“What about your classes?” I ask, finally managing to sit up.
“Nothing important was happening today. Exams finished up last night, or else I would’ve been here to celebrate your birthday.”
I purse my lips, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’m on the dean’s list, Mom. I can afford to miss a day of classes.”
She doesn’t have to remind me. Ava is my pride and joy. Always has been. She’s a good girl. Studious, empathetic, and protective, like me. She’s also funny, passionate, and has a penchant for excitement, just like her father. Ava’s the best parts of us both.
“I wasn’t going to allow more time to go by without spending time with you for your birthday,” she says. “We’re going to celebrate.”
My hand lands on top of hers and I squeeze. “I’m not really up for celebrating. It was a long night.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you sick?”
“Maybe?”
One brow lifts in question. “Maybe?” she repeats. “What’s going on, Mom? Is this about your milestone birthday?”
I pull a pillow up to cover my face, groaning into it. “Can’t we just pretend I’m sick and stay in bed all day?”
The pillow is removed from my face and Ava frowns at me.“Nope. No more pity parties about turning forty. We’re going to get through this together.”
“It’s not a pity party,” I whine, but I don’t elaborate on what has me still in bed at noon.
When Ava finds out the events that led me to Nick’s in the middle of the night, she’ll harp on how I shouldn’t be alone and how she could transfer to the local public high school. I won’t allow that, because we both know she’d only be doing it for me. It’s a fight I don’t want to have.
She wraps her arms around me, and I squeeze back, thrilled that she’s here and that she’s not going to press the subject.
I’ve missed her so much, and today, I just want to enjoy my time with her. “I’m glad you’re here, kiddo.”
“Me too.”
“Now, let’s get you up and showered.” She pulls away, her nose scrunching in mock disgust. “And make plans.”
“Nothing too big. I’d like to just spend time with you. Maybe order food in and binge-watch some terrible TV?” My hands come together as if in prayer.
Ava smiles. “Sure. But tomorrow, we’re going to try venturing out.” She lifts her brows like this is some sort of treat for her, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ll be fast. Go get things ready downstairs,” I suggest.
“We are going to talk about whatever happened last night,” Ava calls over her shoulder as she retreats to the door.
I don’t say a word, content to put off that conversation for as long as possible.
What would I say anyway? A dead man visited me last night, and I involved the detective next door?
The reminder of that isn’t any less humiliating in the light of day.
One thing’s for certain. I will now avoid Nick West at all costs, for as long as humanly possible.
When Ava’s out of sight, I throw off the heavy duvet and swing my legs over the side. Lowering my feet onto the cold hardwood floor, I mentally note that I need to purchase a large rug for this very reason.
I pad toward the ensuite bathroom that we had redone at the same time we added the bonus room. Garrett thought we should spring for heated floors, but I’d objected, being the cost-conscious one in our partnership. Today, I regret not splurging as the cold seeps into me.
For the shower, however, I did take the upgrade. I didn’t want glass doors to keep clean, so we opted for a walk-in stone sanctuary with jets jutting out from every wall. I turn the knob to what I refer to ashot as hellfire, and as soon as it’s warm enough, I plunge myself into the spray, hoping that somehow it scrubs all of it away.
Taking my time, I wash off the remnants of last night and watch as it swirls down the drain. I allow the lavender soap to clear my head and calm my fragile nerves. It only lasts so long before my mind sifts through every moment from last night.
