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“Merry Christmas, Izzy. I just called to let you know that Mom died a little ago. She wanted you to know that she loved you and, well . . . If you want to see her or anything you know how to reach me. Love you.”
“This is Cedric Lewis. You know what to do.”
“Hi, Cee. I’m sure Izzy will give you the news but if not, Mom died. I miss you, big brother.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Gabriel
We’re having Christmas dinner when my phone rings. Mom glares at me. I know I shouldn’t answer, especially during a family gathering on this special day, but something in my gut tells me it’s urgent. I wish I had brought Ameline here, but with her mom sick, she wouldn’t have enjoyed this crowd.
I should’ve stayed with her. In fact, I almost skipped this, but Piper was insistent and since I didn’t have a good excuse to go home and avoid the family . . . Well, here I am, stuck with the Deckers and missing Ameline like crazy.
As we finish eating, I finally check the text lighting up my phone. It’s from Ameline.
Ame: Mom died.
Fuck. The word hisses through my mind but stays locked behind my lips. Ameline’s alone, grieving. Regret squeezes my lungs. I should have stayed with her.
“Everything okay, Gabe?” Mom’s forehead creases.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
She frowns. “Something is wrong, what is it?”
I swallow hard. “Ameline texted me. Her mom just died.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Mom reaches across the table, her hand covering mine.
“Whose mom died?” Lyric asks.
“Ameline’s,” I respond.
“Oh, wasn’t that your roommate’s sister? She was so cool, I hope that we can catch up with her before I have to go back to school.” Lyric smiles at first then frowns at her unintentional faux pas. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry for her loss.”
I nod in agreement, my throat tightening because what I should have said is, “No. She’s my wife. My wife. The woman I love, and I should be with her in this painful moment.”
All I can say is, “I’m leaving, so I can check on her.” I push back my chair, the legs screeching against the floor.
Mom’s hand clamps around my wrist. “But we’re still celebrating Christmas. You could check on her tomorrow. Aren’t you staying for the night? It’s a tradition.”
I gently pry away her fingers. “She’s alone. There might be a few things I need to help her with.”
Mom’s brows pinch together. “What about her family?”
“Right now, I’m all she has, Mom.”
Mom nods as if understanding. “That makes sense. Call us if you need us, okay?”
I hug her. “Of course.”
As I leave, Ameline’s text replays in my mind. Mom died.
Fuck. I slam my palm against the steering wheel. She was all alone when it happened. And I wasn’t there for her. Some husband I am.
I dial her number as I’m heading home, but she doesn’t answer. While gripping the steering wheel, I keep touching the speed dial number repeatedly. My calls continue to go to voicemail. The fear of not knowing what’s happening to Ameline is crushing my lungs, and I’m unable to breathe. What if she had a seizure or something worse happened to her? The thought of losing her is terrifying.
Tires squeal as I take a turn too fast. I’m just so desperate to get to her. To wrap my arms around her. I finally pull into the driveway, gravel crunching under my tires. The house seems dark. Not even the front porch lights are on.
