29
SEBASTIAN
I’d been dozing off on the couch when her call came. She had never sounded like that before. Nasally, erratic, anxious. I’d considered begging her to stay on the phone with me while she drove over. Or hell, getting in my truck and meeting her wherever she was because it didn’t seem safe for her to be behind the wheel.
What the hell had happened?
In record time, less than half an hour, the crunch of tires on gravel sounded down the driveway. Before she even parked the car, I was in the threshold. She stepped out, but the first thing visible was the potato covered in fluff that bolted around her front bumper.
“Hey, Honey,” I called.
Her big ears pointed toward the deep blue sky speckled with snowflakes and stars. Tongue flapping out of her jaws, she raced toward me and barreled up the stone stairs.
I bent down to greet her but kept my eyes on Gwen. She wore a pair of jeans and a tattered Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt with a baggy zip-up hoodie, trekking slowly up the steps. Each moveshe made was weighted by some invisible force. Like something sat heavy on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of her mouth. “I’m so sorry for bothering you. Showing up like this. I know it’s late.”
When would she realize that I didn’t care what time of day it was? If she needed me, I would be there. For anything, anytime, anyplace.
“Don’t be sorry.” I straightened up with Honey’s leash in hand. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”
Now only a few strides away, she wiggled her brows but didn’t meet my gaze. Her eyes flickered over the estate. The stone walls, the turrets, the fountain in the center of the wraparound driveway.
“I get why you kept this place,” she said. “It’s really pretty. Has this whole classic, goth vibe to it. Kinda dark, kinda gloomy, but classic and regal and—and it’s not you.” A half laugh escaped her. “Like, not at all the style I thought you’d be into. But it’s nice. Really nice.”
“Dark and gloomy is the vibe I get too.” I lifted the bag that hung over her shoulder while her gaze wandered. “But yeah, not my taste. Lizzie can decide what she wants to do with it when she’s old enough.”
Gwen still wouldn’t look at me. Too busy admiring the sculpted winged babies around the arched doorway. Gently, I caught her cheek. She jolted at the cold temperature, then relaxed into my touch. Our eyes finally met.
The whites of her blue eyes were red as roses. They were almost as puffy and swollen as her lips. Her pink nose watered, and she sniffled.
Something was wrong.
Something awful.
And I was who she came to.
I traced my thumb along her cheek. “What’s the matter, Gwen?”
“I, um—” A sharp breath cut her off. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I came here. It’s late, and you were probably getting ready for bed, and?—”
“And I’m here.” Keeping my voice soft, I held her face just a little tighter. Enough to make sure she knew I wasn’t letting go. “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere, and I meant it. Don’t apologize for cashing in a check I gave you. What’s going on, Gwen?”
Her eyes softened. For the first time, beyond any doubt, I saw tears form across them. Like that was the greatest thing I could’ve ever told her.
Had she ever had this? Someone she could count on? Someone who didn’t just tell her they were there for her, but proved it?
She spoke, hardly above a whisper. “Delilah. My friend Delilah, she’s dead. They think it was a suicide, but I know it wasn’t. Someone killed her. And—and I don’t know. I thought I wanted to be alone, but my chest is so tight, and my head won’t stop pounding, and I can’t stop thinking about everything she’s not gonna get to experience now. Everything she’s missing. All the dreams she had, all the goals she was working toward, it’s all gone. She’s gone. I’m never going to see her again, and, and—I just wanted to see you. Simone told me I could call her, but I didn’t want to be with her right now. I wanted to be with you.”
My mouth dropped open, eyes as wide as the fields that stretched on my left and right. It took playing that over a few times in my mind before it registered. I hadn’t processed all of it, not that the grief was mine to sit in any way, but I heard the important parts loud and clear.
Gwen was hurting, and she needed me. She wanted me to be the one who held her and comforted her, and for someone whoasked so little of everyone else, who never asked for help, that was the greatest honor.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, twisting my arms around her waist. I didn’t need to pull her in. She collapsed into me. Her fingers were like vice grips around my back. She grasped me so tight, as if the two of us were hanging off a cliff, and I was the one who held the rope. So long as she didn’t let me go, she’d survive. “I’m so sorry, Gwen.”
We stayed there for a while,just holding one another in the entryway. Gwen was so disoriented, she didn’t seem to notice how cold her hands were becoming.
I ushered her inside and asked if she was okay. She shrugged and shook her head, which I took as answer enough. Not that it would make much of a difference, but I offered her a drink or something to eat, and she declined both. Swallowing hard in the entryway, she glanced around and asked if there was somewhere she could lie down.
