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“Yes.”
I glanced at her briefly. Tears were streaming down her face as she mourned the lives lost. That was the last image I would ever have of her. Turning I walked away. From Sea Breeze. From happiness. From a life I would never deserve.
As I stepped into the parking lot I saw the familiar black G-Wagon that belonged to my father. He stepped out of the driver’s side and my Uncle Grant stepped out of the passenger side. They both looked at me then my father started toward me.
When his arms wrapped around me I was five years old again and this was my safe place. But dad couldn’t ease my heartache this time. “Grant’s gonna drive your truck back. Get in the car with me,” he said gruffly. He was hurting too. I’d caused all this. Me. And my fucking selfish need for a woman.
Bliss York
IT WAS AS if my emotions were warring with each other over who would win. Who was the most powerful. I’m not sure how I walked back to my condo from the beach out front. I don’t remember it. My thoughts were clouded with pain, sorrow, disbelief, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say.
He hadn’t wanted my comfort. There were no words I could have spoken that seemed right. No way to beg him not to leave me. To let me help him grieve. I couldn’t grieve for him. This was a blow that went deep and brutal. I had faced death. And while facing it my concern had been for those I’d leave behind. The pain I would inflict. I had fought when I wasn’t sure I had any fight left because I wouldn’t let them suffer my death.
But Nate . . . he would have to live through not only the death of his child but a terrible tragedy. One that would wound him in a way I couldn’t bear to think about. I wanted to be there for him. I hated letting him go. But he’d not wanted me.
Thinking about me and my loss wasn’t fair. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t hurt for me. Because I had loved a man and lost him. He had never even got to hold his son. I’d mourn but I’d mourn for him. Not because I lost him but because of what he lost. I loved Nate Finlay even if that love had been one sided. It was enough for me. I knew what love was. I had experienced it twice for very short times. But both with him.
The door opened and Eli was standing there. His face etched with worry and concern. “I saw him leave with two men. One drove him the other drove his truck. He had his duffel bag. Are you okay? What did he do?”
I just stood there trying to listen. Knowing I had to say something to Eli but my soul felt so fractured that it hurt to think. To stand. To speak.
“I swear to God I will track his sorry rich spoiled ass down and beat it! What did he do?”
Eli was angry. Worried that Nate had hurt me. He had but he had no other choice. He was hurting worse. I understood that.
“Octavia hung herself, Eli. And she was pregnant with his son.”
Eli’s anger blew out like a candle. His face dropped and the horror of my words registered on his face.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“He’s gone.” Those two words didn’t say everything but they didn’t have to. Eli knew. Nate was gone and he wouldn’t be back. I felt like a horrible person for even grieving over losing him. Before I even got to enjoy loving him.
Eli’s arms were around me and once there I let the pain go. The sobbing for all Nate had lost. What he’d never have and for what we would never have.
I woke the next morning in my bed but my clothes were still on. Eli had held me while I cried last night on the sofa. That was the last thing I remembered. I must have fallen sleep. I touched my eyes. They felt raw and swollen. The ache in my chest was still there and I stared up at the ceiling. Today was like any other day. I’d get up, eat, get dressed, go to work. Life would go one. Except my heart was somewhere else. With someone else. And I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t hold him as Eli had held me
There was a soft knock on my door and then it slowly opened and Eli peeked in. “Oh you’re awake,” he said opening it wider and coming inside.
“I’ll get you some coffee. What do you feel like eating?”
He was treating me like I had just lost my child. Like this horrific reality was mine. Who was making sure Nate had something to eat? Was there someone he would allow to hold him? Had he cried? Sobbed for the emptiness and grieved? Who was with him?
