AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t know how long we stand there, silently steaming with the energy that is nothing like what we shared hours ago, but similar.
Our earlier heat brought us release. The heat now brings nothing but a bitter aftertaste.
“Let. Me. Go. I need to check on Dad.”
I drop her hand and watch her leave.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
* * *
London’s contradictions keep me awake for the rest of the night. She punishes herself, but by doing so she punishes those around her, keeping her distance.
With everything she does, she is the winner and the loser at the same time. She wraps her good heart in a red layer of snarl.
Her survival mechanism is ridiculous. And apparently ridiculously effective as I find myself knocking on her door the following morning.
I tell myself it’s to check on Micah and make sure they don’t need anything. Well, I’ve never been above lying. But to myself?
“Dom. How are you?” Bianca ushers me in.
“How is he doing?” I follow her to the kitchen and she gestures to a pot of coffee, her usual hospitality abandoned. I pour myself a cup and sit across from her.
She nurses her tea, lines of exhaustion marking her face. “The fever broke. Doctor is coming later today to check on him, run some tests and determine the next steps.”
We sit in silence, because any hope voiced sounds pathetic in my mind. “How is Chils?”
Bianca sighs. “Lo takes on all the burden in the world and faces mortality on a daily basis through her work, but this is too close to home. Has she told you about Kyle?”
I nod.
“She’s never accepted that he chose to die alone because he wanted her to enjoy her trip in Europe. She channeled that guilt and disappointment into something great, the foundation and other charitable endeavors. She also grabs all the opportunities to have fun. To live fully because she believes she needs to do it for Kyle. To experience everything he didn’t have a chance to. So she spends her money on adventures. But it’s been years now, and instead of finding closure and acceptance, she’s learned to live with the guilt.
“She controls her environment carefully to ensure she doesn’t get attached. But this is different because it’s her dad. She lost her mother, her first love, and now…” Bianca reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’m so glad she has you now. This is not a situation she should face alone.”
I swallow the acid ball forming in my throat and squeeze back gently before removing my hand. I’m a fraud. A damn fraud.
I can’t change the terms of our arrangement, but I can play her fake boyfriend so Chils can sort through her feelings. Even if it’s through yelling or a hate fuck. I owe her at least that much after she unintentionally helped me out of my slump.
Her company, the case with Felicia Warner and, well, last night have contributed to my recovery. The least I can do is to stand by her at this difficult time.
“She should be out any minute. She’s just getting dressed. You should go with her to the hospice. It’s a humbling experience, but also empowering.” Bianca takes her cup to the sink. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to lie down.”
I stand up, feeling strangely lonely in the middle of London’s kitchen, knowing she doesn’t want me here.
“What are you doing here?” She appears before I have a chance to consider what to do next.
“Good morning to you too, Chils. I’m waiting for you.” I smile. She’s dressed in black jeans and a light brown sweater that seems a size too big. It covers her curves like a promise. Who knew a baggy sweater could be this sexy?
Her pale lipstick makes her skin glow in contrast. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail. I clench my fists, remembering the feel of those strands in my palms.
“Why?” She pours a cup of coffee and leans against the counter, watching me. She looks exhausted, the dark shadows under her eyes profound.
For some strange reason I want to take her in my arms and figure out the way to make everything better. What is it with this streak of compassion?
“To accompany you to the hospice,” I say, as if I was planning it to begin with.
She cocks her head. “Why?”
