Page 75 of The Keeper

I scrambled to my feet, reaching for the phone. The determined look in his eyes halted me.

“You misunderstand me. It’ll be in Victoria’s name. It’s this or nothing. Actually I can do that.”

No, no, no.

“Xavier,” I hissed. “Give me the phone.”

He wiped the tears from my face, his gaze softening briefly. “My reasoning is none of your business. Take the offer or I’ll get in touch with her father to initiate the transfer into her trust.”

Everything went blurry. Too many versions of reality collided.

“I’m sure he’d be more willing to accommodate his daughter than you.”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I ran down to Charlotte’s room. Her room was always our meeting place late at night. The safe haven. We’d lay on her fluffy rug wrapped in soft blankets and talk for hours. Dream about the future. Imagine our lives and careers and maybe families of our own.

I laid on my back, covered my face and sighed. Exhaustion consumed every muscle in my body. I longed to be in my own bed, surrounded by the familiar sounds of New York.

“Mind if I join you?”

I was too drained to be snarky. “Sure. Pull up some rug and have a lie down.”

Xavier stretched out on his side next to me, placing his hand on my stomach. Keeping my emotions in check was impossible, so I curled into him for comfort. The tenderness he showed overwhelmed me. Pulling me close, he held me tight. I snuggled into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I’m not going to ask you,” he said. “I just want you to know, you can tell me when you’re ready.”

I squeezed him, holding back a sob. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to unburden myself from this guilt. Unloading all of that on him wouldn’t be fair. I closed my eyes, nuzzling into his neck. He responded by combing his fingers through my hair.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked against his skin.

“I can’t explain it.”

“Try?”

He kissed the top of my head, letting his lips linger. “Grief isn’t easy. Everyone responds differently and I suspect your family is still dealing with…I don’t know what happened but it’s obvious nobody has fully dealt with it.”

I propped myself up on my elbow. “What happened to your mom?” I regretted the question the second I asked it.

Much to my surprise, he answered, “Complications from child birth. I was only about six hours old when she died.” He touched my cheek. “What happened to your sister?”

I pushed myself up, sitting cross-legged in front of him. He mimicked my movements, sitting the same way. I wanted to share and be open and let myself heal.

The fact that we’re sitting here in my sister’s room talking about this didn’t escape me. Neither did the affectionate glow in his eyes when I looked up at him. My God, he was so handsome.

Staring at him made me want to kiss him. Kissing him led to more. More provided me with the escape I so desperately craved.

I can’t keep taking from him like that.

“The anniversary of her death is this month. She…she, um, took her own life. Swallowed too many pills and…” I stopped, not willing to say more. “That’s why I’ve been such a lunatic about this house. I haven’t been here since the final summer we were all together. She died the following spring.”

He was quiet for a while, holding my hand and studying my expression. The heaviness in this house became suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, Victoria,” he said softly. “I don’t know…I wish I knew what to say.”

I half-smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. Listening is enough.” I laced my fingers through his. “Sorry about the whole being a lunatic thing.”

“A cute lunatic.” The gentle way he said it coupled with that damn crooked grin lifted my spirits.

“God,” I laughed.

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