I look up to see Chris standing there, wearing a T-shirt and sleep pants, barefoot. His hands are shoved in his pockets and he leans against the door frame.
“Hey.” My gaze fixes and focuses on a picture of her and Kev in Japan. I know from Kev it was taken on their honeymoon.
I also know from Kev that,at the time, his mind was on Chris.
There will always remain an incomplete triangle for Kev now, of his memories of and love for Lauren while he’d secretly held Chris in his heart.
He walks in and I make room for him on the couch. “You all right?” he asks.
“Why the hell can’t they figure out who did it?” I ask. “They haven’t caught the fucker who killed Charles and Tory. They can’t track thissonofabitch down. We can spy on people from fricking space, but these two fucks are still out and free. What thehell?”
He gathers me into his arms. “I know, sweetie.”
Chris was in law enforcement, so his reaction to the lack of resolution in Charles and Tory’s case will differ greatly from Kev’s to Lauren’s murder. Chris is pragmatic.
“I want to be there with him,” I say. “I want to hold him.”
He nuzzles my forehead. “Me, too.”
This has to be killing him. “How can you be so calm?”
“I don’t have a choice, sweetie.”
I sit there with him for another few minutes before he stands and holds his hand out to me. “Bed, girl.Now.”
Part of me wants to rebel, to refuse, to claim executive privilege in this moment, and sit here and grieve.
I can imagine Lauren shooing me out of her office,chastising me that I’m not accomplishing anything by sitting here and sulking.
I can also imagine Kev standing there in full-on Sir mode and telling me I need to get upstairs and get to sleep, because the PDB will happen early.
I take Chris’ hand and let him lead me upstairs.
