Page 99 of Let’s Be Real

Shaking his head, he half laughed. “You really are something else. Thanking me when I’ve done nothing but lean on you for weeks.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to do. That’s why I’m here.” I pushed his hair from his face, my eyes darting between his. “I promised her I’d call Rebecca.”

His eyes slid closed. “God, Rebecca. I didn’t even think—” He opened his eyes and took my face in his hands. “You don’t have to do that. Rome or I—”

“I promised, Nate.” I kissed his palm then rubbed my cheek against it. “I can’t do much, but I can do this.”

He relented with a sigh of relief and fell heavily into my arms again. And it wasn’t so hard to hold him up, not when he buried his face in my neck and whispered his gratitude for my presence. I’d never felt more wanted.

As difficult and exhausting as these last few weeks had been, there was no place I would have chosen to be but here.

With him.

Chapter Thirty-four

Nate

Our mother hadn’t wanted any fanfare after her death. She’d chosen her final resting place—a plot in a park-like cemetery outside the city. She hadn’t wanted a viewing or anything religious.

So we hosted an open house in a private room at a restaurant. Louise had a lot of friends in Denver. A surprising number wandered in and out, looking at the pictures she’d requested we set up, offering their condolences.

Ben was surly in the corner of the room, not bothering to hide the fact he didn’t want anything to do with this. Adrian was stone-faced half the time, and the other half he spent rolling his eyes at the artfully teary women downing complimentary glasses of wine and droning on and on about what a lovely woman Louise had been.

She might’ve been lovely to them. I believed it, actually. I’d spent the last couple months with her and had finally gotten to see that side of her.

I just wished she’d shown it a long time ago.

But it was too late for that. Adrian and Ben had let go of our mom years and years ago. To them, today was about standing on ceremony and being here for Roman and me. I didn’t think her passing meant much to them.

I wasn’t sure what it meant to me, but there was a pit in my gut that I couldn’t seem to shake. This probably hadn’t been the most optimal time to taper down my medication in order to switch to a new one, but I thought it would have been worse to be here and feel absolutely nothing.

Besides, after losing my mother, this impending dread might’ve been normal. It’d been so long since I could name my emotions, much less figure out what other people were feeling; I couldn’t find it in myself to try to chase the dread away.

Samantha strode across the room, a glass of wine in one hand, a beer in the other. When she reached me, she passed me the beer and pressed a kiss to my lips.

“How are you?” She leaned against my chest. Now she could chase the dread away, and did so without thought. As long as she was near, it was a quiet echo in the background.

“Exhausted.” I slipped my hand beneath her hair, grasping the back of her elegant neck. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

“Me too. I think Adrian and Ben agree.” She glanced over her shoulder at Roman at the center of a small crowd. “Thank god for Roman. His social battery doubles all ours combined.”

I clinked my bottle against her glass. “Even if it didn’t, he’d force it so we didn’t have to. He’s always been that way.”

She slid her fingers along my tie then straightened it with the press of her hand. “I don’t think Rebecca’s coming.”

“No.” I caught her hand, bringing it to my lips. “I suspect you’re right.”

“It’s a long trip.”

“Mmmhmm.”

It was a long trip, but that wasn’t all of it. Rebecca hadn’t been sad or mournful when Samantha had called her. She’d been pissed off. Absolutely seething. I’d taken the phone from Samantha to speak with her, and she hadn’t spared me her anger.

My mother hadn’t left her on the good terms she’d wanted me to believe. She’d snuck away with only a note, leaving Rebecca to take care of their house and dogs on her own, taking the choice completely out of her hands.

It’d been difficult to listen to, but since she couldn’t give it to my mom, I’d let her lay it all on me. After all, I knew exactly what it felt like to be left in the dust by Louise Wells.

“I hope she’ll be okay,” Samantha said.