Page 113 of The Breaking Point

When I was awake and no longer dreaming, my mind still replayed that night over and over again in my mind.

Sometimes I’d be driving, and I’d see a tree that looked like the one Ben had hit. Panic would overwhelm me, and more than once, I’d had to pull over to get myself together to keep driving.

Why had I thought Ben wouldn’t drink and drive? I knew the signs. I’d drunk a beer with him, for God’s sake, which meant he’d probably been drinking all evening.

And I’d seen Ben drunk before. We’d been high school kids, experimenting with drugs and alcohol on occasion. I’d caught Ben stealing his parents’ booze, and he’d sworn me to silence before inviting me to whatever party he was attending that night.

All the hockey guys partied, me included. So seeing Ben drinking at the bonfire hadn’t been out of the ordinary. Although he wasn’t yet twenty-one, he’d somehow managed to get a fake ID that had miraculously worked when he’d go to buy booze.

It was a Friday evening, and I was home alone, trying to distract myself. I’d considered going out, but nothing appealed to me. Mac had texted me about doing something, but I’d declined.

I’d then considered going to the Scarlet Rope, but that only reminded me of Grace.

What are you doing right now, Grace?

Did she miss me? I missed her, that was for fucking sure. It was like a physical ache in my chest not being around her or talking to her.

With my previous relationships, I’d never really missed them. Sometimes I’d get bored and text them for a hookup, but once they’d left, it was like they didn’t exist.

But with Grace, she was present even when she wasn’t around. It was like she was haunting me.

“God, I’m getting so pathetic,” I muttered to myself after I’d turned off a show that I couldn’t get into.

I never would’ve thought a woman would bring me to my knees. I guess Mac had been right: I was in for it with Grace.

I went back and forth, but my resolve finally broke. I texted Grace, asking her to meet me at my place.

To my relief, she agreed. My heart beat with anticipation that I’d see her soon.

After she arrived, though, I knew something was seriously wrong when I saw her tearstained face. A wave of guilt slammed into me.

Had she been crying over me? That thought nearly sent me to my knees.

As she stepped inside, I went to hug her, but to my surprise, she just shook her head and even put up her hands to stop me.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice hoarse.

A chill went down my spine. I knew she’d be angry, but something was wrong.

“I’m sorry I’ve been radio silent,” I said. “Your dad talked to me and freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do. I had to think about it by myself. I shouldn’t have stopped talking to you.”

I knew I was rambling. Grace was just staring at her feet and biting her lip.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” I added, at a loss now. I desperately wanted to hold her, but I could tell she still had a wall up.

“Did you give Ben the keys to Mom’s car? When he was drunk?” Grace asked, her gaze direct and searing.

I couldn’t breathe. I felt a whooshing sound in my ears.

“Grace . . .” I whispered.

She just shook her head. “Don’t. Just tell me the truth, for once in your life. Please.”

“At least sit down first.”

Grace hesitated, but then she sighed and sat down. When I went to sit next to her, she shook her head. “Please. I need space,” she said.

I did as she asked. Then I said heavily, “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry I never told you.”

---