She huffs a laugh but shakes her head. “No. I think that they resent me for leaving. I get it, but…I’m twenty-eight and have nothing to show for my life. I’ve been a nurse for years and I’m barely getting by, even living here. It’s a terrible thing to think about, but sometimes, I wish he’d just go.”
That he’d die.
Damn. That’s heavy. She sounds so exhausted when she says it, and I feel that weight sitting in the vehicle with us. The pain of loving someone who's sick can’t be easy. Watching them live their life in pain, day in and day out. I can only imagine how taxing that would be, even if you aren’t there to see it every day.
It also explains why she’s livinghere. She has no choice. It’s her only option. The pieces that make up who Arden is are slowly starting to come together to form a full picture.
“I think that’s more of a normal feeling than you’d think.”
She shakes her head, unbuckling herself before we’re even at her complex. “I’m sorry for unloading that on you. That wasn’t fair. That’s not like me, either.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” I tell her, and she must hear the sincerity in my voice, because she relaxes a bit. “I know wejust met, Red, but if you’re keeping all that shit inside, I don’t mind being the ear that you use when you feel like screaming. If there is one thing I understand, it’s anger.”
She smiles tightly, angles her head like she’s seeing me in a bit of a different light after this conversation, too.
“Thanks.”
I nod because I meant every word.
“But yeah. That’s never going to happen.” She laughs under her breath. “I wouldn’t do that to you. The long, haunted history of the Doll family has yet to taint your soul and I’d like to keep it that way.”
My ears perk up for two reasons. One, because I now know her last name. Two, because what the fuck does all that mean?
I pull into her lot and put the G-Wagon into park. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have never known that she just had a mini meltdown in my passenger seat. Her face is perfect and clear, her smile soft and tired. Her eyes are a bit glassy, but that’s all.
She’s good at pretending, Arden Doll.
“The offer still stands, Red. Alright?”
She angles her head again, in that way I am growing to find endearing, and reaches forward to put her hand on my arm. “Thanks, Carter, and thank you for tonight. Surprisingly, I had a good time. Who knew you were such good company?”
“I mean,” I scrunch up my face, acting offended, “everyone? You were the odd man out there.”
She waves me off, throwing open the door to the vehicle. “Yeah, yeah. See you, Carter.”
“In your dreams? Or just around?”
I get a glare for that one. A glare that makes her eyes a bit brighter, anyway. She shuts the door, shaking her head, and walks toward her apartment. She tosses me a wave over her shoulder as she pries open the door, and my smile slowlyvanishes, thinking about the way she crumbled beside me. The way that one phone call had her bracing for impact before she even answered it.
She’s a bit stoic, but I’m starting to gather why. She has to be. Her only living parent is extremely sick with one of the worst conditions he can have, and she’s trying to take care of him, her sisters, and herself at the same time. It’s clear by where she’s living that she’s putting herself dead last on the list of priorities.
I feel a bit mad at the universe now. That’s a heavy hand for one person to be dealt. I might not have known her for long, but I have gathered enough to know she’s a good girl. She’s got a no-bullshit attitude and a massive chip on her shoulder, but it’s all part of her charm. Good morals, or she would have sold that story about Lowesy the second she could have. She definitely would have benefited from the money.
She’s one of the good ones, too, even if she tries to convince the world she’s not.
I see right through her act.
The world owes her a debt for what it’s put her through.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
arden
I’m halfwaythrough my shift when I’m called to the front desk. Expecting a patient I have to tend to, I stop short when I see a tall, gorgeous man with a buzzed head of blond hair standing by the intake desk. He’s in an olive green crewneck and light brown joggers, talking animatedly with Susan, who is eating it up, of course. I can’t blame her.
It’s Carter Forkerro.
He’s laying it on thick, too. All pearly whites and sparkly eyes. Winks at her more than once, and I’ve only been standing here for a few seconds. I’m not sure how he knows where I work. I’m positive I didn’t mention it, but still, I don’t like that he’s just showing up unannounced. And clearly, he’s asking for me.
