I don't know if I can forgive her.
I know I can't forgive him.
The framework my life and my world are built on comes apart beneath me, leaving me in a free fall. Every truth is a lie. Every memory is tainted, stained with the secrets they held.
I don't know how it happened, but I'm crying into Grey's chest when I finally calm down enough to find my way back into my body and mind.
"I'm sorry," I say as I pull away, wiping my face with my hands. Grey hands me a tissue, which helps. "I'm sorry," I say again, though I don't know what for. All of it.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Danny says. "Come here, baby."
I turn to him, put my hand in his outstretched palm. Gently, he pulls me to sit by him again. And when he tries to sit up and hug me, I don't let him.
I curl into his chest and cry.
I remember the scent of him, cologne and tobacco.
I remember jumping over sidewalk cracks with his hand around mine.
I remember the sound of his laughter, the scratch of his beard when he kissed my cheek.
His chest jerks with sobs of his own.
"Missed you lots, tater tots," he manages to say, smoothing my hair.
The words come without thinking-- his line, not mine. But it feels right.
"Love you tons, honey buns," I answer.
And fall apart again.
CHAPTER 60
THE FINAL NAIL
GREY
It's been the longest thirty-six hours of my life.
I almost lost her.
I had missed her, longed for her, but it was nothing compared to that. The conversation I had with her parents feels like a footnote after Carlin.
What he did.
What I saw.
What she endured.
What I've done.
I didn't hesitate to hit Carlin, and if he'd stayed conscious, I wouldn't have held back. I hoped when I threw the punch that it would knock him out. I don't know if I would have stopped if he'd fought back.
Then there's her father. She's gone back and forth since we got home on whether or not to call her parents and confront them until now. We're sitting on my couch, thigh to thigh. She's staring at her phone, gearing up to call them.
I want to take her pain from her. Wrap her up. Keep her safe forever. But she doesn't need me. She's strong enough to weather anything, capable of taking care of herself. I trace the line of her profile, her dark eyes and long lashes, her button nose, her full lips downturned.
She doesn't need me.
