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Mallory was getting ready to leave for work early Tuesday morning, telling herself and her daughters that it was the first day of the rest of their lives, when she heard a knock at the door. Who was there at six in the morning?
Frightened, she grabbed her cell phone, just as it started to ring.
Braden?
How could he possibly know she was in trouble?
“Bray?”
“Yeah, it’s me outside. I should have called first. I’m sorry.”
Rushing through the house in her stocking feet but otherwise dressed for work, she pulled open the front door. He’d sounded horrible.
He stood there with a kennel in his hand. She could see a dog inside. It didn’t appear to be moving.
Braden’s eyes were red-rimmed. His hair was a mess, his pants and dress shirt wrinkled.
Had he been up all night?
“Braden, what’s going on?” She looked at the kennel again.
He didn’t do dogs. Years ago she’d suggested they get one, thinking it would be a friend to Tucker growing up, but he’d categorically refused.
“I hit him,” he said, holding up the kennel. “On the way back to L.A. last week, I ran over him with my car.”
And he’d kept him in a kennel?
Opening the door wider, she let the man in. He was clearly not himself. She just had to figure out what she was dealing with so she’d know whom to call.
It briefly occurred to her that they’d just promised they wouldn’t do this. They wouldn’t call on each other in need or support each other.
But there was no way she was turning him away this morning.
He sat on her couch, putting the kennel with the unmoving animal at his feet.
“Have you been drinking? Are you sick?” She sat on the edge of the couch, a foot away from him. Should she call a doctor?
“No.”
“You look awful, Bray.”
“I’ve been up all night.”
“I thought you said the accident was a week ago.”
“It was,” he said. “Nine days, actually.”
The night after they’d last seen each other. She knew the number of days, too.
He looked at her. His chin trembled, his eyes welled.
Tears didn’t fall. At least his didn’t.
Mallory’s did.
“Bray?”
“It’s not your emotion I can’t handle, Mal. It’s my own. I wasn’t blocking you, I was blocking me. Seeing you upset would upset me, and so I blocked.”
