Being in his arms, him whispering in my ear, would make everything melt away.
But I couldn’t.
I wasn’t ready to see him.
Especially the way I knew we’d end up.
I’d always liked my body, but now, it was just a reminder of that day.
I let myself cry.
I shed tears over Morgan, mostly.
I missed him.
He made me feel safe. I knew he just wanted the best for me.
He hadn’t done anything to hurt me.
No.
That was all Natasha.
The wicked bitch would always be with me every time I looked down at my chest.
Natasha haunted my nightmares. I’d relived the night more times than I cared to remember. Each time, I’d wake up in tears with the sheets soaked.
That was when it was the hardest not to call him. I wanted him to hold me, to chase away the demons, and to save me like he had before.
Days turned into nights and hours turned into weeks as I sat on the couch staring at the television.
When I heard a car door close in my driveway, I shot up, trying to catch a glimpse of the person before they knocked.
Butterflies fluttered inside me until I realized it wasn’t him.
I’d seen a photo of her before. I opened the door, not waiting for her to knock.
“Hello,” I said, my voice a bit shaky.
“Hello, Race. I’m sorry to bother you, dear, but we need to talk.”
I glanced around the yard. “Is he here with you?”
She shook her head and frowned. “No. I’m sorry.”
Instantly, the excitement I’d felt died. “Would you like to come in, Mrs. DeLuca?” I asked, opening the door for her.
She looked down at her feet and back at me. “I can stay out here if it’s easier for you.”
“Please come in. I’d rather stay inside if that’s okay with you,” I said, backing away.
She closed the door, looking around my home. This gave me the opportunity to get a good look at the woman behind the man. She looked the same as her photo, maybe a few years older but just as beautiful.
She wore a pair of washed-out jeans with a black blouse and wedge heels. Her hair was much like his in color, with every hair in place and cut near her shoulders.
“You have a lovely home,” she said as she set her purse down on the coffee table.
“Thank you,” I said as I sat down. “Did Morgan send you?”
