I think I did too for a moment, but I feel like I can stand on myown. “Yeah, I’m good.”
As my feet touch the pavement, it feels like the sky should be dark with lightning and thunder clouds, but the evening air is warm, quiet, and calm. Riggs cups my cheek with, “I’m so sorry, Maddie. I know how hard this is. Let me take you somewhere safe.”
That releases the floodgates and a new batch of tears cascade down my face as I lean into him for support. I’m so thankful he’s here. And he’s right, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face.
How can she be gone?
God, I just want to die.
CHAPTER 25
Riggs
“Breathe.”
She’s sobbing so hard she can hardly catch her breath. I’m holding her, rubbing her back. Everything about this sucks. I remember getting the news about our mom. Worst day ever.
We need to get out of here.
I manage to get her back to the hotel and into my room where I make her a cup of hot chocolate from the fully stocked kitchen. It was a choice between coffee, soda, alcohol, or this, and chocolate seemed like the best fit for what she’s going through. It’s a while before she finally runs out of tears.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she says, holding the mug close to her chest.
We’re facing each other on the sofa in the living room, my hand on her knee. It seems right to maintain contact with her. “I can see how you would think that. Do you want me to call Rhonda?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll tell her later.”
“I’ll let Ash know we’re going to skip the show and ask him to let Rhonda know we made other plans.”
“Thanks. I just need some time.”
She’s been staring at the floor this whole time but suddenly, she looks up. “Does this make me a terrible friend?”
I give her knee a squeeze. “Don’t do that. Trust me, it doesn’t end well.”
“Do what?”
“Second-guess yourself. Let’s stay focused on your mother. You regret coming here because…”
“Seriously? I could have been with her.”
“How?”
She shoots me an incredulous look like she can’t believe I’m challenging her. “What do you mean how? I would have been there when she—”
“It’s Friday,” I point out cutting her off. “It sounds like she passed when you would have been at work, so you would have found her when you got home. Nothing would have been different.”
I can see she’s thinking that through, so this is a good time to throw another question at her. “How do you see what’s happened?”
Her brows draw together. “My mother’s gone. What way is there to see it?”
“How has she been over the past several months? Were the meds making her sick? Was she miserable? Could she sleep? Was she exhausted, tired, depressed, scared?”
Again, she’s thinking.
Before she can answer, I continue. “She’s not any of those things now. She’s free. Her suffering has finally come to an end and she’s happy now.”
She mulls that over for a minute before turningto me with, “You really believe that?”
