Piper lied about Sonny’s age.
It’s wrong of me to storm into her bedroom in the middle of the night. But she felt the need to lie to me about her son’s age, and I need to know why.
I tear open her door and find the bed empty.
Why is my pulse shaking like this is an emergency?
“Hart?” I hiss as I make my way downstairs, searching the kitchen to see if she’s helping herself to a midnight snack. I snap on the light and make myself dizzy by swinging my head back and forth.
She can’t have gone far. Not with Sonny still in the house. His shoes are still lined up outside on the porch the same way they were yesterday. She wouldn’t take off and leave Sonny without shoes.
I look up and see her glaring at me through the window.
“What are you doing out on the porch at this hour?” I walk over to her.
“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs and gets back to staring into space.
There’s nothing much to do out here except sit and listen to crickets. After what almost happened earlier this morning, Piper is probably trying to catch as much fresh air as she can.
“Sonny is eight.” I decide to get straight to the point. “You told me he was seven.”
This makes her bolt upright. “Um…” She falters, turning to meet my gaze with an explanation she clearly doesn’t want to give me. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally answers, turning away from me.
I study her side profile and know that she’s keeping something from me.
“Why not?”
The next time she looks at me, her eyes are fiery. “It’s best to not speak about some things.”
“I don’t know if that’s?—”
“Remember when I asked you about why you started firefighting and you gave me the driest response?” She gives me a second to recollect. “Yeah. I accepted that you weren’t ready to talk about the true reason why, and moved on. Allow me to do the same here.” She keeps watching me sharply.
In that instance, some thingsarebetter left unsaid. I didn’t want to revisit my childhood and the guilt that motivated me all the way to the station. The same goes for Piper and her previous relationship, I suppose.
“Okay.” I rise from the chair and offer my hand. “But you can’t stay out here. Please. Get some rest.”
She looks up at me pointedly. “What areyoudoing awake?”
I shrug, unable to come up with a better response other than: “I couldn’t sleep either.”
This elephant in the room is even bigger than the first.
We both slept like babies whenever we were together. The fact that we can’t sleep says more than either one of us wants to admit.
“A few more minutes,” Piper says, turning back to face the yard. “I’ll be in soon. Promise.”
I drag myself upstairs and toss and turn even more than before. I slip between intervals of waking and sleeping, and rise with the sun when I feel its warmth through the window.
Piper is still at the back of my mind, even when I’m brushing my teeth. It doesn’t help that we share one bathroom. She couldn’thave placed her toothbrush any further away from mine if she tried.
A sudden knock jumps my mind back to the present. I spit, abandon the toothbrush, and head downstairs to see what someone could possibly want at seven thirty in the morning.
As soon as I open the door, everything makes sense.
“Mr. Taylor.” I couldn’t say that man’s name cheerily, not even if I tried. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
