I gave up on him when he needed me the most.
Now he is gone.
And it’s all my fault.
The next few hours slide by in a haze, a block of time that I will never forget; yet, I can’t remember a single detail aside from the flowers. They are all I see every time I think of Dean and it’s almost comforting to me because they seem to shield me from the other gruesome images haunting my mind.
Time passes in a haze.
I accept hugs, offers of condolences, but nothing can ease the pain I feel inside.
Caroline finally fell asleep hours ago, snuggled up with the ragged lion Dean bought her at the zoo a couple years back. I wanted to lie down with her. I haven’t slept at all the last few days, but I am afraid I won’t have the strength to get back up.
Everyone has cleared out, my parents reluctantly left a few hours ago. Rachel offered to stay but I insisted I was fine.
Now, I am not so sure.
I lean my head against the cool fridge, trying to fight off the deep ache in my heart. A hand lands on my shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze.
“Syl.” I turn around, wrapping my arms around my middle, but it does nothing to ease the excruciating pain.
Linc reaches out for me but I turn away, leaving his hand hanging midair. Hurt flashes across his face, adding even more guilt to the ever-growing pile of emotions. I don’t want his comfort even though I desperately need it.
And I sure as hell don’t deserve it.
I shift my eyes to the floor, evading his gaze.
With a long sigh, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “Talk to me.”
I remain silent.
What is there to say? I can’t very well tell him what really happened. I told everyone that I came home and found Dean that way. I couldn’t lay the burden of truth on him. It’s not his fault.
It’s mine.
I drove him to it.
He lets go of a wounded sigh. “Please.”
I sidestep him and head for the sink while my heart cracks open a little more. They say God never gives you more than you can handle, but right now, I think God is out to punish me. Probably because I love a man while married to another. Or maybe because right now I want nothing more than to fall into Linc’s arms and forget about Dean altogether.
What kind of person does that make me?
“Sylvie, look at me.”
“You need to leave, Linc.”
“Syl.”
Clutching the edge of the sink, I fight back the tears. “Please.”
“I’m not leaving you again. Not ever.” He rests his hands on my shoulders, and I sag with despair. “Let me help you.”
“You can’t help me, no one can.”
“Let me try. I know you’re hurting. Let me be here for you.”
I shove at his chest. “I said no! I don’t want you here.”
