I felt the same.
How had she spent the day? Was she as broken as she looked that morning? Had she seen anyone or had she spent Thanksgiving Day in pain and alone?
My head fell to the door and I stood there, shoulders heaving, chest pounding a rhythm of sorrow and regret. I wanted to tear my heart out of its cage and hand it to her, relish in the pain she’d most likely cause from stomping all over it before giving it back to me.
I deserved all of it, and I’d gladly take it if it would help Lilly feel better.
The elevator doors beeped and slid open, and I turned, pushing off her door. I might be losing my mind, but other residents in the building didn’t need to know, especially after the scene I caused this morning.
She stepped out first, one booted foot followed by another dressed in ripped and torn jeans and a sweatshirt three sizes too large for her, hiding all of her perfection.
Shit. I hadn’t meant to see her. Hadn’t actually meant to talk to her. I only wanted to leave the bag of food shoved into Tupperware and knock before I made my escape. Her head was bent to her phone, so she hadn’t yet seen me, but it was too late to leave.
“Lilly.” Her name clawed out of my throat, tripped over wire and sandpaper.
Her head whipped up and her feet stilled. She glanced at her door behind me, the bag at my feet I’d already settled there, before she did another startled scan of me and blinked.
“I thought I made myself clear this morning.”
“I’m sorry.”
She held her phone with a white-knuckled grip and readjusted her purse strap on her shoulders.
“Please move away from my door.”
I stepped to the side and shoved my hands in my pockets in fear if I didn’t I’d wrapped them around her and yank her to me, hug her until our hearts became one like they’d been less than twenty-four hours ago.
She dug into her purse and pulled out her key, not giving me a single glance. “Since I couldn’t get my old job back and can’t afford to take the time to wait for Ellen to find me a new one, in case you care, I won’t be quitting, but please let Brandon know I will not be in on Monday. I need more time.”
She unlocked her door, face pale without makeup, without any of her normal shine. Even her freckles had lost their luster.
I did that to her. We did that.
“Please don’t,” I said. Don’t leave me. Don’t walk away. It took more effort than I knew I was capable of not to shove open her door and follow her inside, cross the threshold of her home and demand she listened.
But her home was her safe haven, and I wouldn’t do that to her.
“You lied to me. You all did.”
“We did.”
“You deceived me intentionally.”
She turned inside her apartment and allowed me to see the torture etched to her features and her own agony. It silenced with me with a single breath.
“You manipulated me and hid things I needed to know and you expect me to waltz back into that office and act like nothing happened?”
Her tone was wooden. Not screaming at me like this morning.
I missed her fire. Now, she sounded like she didn’t care, and that was almost more terrifying than her fury.
“Dad and I will stay away. I swear it, Lilly, but don’t throw this away. Hate your boss. You deserve to and you have every right to hate the rest of us but don’t lose this opportunity. The job and us are not connected.”
Her hand gripped the door, painted fingernails now ripped and torn, and I imagined her chewing on them all day, hating me.
She inhaled a breath so large her shoulders rose to her ears before she expelled it. With only the slightest wobble in her voice, she met my gaze. “There is no us.”
The door closed quietly in my face and the locking mechanism from inside engaged before I blinked.
There is no us.
It rolled through me and forced me back a step.
I deserved it.
It didn’t make the pain any less, even though I knew this would be the result before I ever stepped foot into her diner, and she practically kicked me straight back out.
I saw the end of us coming before we began.
I only couldn’t have predicted it would hurt this much.
5
Lilly
“Did you know you could live without a heart?”
“Are we a vampire now?” my therapist asked.
“Nooo.” I rolled my eyes to Nancy’s ceiling before adjusting myself on her couch so I was almost lying down. I usually preferred to sit, but my bones hurt and exhaustion had worn me out.
After everything that happened yesterday, I took a risk her office would be open today and emailed late last night about an appointment. That was after one in the morning and I was awake at five. The few hours of sleep I managed to snag were fitful, with constant waking. I was so thankful Nancy had openings today otherwise, I would have driven myself crazy, pacing circles in my apartment with nowhere else to go, jumping at every sound in the hallway for fear it was Hudson.
He’d proven last night he had no problems coming to see me, even if he’d left… even if he’d been thoughtful enough to bring me dinner.
I’d thrown it out, too stuffed from dinner with Angie’s family and too pissed to take anything else from him.
I needed help figuring out what to do now, if I should take Judith’s advice and continue on at Valor. I meant what I said to Hudson. I couldn’t afford to wait for Ellen to find me something else, and nothing could give me the chances Valor did. But could I stay here? Could I be in their office all day, accepting more help from those who lied so easily to me and managed to keep it up for so long?
I’d wracked my brain all day yesterday. That photograph. How many more were there? How many times had David had to rush through his house, stashing pictures before I went over there? How deep did this deception run, and why? Why didn’t they tell me?
If I hadn’t discovered it by accident, when would they have told me?
So there I was, ignoring Nancy’s previous question of why I was there and asking me what happened, and spewing bullshit about vampires because I couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t feel anything, and hated that when I did fall asleep, I saw Hudson’s ravaged, beautiful face.
“I don’t know if outside of Josh, I knew what love was and even then his love was selfish—”
Thinking about Josh after all these years no longer wrecked me with sadness and grief. Those overwhelming emotions had burned out after a few years in prison when I grew used to missing him so much, when I needed someone to call and was constantly reminded that no one was there for me. Instead, to cope, I started thinking of all the ways he too had disappointed me. He’d loved me—and hurt me. Not like my dad. Not like my mom. But he’d hurt me even when he was there for me. I had needed someone healthy in my life.
And I’d never had it.
“He had an addiction, we talked about this.”
“I know.” Logically, I understood. It was the emotions I always tripped over. “But he had opportunities for help and he always chose that over me.”
“Did he? Or did he choose to escape his own hell while still doing his best for you?”
“You’re supposed to be listening,” I chided her and she lifted one hand in apology.