AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My hand slips from his hold as I take a step forward to look around. I scan the living room with the low sitting sectional couch, glass coffee table, and massive big-screen TV mounted above a mock fireplace. The color scheme is black and gray with a few pops of white.
Even the kitchen counters and cupboards are black.
Glancing around, I run my hands up and down my arms. There isn’t anything particularly wrong with the space, but it feels off for some reason. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“After what happened with Dean when I was sixteen, I swore never to let myself trust anyone outside of my family enough to get that close to me. I’ve never had anyone outside of my family over here.” I keep my back to him. “But that isn’t why I’ve never brought you here.
“This week is the first time I’ve been back here in months,” Kyle says, coming up behind me. “I’ve lived here for four years and never realized how much it never felt like home. Not until moving in with you.”
He turns me to face him.
“That’s why I never brought you here. After that first weekend at your place, this space never felt like it fit anymore. I wanted to be around color, sleep in a bed with so many pillows that it’s almost inhabitable for human bodies.”
“Shut up.” I shove his shoulder, making him laugh. He’s always teasing me about the number of pillows on my bed.
“Most importantly, this place didn’t have you. Wherever you are is my home, Riley.” His eyes circle his condo as if taking it in for the first time. “I knew you wouldn’t love it here.”
I turn and look over his space again. He’s right. As beautiful as this condo is, it isn’t me. It feels cold.
“This is where you’ve been this week?”
“A few nights. I also went to L.A.”
“For business.”
He nods. “I paid Chastain back for the money you took from him.”
I gasp. “I wanted to do that.” I’d told him that months ago that I had been saving money to pay Chastain back.
“I know, but I don’t ever want you to be in the same room as him. I made him sign a nondisclosure contract that’s rock solid. He’s not allowed to ever mention your name again.”
“He’s still breathing, right?” I squint at Kyle.
“For the most part.”
“Kyle …”
“He’s alive and he’ll never bother us again. Aside from that, I was never far from you.”
“Is that all you had to tell me?” I ask.
“Partially.” He takes my hand and walks us over to the living room. On the coffee table there’s a folder. Kyle picks it up and hands it to me.
“What’s this?”
He dips his head at the folder. “Open it.”
I scan the first page of the documents. “Brightside Community Shelter,” I whisper the words. My vision blurs. “Did you …”
“You said you wanted to honor Edith Warnock, the woman who helped you so much when you were living at the shelter. It’s in partnership with Girls on the Move. I’ve donated the funds to have the shelter built and to get it started and running for the first two years. It’s strictly for homeless teens and young adults with juvenile records.
“It’ll have education courses, computer skills, technical training, and even grants for those wanting to start a business. I thought Brightside would be a fitting name. Both for Edith and because that’s how you make everyone around you feel. Without noticing, you are the bright side people are looking for.”
I look him in the eye. “Even you?”
“Especially me.”
Another flood of tears.
