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“You have people that love you, Maggie. If you’d just let us be here for you…”
Perrin might love her, but since losing Nash, any level of affection hurt. Her mother couldn’t fathom the loss, because she never truly respected their marriage. Her dad had attended the funeral but never once offered words of condolence. Between his coldness and her judgement, Maggie couldn’t bear their proximity. Perrin was a part of them by default. Even though she saw Maggie’s grief for the trauma it was, she’d never fully grasped the totality of it.
Maggie swallowed and dropped her gaze. “It’s better if I’m alone.” If she learned to be alone, it wouldn’t hurt as bad the next time she lost someone. “I have to get to my appointment.”
“Can we do something next weekend? Even if we have a crappy time, let’s do something.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “Let’s go shoe shopping.”
Maggie’s face scrunched. “I hate shopping.”
“We could get makeovers.”
“You must have me confused with someone else.”
“Fine.” She glanced around the kitchen. “What about house shopping? We could get you a new couch.”
Sharp possessiveness spiked inside of her. “What’s wrong with my couch?”
“Um, it’s old and hideous.”
“It’s not old,” Maggie said with a bite of defensiveness. “We bought it when we got our apartment.”
“Maggie, that was almost ten years ago.”
“So?”
“So, it’s outdated. Buy yourself something new. Brighten up this place.”
“If I want to brighten things up, I’ll buy a lamp. I’m not getting rid of my couch.”
She and Nash had picked out that couch. They spent weeks shopping around and sitting on various styles. It was their first big purchase after deciding to move in together. They’d made love on it countless times, built forts around it, and had pillow fights on it. She used to lay there with her eyes closed and listen to him play the piano.
“Maggie, you’re never going to move on if you continue to live in the past.”
Feeling under attack, she dumped her coffee down the drain. Everyone thought they had a solution she was missing, like replacing her sofa could somehow heal the ache in her heart or the splinters in her soul. She tossed the cup in the garbage and turned, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I was happy in the past. Maybe I like it there.”
“But you’re not happy now. There’s so much more out there, except you refuse to open your eyes to new possibilities. This isn’t living, it’s sleepwalking.”
“I’m living!” she snapped, jabbing a finger toward her chest. “If I wasn’t alive, this wouldn’t hurt so much.”
“I know you’re in pain, but hiding behind that pain won’t protect you from future loss. Life changes, Maggie, and one day you’re going to need family again, but you’ll have chased everyone who cared about you away.”
“Maybe I just want to be left the hell alone!” she snapped and silence fell over the kitchen.
Perrin’s brow pinched with regret. Her shoulders shrank as she let out a breath. She lowered her head. “Well, I better go.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” The words shot out with more accusation than gratitude.
“You’re welcome.” Her sister faced the door and hesitated. They used to hug all the time, and Maggie sensed her sister needing that contact now.
She couldn’t bear the intimacy. Nearness had a way of choking her.
Guilt tightened her insides, forming a physical nausea. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“I know it’s out of love, Perrin.” But love had become a terrifying thing since Nash left.
Hope flashed in her sister’s eyes as she looked back. “If you change your mind and want to do something later…”
Maggie crossed the kitchen and opened the back door, using it as a sort of shield between them. “Drive safe.”
“Call me later.”
“I will.” She wouldn’t.
“And call that therapist.”
She nodded, not vocalizing any promises.
Perrin’s smile didn’t reach her concerned eyes as she glanced back at Maggie. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” That one was free. Losing Nash had a way of making sure she never missed the opportunity to tell someone they were loved, even if her heart didn’t know how to receive those emotions from others anymore.
At the sound of her sister’s car pulling away, she plucked the pushpin on the corkboard free. Dr. Devereux’s business card fluttered into the garbage bin below.
“Sorry, doc. We’re just not meant to be.”
Chapter 2
Ryan Clooney pulled the string of the hanging light in the basement, then Luke whistled, the sound echoing off the cinder block walls. “You could make an awesome bar down here.”
Ryan grinned at his cousin’s suggestion. “That’s what I was thinking. I just have to redo the floors and paint—maybe add some sheetrock if I wanna get fancy.”
Luke approached a wall of exposed studs that divided the laundry area from the rest of the basement and gave the wood beams a shake. “Looks like the previous owners thought about finishing it at one time but got sidetracked.”
