AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He helps lift my legs and pulls a heavy gray duvet over my lap before sliding a tray within reach. Steam curls into the air from the hot bowl of a cream-based soup.
“You need to eat. Are the heaters too much?”
“They feel great.” I burrow into the fluffy mattress as the penetrating warmth brings along the fog of sleep. My heavy lids close.
The bed dips with Rhett’s weight. He fits himself behind me, legs bent so we’re touching from top to toe. One arm slips beneath my head, and the other wraps snug around my middle. He fiddles with a strand of hair fanned on the mattress.
“Whatever you need, I’m here,” he murmurs.
My breath hitches. “I know.”
“Nathan and Law are on their way to pick up your car.”
“Thank you.”
“Kiersten found us plane tickets for tomorrow. We’ll confirm with Caiti later after you’ve had some rest.” He goes on without waiting for my response. “Whatever Caiti needs too.”
“I can’t talk about this right now.” Or ever. This has to be a nightmare even though, deep down, I know it isn’t. Grief changes a person swiftly and without mercy. There’s no taking that sort of news back. No number of I’m sorrys will rearrange the gaping hole left behind. All I can do is place one foot in front of the other. One step at a time.
The rest will fall into place. Whatever that may be. Except I can’t see more than five minutes into my future because each time I try to think beyond that, the pain rears its ugly head and shows me all the happy and sad things in my life Eric will miss.
Rhett doesn’t respond. His arm cinches tighter, and his lips press firmly against the back of my head. I ride the feeling of his heavy inhale against my back. I focus on his steady breaths, allowing the rhythmic motion to quiet the storm for tonight.
As the first rays of dawn bled through the open curtains this morning, I snuck out of bed and turned off Rhett’s alarm an hour before it was due to sound. Cami had already taken Ghost home with her in preparation for us to leave, so my priorities were sorted. I drove myself to the airport without Rhett and haphazardly shoved items from my car into a carry-on. Caiti needs me without distractions, and bringing Rhett along would allow my own pain to engulf me.
I need to remain strong.
A swoop of turbulence sends my heart into overdrive. My fingers grip the armrest, and I close my eyes until the flight resumes the smooth cruise. The stale recycled air prompts a headache to form. I should sleep the remaining hour until we touch down at Denver International, but I can’t smother my racing thoughts.
I wiggle my phone from my pocket and reread the text Caiti sent me late last night for the hundredth time.
Caiti: An aneurysm or a heart defect is their best guess until the autopsy comes back. I can’t sleep without picturing him next to me. What if he tried to wake me, and I didn’t hear him?
If the text is any indication, she’s haunted by her thoughts. We went back and forth late into the night as Rhett snoozed curled behind my back. I reassured her there was nothing she could have done, but I have a feeling my words failed to impact.
Exiting that thread, I scroll down one conversation to read the message I sent to Rhett this morning.
Me: I need space to process, and I need to be there for Caiti. I’m sorry I left without you, but it’s for the best. Please don’t call.
The succinct words drive my point home, or so I hope. He didn’t reach out before I boarded, so either he was still asleep or he honored my wishes. Either way, a bitter pill of guilt sours my gut. And even though only a few hours have passed, I miss him already.
God. The ghostly sensation of his strong arms around me twinges my sides. Regret whittles my heart like a carving knife. I’m torn between riding out my hasty decision or begging Rhett to hop on the next flight as soon as I regain cell service.
The ding of the seat belt sign signals our descent. A few silent prayers later, we safely touch down in Colorado. The desperation to find Caiti singes my manners and rushes me off the flight out of turn, grumbles of other customers chasing me down the aisle.
My carry-on dangles from wilted fingertips as I scan the masses. Her shiny black hair bobs behind an elderly gentleman’s shoulder, followed by the rest of her when the man moves in another direction. Complete control is lost at the sight of her. My feet carry me in a near sprint along her path.
We cling to one another with shaking limbs. Our reunion is bound to end up viral on social media. I find myself unable to care as I clutch my only remaining family member like a lifeline. Tears break free from the gates holding them back all morning, and I cry into her silken hair. Inadequate words of condolences and sorrow lodge in my vocal
cords. Incalculable time passes before a broad figure interrupts.
I lift tear-soaked cheeks and find myself staring at the face of my ex-fiancé, Tate.
Tall, broad, and muscular, he looks as good as he always has, though I immediately notice the absence of something deeper. His attractive features do nothing for me. A welcome thought mingled with the rest of the chaotic emotions.
“We should move this to the car,” he advises thickly.
A nod follows a hitched sob. Caiti loops her arm with mine, and with tears still streaking our cheeks, we walk out into the sunshine.
