Doesn’t he understand that I want to make things work? Doesn’t he realize how hard it’s going to be to watch her pack her things and pull out of my driveway?
Doesn’t he know I’ll think of her every evening when I come home from work and miss the fuck out of her? Doesn’t he know that I’ll never be able to see a horse and carriage and not be reminded of the beautiful woman who gave me a piece of her life?
But that’s all I get. A piece of her life. Because if I ask for more, I’ll ruin her.
“Holton! Oliver! Let’s eat,” Mom calls from the dining room.
Oliver watches me, giving me one final chance to correct myself.
But I don’t.
“Coming,” I say, walking around him.
Blaire is standing next to the wall with her hands on the back of a chair. Two plates of food sit in front of her.
She turns to face me, and I stop in my tracks.
There’s a hurricane building in her blue eyes.
What’s this all about? Who said something to cause this?
“Take your seats, kids,” Dad orders.
I pull out Blaire’s chair, and she sits. I take mine beside her.
Before I can ask her what’s wrong, Dad has us bowing our heads to pray.
I take her hand beneath the table and give it a squeeze. I also add a little line to the prayer for God to help Blaire and me figure this out.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Blaire
Trees whip by the windows as Holt flies down the highway.
I sit, buckled in, and try to summon the shield I use in court when things get emotional. It’s never too far away, and I can always find it when I need it. Yancy says it’s probably an indicator that I’m emotionally detached, but I quite like the ability.
When it works.
It turns out, it’s easier to do when Holt isn’t involved.
He pilots the car onto an exit ramp and winds us through town. It’s a quiet ride, just like brunch.
The absence of communication between us probably wasn’t evident to anyone but us. The stories and laughter from the family made up for the silence between Holt and me.
The tires hit Cobblestone Way, and our speed slows. I remember coming down this street for the first time a few days ago. I was so confident that I could control this situation.
What was I thinking?
Now I’m going to pay the price, and it’s my own damn fault.
A lump settles in my throat as Holt’s words filter through my mind.
“She’s a human being who needs support and time and energy. She deserves that. And unfortunately for all of us, I don’t have that to spare.”
I didn’t mean to hear it. I was just going to tell him and Oliver to come to eat at their mother’s request. But his voice hit my ears before my feet could hit the doorway, and I backed away.
My lips part as I try to drag more oxygen into my lungs.
