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“Sit here and wait?” I scream. “Claudia is not getting out of this, Kyle. She does not get to heal or rest. She doesn’t even deserve another ounce of breath for what she did! You know who deserves that?” I seethe. “The little girl she neglected!ThatIneglected. That’s who deserves it. Not you.” I push him back again. “Not me.” My finger shoves into my chest. “She was only four fucking years old!”
Kyle lets me take my anger out on him and waits until I’m finished before speaking. “As soon as I can, I’ll take you to her. I swear it. I’ll let you say whatever you need to without anyone stopping you, okay?”
“Where do we go from here?” I whisper.
“You grieve and let me handle the rest.” He tilts his head toward Trey. “You two take care of each other.”
He moves from me to Trey and pulls him into a hug. “I’ll be home all night. Come over. Call. Anything you need, I’m here.”
“Will you … will you hang out here longer?” Trey asks, peering up at him.
“Of course,” Kyle answers. He says it with no question, no hesitation, no asking for permission.
The rest of the night, I’m numb. Angry. Like I’m not even present or alive. I walk through my house, emotionless, consoling Trey. I take phone calls, give police information, and answer as many questions as I can, but mentally, I’m checked out, not with it. I feel nothing, and along with feeling nothing, I can’t process my loss.
I go to bed with tears in my eyes.
When Kyle comes into my bedroom later, I don’t stop him.
When he holds me as I fight myself to sleep, I don’t stop him.
When I do fall asleep and wake up in the middle of the night, jerking from a nightmare, and he tightens his hold on me, I don’t stop him.
He does it again and again.
His arms never leave my body. His voice in my ear is soothing.
And that confirms more than I already know.
This man I love has a heart of gold and deserves someone less messed up, less deceitful than me.
27
Chloe
The warmth of Kyle’s chest brushes against my back when I wake up, and his arm is draped along my waist—a security blanket. My heart sinks, the tears simmering, when my memory is refreshed from last night’s nightmare. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was my reality.
I wince and inhale a sharp breath, feeling too numb to move.
Grief. Hurt. Regret.
They sucker-punch me. It seems surreal, and I’m nearly tempted to roll out of bed, pad down the hallway, and go to her room in hopes that I’ll find her sleeping. But it’d break me more. She’s gone. I failed her.
His arm tightens around me when he realizes I’m awake.
“Hi,” he simply says in a subdued voice.
I swallow. Even though his nearness provides comfort, it won’t erase what he said and did the last time he was here. That’s not important to bring up right now though. I’m too exhausted to fight, to nearly speak.
The sheets fall down my body, and his arms leave me when I sit up. My head spins, and seconds later, I’m close to falling back down. His arm curls around my stomach just in time, and a glass of water is offered my way.
“Here, drink this,” he whispers as I turn to face him.
“Thank you.” I gulp it down, realizing how dry my mouth was.
“What do you need me to do for you?” he asks, his tone gentle and kind, as if he’s prepared to pull the weight of my pain off me.
“I need to see Claudia,” is all I answer.
