside, and I feared it would never leave. It was part of me now, just as much as the baby was.
I shook my head and swiped at my face angrily. I shouldn’t have been thinking about the past. I shouldn’t have been thinking about anything but what was right in front of me—going to the diner and filling up my empty stomach.
So I did just that.
I made small talk with Curtis on the quick drive into town, and when we pulled up outside the diner, I got out and smiled at him. It didn’t matter what I was feeling inside. All that mattered was putting on a brave face. The longer I faked it, the quicker I’d make it real. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
We made our way to our favorite booth in the back corner, next to the window. It was where we’d taken to sitting, and sometimes I wondered if we chose this spot because, subconsciously, we were leaving room for the two people who were no longer with us. Curtis slipped in opposite me, and I couldn’t help but see Stella’s face. The four of us had always filled up a booth, but now there were only two left, which meant the booth would always be half empty.
“Hey,” Curtis murmured, and his hand landed over mine on the table. I flicked my gaze up at him and hoped my eyes weren’t shining with more tears threatening to fall, but whatever I was thinking, he must have been thinking the same, because he smiled sadly and squeezed my hand. “It’s hard without them.”
I nodded, not sure I trusted myself to say anything and not break down completely. I wanted to blame the hormones, but the reality was, I wasn’t over everything that had happened. I liked to tell myself I was, but I wasn’t.
“I wonder if they found out who did it,” Curtis said, his voice sounding far away. His dark eyes met mine, and something swirled inside of them. I had no idea if they had found who killed them, but I was hoping they had.
“Maybe,” I managed to whisper. I pushed my shoulders back and leaned my head on the booth. “I don’t want to think about it,” I told Curtis. I had to go back to the cabin on my own after this, and if all my mind was focused on was Stella and Justin, I’d spend the entire time I was alone worrying about what would happen if they hadn’t caught who did it.
“Okay,” Curtis said, his hand still covering mine. “Let’s talk about something else.” He flicked his gaze out of the window and then back to me as the waitress halted at the edge of our table.
“Hey, Curtis,” she greeted, her voice sickly sweet, and I stared at her. She was watching him like he was a piece of pie, and she was desperate to have a taste. Sandy wasn’t the most inconspicuous of people, and I knew she spent her nights at the bar when Curtis was working. It didn’t bother me one bit, although part of me wished it did, because then at least I could have another emotion apart from the sadness encompassing me.