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It was true, but I wanted them. Wanted to live inside her head because it was better than mine.
“Nobody is worthy of them.”
“Yet you get my thoughts and my virginity.” She looked away like she hadn’t meant to say that.
I hadn’t deserved that gift either and got no satisfaction she regretted giving it to me. How could she not after what I’d said?
I’d lied to her for her own good. And as much as I wanted to set her straight, I couldn’t. She wouldn’t believe me anyway.
She’s still giving me her body.
I couldn’t touch her while she was hurt. Not until she healed. It was her thoughts I craved most. She didn’t need to know that either.
The song ended and she pressed rewind. In some ways it was painful because it was so familiar.
“I didn’t take anything you didn’t willingly give,” I muttered.
“My fault again.” She clutched that necklace like a lifeline.
“Do you remember her at all?” I flicked my chin toward the gold chain.
She never took it off.
“No.” She dropped her chin to her chest. “Lincoln said Mom always wore it. Even when she died.”
My chest tightened. Her mother had been brutally murdered, and Beau had never gotten the chance to know her. That necklace was a connection, a piece of her mom Beau refused to be without.
It had glinted in the moonlight the first time I’d seen her naked.
How could a necklace have so much history on such polar opposite ends of the spectrum? One of the best moments of my life and the worst of her mother’s.
“How did you end up with it?”
She’d been too young to wear it immediately after her mom’s passing. In some ways I was surprised her mother hadn’t been buried with it. My father always wore a cross that had been my grandfather’s. We’d put him in the ground with it on. Somehow it hadn’t seemed right to separate him from the necklace.
“I found it in her jewelry box when I was five.” She fisted the gold. “It’s so strange. He never moved any of her things. Almost like he thought she was coming back.”
“Ma keeps Dad’s pocket watch on the dresser. It's been six years.” That probably wasn’t helpful, but it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for people to keep mementos of the people they loved close by.
These tapes were all I had left of Beau, and I refused to box them up or throw them away.
“But I meannothing. Her clothes are still in their closet. Her brushes are on the bathroom counter. It’s all frozen in time. This happened thirty-four years ago. I saw all of it last night, and it looks just like it did when I was a kid.”
I’d give her that it was weird. But if Beau and I had lived together and—I couldn’t finish the thought. I wouldn’t be able to touch her things. It would be like accepting she was gone. Or throwing away her life. People did it all the time. Ma had with some of Dad’s stuff. But I wouldn’t be able to toss it.
Maybe I was a little off like her father.
“It doesn’t make sense. If someone felt so strongly about their wife that they couldn’t pack up their clothes, wouldn’t you think they’d look for her murderer until they found them?” she asked before I could say anything.
“I would think so,” I said carefully. “Maybe it was too hard on him.”
If I were in his position, I wouldn’t quit until I drew my last breath.
“It’s almost like the whole thing didn’t happen. I’ve researched and there are so few news articles, it’s bizarre. Her family is old New York money. There is a ton of information about her charitable work. The story should’ve been more interesting than an occasional mention the day after it happened.” She shifted, pulling one knee to her chest.
“Back then wasn’t like now—”
“I know technology has come a long way,” she snapped.
