AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She did.” Lifting her head, she meets my gaze. “She knew why I didn’t want to come back. But it doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t. I could have seen her more often, but I was a coward.”
“Sweetheart, you aren’t.”
“I was.” Thea doesn’t back down. “Back then, I was.”
Looking at her pale face, sorrow dragging down her features, I want nothing more than to gather her in my arms and protect her from everything. “We don’t need to talk about this right now. I know you’re tired.”
“But I do.” Jaw tightening, she visibly gathers herself. “I said I’d tell you who Mrs. Richardson—Stella—is. And she’s a part of it. Why I left after high school and waited so long to move back.”
“All senior year, I dated her son. Liam. He was my first real boyfriend. I wasn’t in love with him—” She gives me a sad smile. “But I cared about him. We probably wouldn’t have stayed together in college…”
“I get it.” I thread my fingers through her hair, resting my hand at her nape and massaging gently.
“We probably would have split up that summer,” Thea says thoughtfully. “Or once we got to college. But in June, getting ready to graduate, I wasn’t thinking about that. Until—”
With each word, Thea’s body gets more tense, her fingers tightening around mine. After another heavy exhale, her words come out in a rush. “He cheated on me. And back then, it was heartbreaking.”
“Ah, Thea. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that.” Her eyes turn a deep twilight, dark with regret. “I would have gotten over it, in time. But then… Liam died. He was drunk, and he crashed his car after a party. The party where I caught him cheating. And I felt so guilty that I hadn’t stopped him. I tried, but…”
I lift her hand and kiss it softly. “That wasn’t your fault.”
Emotion washes across her face. Quietly, she says, “Mrs. Richardson didn’t agree.”
What? “She thought you were supposed to stop a drunk high school boy? Who was probably twice your size?”
Thea stares down at her lap, shoulders sagging. Silence drags until she finally answers in a flat tone. “Yes.” Lifting her gaze to me, she asks, “Can we stop talking about this now? I know I brought it up, but—”
“Of course.” And she looks so damn sad and tired and vulnerable, pain spears into my heart to see her this way. So I do what I’ve been wanting since this conversation started, gathering her in my arms and lifting her onto my lap. I tuck her head under my chin, feeling her soft breath whispering against my neck. “I’ve got you.”
And we sit this way for what must be an hour, with me telling Thea about the most inane and non-stressful things I can think of. Nothing that involves a response beyond a nod or okay.
I tell her about Laila’s new third-grade teacher—who has not just one, but two pet guinea pigs in the classroom—which Laila is very excited about. I recall some of the funny headlines I saw in the news, definitely nothing depressing or violent.
It’s when I’m explaining about my most recent job, one that involves encryption and backdoors and VPNs that Thea fully relaxes against me, finally succumbing to sleep.
She makes this adorable huffing noise as she sleeps, tiny breaths puffed through her parted lips. A curl falls over her cheek and I brush it away, my finger lingering on her silken skin. My heart somehow constricts and expands at the same time, both painful and perfect.
After another half hour of holding Thea in my lap, I make a decision. She’s not going home tonight.
I won’t put her in my bed—not without talking to Thea and preparing Laila first. But she can sleep in the guest room, close enough to mine that I can hear if she needs anything.
How long has it been since she got a good night’s sleep?
Long enough that Thea doesn’t even stir as I get her into one of my T-shirts, or when I tuck her beneath the covers, or when I kiss her gently on the forehead. Brushing my hand over her hair, looking down at her peaceful features, a tidal wave of protectiveness slams into me, so powerful I’m breathless from it.
I leave the light on the nightstand on but dimmed, so Thea doesn’t wake up and panic, not knowing where she is. Once she’s all settled, I check on Laila, who’s hugging her new book in her sleep.
It’s still too early for me to go to bed, so I turn the TV on low and put on a low-budget sci-fi movie; this time something about killer squids from outer space who hide out in an aquarium.
The movie is halfway through when another noise catches my attention.
As soon as I mute the sound on the TV, I hear it again.
A soft whimper, followed by a muffled cry.
I leap up and race into the hallway, heading toward the bedrooms. I check Laila’s first, though I’m fairly certain it isn’t her. She doesn’t typically have nightmares, and when she does, she wakes up right away and comes running to me.
