I don’t wake until early evening. My entire body aches like I’ve just finished running a marathon. I force myself to sit up and I crawl out of bed. My legs feel like lead balloons as I walk to my bathroom. I freshen up, change into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank, and then head out toward the sounds of chattering voices. I step into the living room to see my family all eating in front of the television.
My chest clenches.
I feel so outcast, so different, so horribly alone.
“Hey, baby,” Dad says, putting his food aside and standing. “We weren’t sure if you were going to be up in time for dinner. There’s some in the fridge for you to heat up if you’re hungry.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
He reaches out and cups my cheek. “You okay?”
I shrug.
“Come and sit down, watch television with us.”
Riveting.
I walk over and drop down into the empty space beside him.
Gretchen is next to me, and instead of making her usual smart-ass remark, she hands me a can of soda. “Your favorite. I can’t drink it all.”
I stare at it, then up at her, and I can see she’s making an effort. She never makes an effort, so I take it and whisper, “Thanks.”
“I love the color of your hair!” Stacy says, making conversation.
“Ah, thanks.”
“Did you dye it recently?” Mom pipes up.
I know what they’re doing and I appreciate it, I really do, but it’s not necessary. “You don’t have to do this,” I say to them. “I’m okay. It’s fine.”
“It’s nice to have you here,” Mom says gently.
I smile. “It’s nice to be here.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some food? It’s your favorite.”
I glance at Gretchen’s plate and see it is, in fact, my favorite. Chicken and mushroom carbonara. My mom might be a beauty queen at heart, but she can cook. My stomach twists and I figure I should eat something. I push off the couch and force a happy smile. “I think I’ll go heat mine up.”
Mom beams and that alone makes the effort worth it. I pad into the kitchen and open the fridge. I pull out the carbonara and use a fork to put some into a bowl. Then I put it into the microwave and lean my hip against the counter while it’s cooking. When it’s done, I rejoin the family on the couch. They’re watching some mindless fashion show, so I zone out and just eat.
When a break comes on, I hear a news report and my entire body stiffens. “The search for suspected murderer Raide Knox has come to a close today, with the police making a final arrest. It was speculated that Raide was with a woman when he was arrested. They’ve been looking for him for quite some time now, after he skipped bail. It is said he is the suspect in the case surrounding the death of his sister, Kelly Knox. We’ll have more information later in the evening.”
My heart lurches, and suddenly the food in my stomach feels like it’s going to rise up my throat and pour out. I put my bowl down and stand quickly, struggling for air as pain radiates through my heart. “Sweetheart,” Dad says, but his voice is no more than a blur in my mind.
“It’s fine,” I croak, turning and rushing down the hall and back to my room.
When I get in, I collapse onto my bed and take a few calming breaths. They know nothing, and yet his name is all over the news. I swallow down the bile that’s threatening to rise in my throat as I struggle to calm my emotions. I’m still curled into a tight ball when a soft knock comes at my door. I don’t answer. I don’t want to move.
“Grace, honey, you have a visitor.”
I don’t want a visitor. My door creaks open but I don’t look up.
“Grace?” Vance.
I clench my eyes shut and will it all to just go the hell away. “Shit.”
The door closes but Vance is still in the room, I can hear his footsteps closing the distance between us. Then I feel the bed dip as he sits on it. I don’t open my eyes.
“Honey open your eyes.”
I don’t.
“Gracie…”
I open my eyes and the minute I see him, my bottom lip quivers. “If you’re here to brag,” I croak, “don’t bother.”
He narrows his eyes. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
That was a shitty thing to say, I know.
My lip keeps trembling and he sighs, kicking off his shoes and lying down beside me. He pulls me into his arms and I can’t hold back any longer. I lose it. Tears stream over and run down my cheeks and my entire body begins to tremble as racking sobs rip from my throat. Vance holds me, saying not a word. He doesn’t need to.
I cry for so hard and for so long, my body literally flops in exhaustion. Vance hasn’t moved during my outburst, he’s just held on to me and kept me close to his body. When my sobs subside, he shifts and looks down at me. “You doin’ okay?”
“I think so,” I rasp.
“I’m so sorry, Grace.”
I shake my head, but he continues.
“I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have treated you that way because of my own jealousy. I was a bad friend when you needed me to be a good one.”
“You’re here now,” I whisper into his chest. “That’s all that matters.”
“And I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”
I nod.
“Sleep, honey. You’re exhausted.”
“You won’t leave?” I croak.
“No,” he says softly. “I won’t leave.”
Thank God.