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I grab my phone from the coffee table when it buzzes with a text.
Gage: We’re en route to Chloe’s with food.
He called earlier to check on me, asked about Chloe, and said him and Lauren would be over with enough baked goods to last a month—all prepared by Lauren’s mother. I asked them to make a pit stop at the diner and pick up a takeout order for Trey and me.
I haven’t heard from Chloe since she left for the hospital. She needs time and space to process everything.
Eventually, Trey wandered into the living room with a blank stare on his face. I handed him the remote when he sat down on the other end of the couch. He chose the movie, and we sat in silence while watching it. Just like with Chloe, I’m giving him time.
We haven’t discussed us being brothers, but I’ll approach the conversation when the time is right. The day after losing his sister isn’t. I’ve been a good brother to my siblings, and I don’t mind being the same for Trey.
My fallout with Chloe won’t stop me from comforting her while she endures her loss. Have I forgotten about the chaos her family has caused mine? No. Right now, that issue isn’t at the top of my priority list.
I didn’t know Gloria long, but I cared for her. This morning, when Chloe asked me to shut Gloria’s bedroom door, tears threatened my eyes when I noticed the sparkly red shoes in the corner and the stuffed Toto on the bed. My throat choked up as I took in the dolls, the coloring books, all the memories and toys of a sweet girl taken away too early.
Fuck.I want to kill Claudia myself.
Lauren wraps me in a hug as soon as I answer the door. She was on shift when Claudia was brought into the ER and assigned her nurse until she was transferred to another floor. Lauren said her tongue hurt from biting it all night while caring for her.
Claudia’s toxicology report came back, confirming alcohol and heroin flowed through her bloodstream at the time of the accident. She’d fallen asleep at the wheel and suffered minor injuries—a concussion and internal bleeding. She’ll be taken straight to the county jail upon her release.
Lauren and Gage don’t stay long, and Trey devours his cheeseburger before moving on to the cupcakes. An hour later, he’s asleep on the couch, and it’s time for me to leave for work. Both my lieutenant and Gage offered to give me the evening off, but I declined. No one could cover my shift, and I wasn’t going to leave Gage to work alone.
I text Chloe before leaving, telling her, if she needs anything, don’t hesitate to call, but receive nothing back.
It’s the same when my shift ends at midnight.
* * *
Chloe’s caris in the driveway when Gage drops me off, and I dig out the house key she gave me earlier today after asking if I’d come over later. I was reluctant to come so late since she still hadn’t returned my text, but my house key is here, so I have no choice.
The house is quiet when I walk in, and a light shines from the kitchen. I tiptoe down the hall to find Chloe sitting at the table, staring blankly at the papers and documents scattered along it. It appears to be work files, paperwork she was given last night regarding Claudia, Gloria, the accident, and bills. I stop mid-step when I notice what’s in her hand—a packet regarding funeral arrangements.
She chokes out a cry, unaware I’m here, and slams her hand over her mouth, as if it were a crime for her to break down. I hesitate before moving closer, and she takes in my presence in discomfort.
“Chloe, talk to me,” I beg.
She stiffens in her chair and avoids eye contact. “You don’t have to be here.” The words leave her mouth calmly but chillingly.
Where is this coming from?
Before she left for the hospital, she thanked me for being there for her and Trey. All of a sudden, in a ten-hour span, everything has changed.
Something happened.
I draw in closer and stop in front of the table. “I know, but I want to be here.”
She stands, almost robotically. She grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and rests with her back against the cabinet. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“Feel sorry for you?” I throw back. “I’m hurting that you’re hurting. Your heart is broken, and all I want to do is help! To make you feel better!”
She throws the bottle across the room before thrusting her finger in my direction. “Fuck you! You wanted nothing to do with me before Gloria’s death. You came into my bedroom, fucked me, and then told me toget fucked! Don’t think you can step in here and act like you’re some hero. I can do it on my own! I can save myself. Now, I’m kindly asking you to leave.”
It takes me what feels like a minute to speak. “Chloe.”
She vacantly stares at me. “Leave.”
My eyes lock with hers. “I’m sorry.” Regret lodges in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I repeat, not moving any closer to her. “I’m fucking sorry for not allowing you to explain yourself. It was my mistake, and I’m willing to listen when you’re ready, but right now, right fucking now, that’s the last of my concern. Does that mean I’ll forget what went down? No, but you need a friend, and I’m here.”
