“I think when he died, the only part of my heart that wasn’t meant purely for beating blood in my body died. And I got so used to living without that when I saw glimpses of it reviving around Hudson, it scared me. I don’t know what to do now without that beat.”
I rubbed my chest. God, it hurt. It hurt so damn much.
I turned to Nancy. She sat on her chair, not dressed in her usual jeans but today she wore black leggings. From her toes, dangled a cougar print high-heel shoe. It swayed back and forth like a pendulum as she slowly swung her leg.
“You can live without a heart.” I was certain of it. “My dad has never had one.”
Nancy didn’t say anything, although that irritating scratch of pen to paper went wild.
“Why are you really here today?” she asked with her standard, curious tone.
“Because I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t know what to do with… Hudson?”
“No. My job. My life. My apartment.”
“And this has nothing to do with Hudson.”
Was she asking a question or making a statement? Sometimes with Nancy, it was hard to tell.
“We’re over.” Pain dug into my palms and I flexed the fists I’d made without realizing it. Tiny crescent-shaped moons appeared on my palms. We had to be over. He’d never once trusted me with the truth of why or how David and he became so connected in my life.
He’d had multiple chances.
So, yeah… whatever I thought we had, was over.
“Hmm.”
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
“Nancy,” I warned her. Her hums got under my skin. An itch like ants crawling beneath my clothes and in places I couldn’t reach to scratch.
She uncrossed her legs and shifted, tucking one of her feet under her. With a slap, she closed her book and tossed it into the coffee table between us.
Now was my chance to grab it and inspect all the notes she’d written about me. Especially today.
Daddy issues. Trust issues. Shows no growth in either and seems to want to wallow in her misfortune.
Enough with the pity party. I ran a hand across my forehead and rubbed my temples.
“Let me ask something else,” she said, and she’d propped her chin into her fist, elbow on the armrest of her chair. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a proper and classy bun at the nape of her neck, but it was side-swept, still making her seem soft and approachable.
At least, I’d thought that of her before now when she took this posture like we were suddenly best friends and shared a million secrets.
“Tell me why you like Hudson so much.”
Like was not what I felt when I thought of Hudson. Like drastically under-explained the way my body responded to his presence. From those stupid little flutters in my belly to the goose bumps on my arms and the way I shivered at his nearness… his whispers dancing across my neck.
“That’s not a question.”
One, thin blonde brow arched in response.
Why did I like him? Why had I thought I was falling in love with him? It had nothing to do with his body or the way he touched me. Those were the icing on the cake.
“He made me feel normal.” It was more than that, despite the fact Hudson rarely, only once or twice, looked at me like he pitied me or felt sorry for me. As soon as I told him to stop that night we got cupcakes, I hadn’t seen that look from him. He treated me like I was any other girl, one he might have met at college and swept off her feet at a party or something. Never did he treat me like I was some ex-con who didn’t deserve happiness.
“He made me feel safe and protected, but mostly, he’s made me feel normal.” Normal when I was anything but. Like I didn’t have demons that still scared me awake at night. Memories of Josh, or my dad, or of prison cells and inmates and guards who treated you like trash.
Nancy made a tsking sound. She’d corrected me too much for me not to know why.
She despised when I used words like normal or crazy. Be more specific.
“Normal, as in someone who isn’t considered a felon, Nancy.” I rolled my eyes again. Truly, she was being difficult today.
“And do you think Hudson is normal?”
He was anything but. He was a superhero dressed in a suit or golf shirts and jeans. He was the hero every woman would have swooned over in romance novels.
I neither liked the direction of this conversation nor the way my body warmed simply by thinking of him. I was pissed at him. I had every right to be. So why was she making me think of his good qualities?
I glared at her from the side of my eyes. “What are you getting at?”
“Can’t normal people make mistakes? Tell lies? Screw up?”
Something ugly and dark bubbled beneath my skin, making it feel like it was beginning to boil. “I never said he was perfect.”
“Then why are you expecting him to be?”
I groaned, loudly. Frustrated, I pushed myself up to sitting and massaged my temples. “He didn’t tell a single little lie. He crafted a manipulation, long before he ever met me. There was a long-standing storyboard they fell back on, hiding everything, perfectly avoiding any mention of Melissa and how we met. They made it sound like David saw me at Judith’s and saw a girl who needed help and that’s not at all how this happened. For months. Possibly years. That is more than some mistake or lie.”
She tapped her fingernail, painted hot pink, to her chin. “And why did they do that?”
“What?” My head jerked. Perhaps I’d been expecting an explanation from her. Some miracle answer that would help me understand it all.
Instead, more questions. I should have known. Nancy was full of them.
She dropped her hand from her chin. Leaning forward, she clasped her hands together and tilted her head. “Why did they do that?”
My lip curled on reflex. It was the million-dollar question. One I had no answer to because I’d run out of Hudson’s apartment without giving him the opportunity to answer. Could he blame me? Could Nancy?
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t know.” She reached forward and picked up her notepad and pen. She clicked it three times and settled back into the curve of her chair. “Does it?”
6
Lilly
Fridays used to mean a morning of sleeping in after a late-night shift at Judith’s, an afternoon spent studying and trudging laundry to a nearby laundromat and then more sleep and frozen dinners before another late-night shift.
Now, they meant putting in a full day of work and up until this Friday, meant dinners with Hudson and a movie. Usually, watching television or Netflix with him at his place or mine, and curling up together, learning about each other.
Tonight, it meant silence. There were shows I wanted to watch and no desire to turn on my television. Books I had requested from the library with no inclination to pick them up and begin reading.
Why did they do it?
Nancy’s question wouldn’t stop racing through my mind, and I glared at my ceiling. A few floors away sat my answers to questions I hadn’t bothered asking.
Perhaps because I didn’t want to learn their answers.
“No, that’s not true. You’re terrified of them.” I shook my head and pushed off my chair. I was dressed to go for a walk even though it was dark and had snowed earlier. The sidewalks were slippery with salt and sand and probably turning to ice but sitting alone in my apartment would drive me insane. Or send me running to the top floor where I could pound on Hudson’s door before pounding my fists to his chest until he ached like I did.