Page 8 of Life

She sits down next to me and places a hand on my back. With soothing strokes, she rubs my back up and down and then massages my neck. I groan and let my head fall forward. “I know this hurts. And it’s not fair. Tommy was a great guy. The best. He saved my life, and I’ll be indebted to his family forever. But he loved you. Cared about you.”

I choke down the emotions and vomit pushing their way to the surface. “I never told him.” The tears I’ve been keeping to myself march down my cheeks like tiny traitorous soldiers, fleeing the base under the shitstorm that’s coming. My shoulders heave, and a sour taste hits my tongue. I’m going to be sick.

Jumping up, I rush to the bathroom and spew the entire contents of my stomach in giant heaves until there’s nothing left. Gigi holds my hair back and pets me as I regurgitate my feelings, grief, and what feels like a gallon of margaritas.

When there’s nothing left, I push back and lean against the edge of the toilet. Gillian hands me tissues so I can blow my nose. “I never told him, Gigi.” I admit the one thing that’s been needling me since it happened.

“You never told him what?” She crouches down and wipes my face with a cool washcloth.

I lick my lips and close my eyes. “I never told him that I loved him.”

Her face crumbles, but she doesn’t let it go. It’s her turn to be strong for me. That’s the way it works with us. Gigi is the only person I can show weakness because I’ve seen and helped her through her worst, as she has mine.

“Baby girl, he knew. Of course he knew.” She pulls me into her arms. I sink my head against her neck and soak up the vanilla-cherry scent. Home. This is my home. My soul sister. Gigi pets my hair and whispers over and over again, “He knew. He knew. I promise he did.”

But I know different. Tommy asked me point-blank if I loved him the day he died, and I played it off as him being silly like I always did. I remember that moment so clearly.

IfoundTommy suiting up for work when I entered his apartment.

“Maria, I gotta go. Sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay, Papi. I’ll be waiting when you return. How’s that?”

The muscles in his face tightened as he sighed. “I’ve got a dangerous one tonight.” He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, urging me close. “Just want you to know I love you in case it all goes to shit.”

I hugged him tight, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I kissed his neck up to his lips. “You’re going to be fine.”

He shook his head. “I want to know that you love me before I go out there. Tell me.”

My stomach dropped, and a sense of dread crackled at the edges of my skin. I shook my head. “No, I won’t say it. Because you’re coming home. To me. You’re coming home to me.”

“Maria…I—” I stopped him with a finger to his lips. Then I kissed him again, distracting his negative thoughts.

“Come home to me,” I demanded.

He smiled softly, kissed me with everything he had before pulling away. Then he opened the door and glanced back. “You’ll be here when I get home?”

I blew him a kiss. “All night long. Keeping your bed warm.”

“That’s how I like it. Love you,” he said as he closed the door.

Love you. That was the last thing he’d said to me. And he never came home. I’d received the call from Chase to come to the penthouse in the middle of the night. Gillian was a mess of tears and bruises when I’d arrived. So much so she couldn’t even tell me what had happened, but she’d held my hands while Chase reiterated the scene at Coit Tower, the night Daniel McBride took his last victim… My boyfriend, Thomas Redding.

Chapter Three

My apartment issilent when I arrive. No one is there to greet me. I walk over to my voice mail. Not a single message. Only Tommy ever left messages. I click on the message button, knowing what the last message is I’ll hear, but needing it anyway.

“Hey gorgeous, sorry I missed you. Heading over to the pub after the game. It will be a late night, but text me if you want me to come over and give that sexy body a snuggle.” He laughs, and the sound shreds my heart. “Love you.”

Again, it’s the last thing he said to me. And I never returned it. Even that night, I let him have his evening and didn’t ask him to come over. We hadn’t slept together for a month prior to his death. A full month and a half since I’ve felt his love. I’d rehearsed at the theatre every night, needing to make up for the missed time I’d been out due to Danny kidnapping my best friend. Then, of course, the fire happened, and a week later, he was gone. It feels like ages since I felt another man’s touch.

I blow out a long breath of air as I enter the kitchen to pour a huge glass of water. This body needs some serious liquids to battle the dehydration of a night of drinking, crying, and, half an hour ago, vomiting.

I wish I’d had him come over that night. After everything I’ve been through, it’s hard now to remember his touch. In the bedroom, Tommy wasmuy caliente,but he couldn’t keep up with my libido. I chuckle when I think back to how he tried. Oh, how he tried. Still, I didn’t care, because when he was making love to me, he meant it, and it was always satisfying. God, I miss him.

Leaning against the counter, I work on the yoga breathing Bree taught us. In for five seconds through the nose, out for five seconds through the mouth. Let it go.Let it all go, Maria. You can either sit and mope or do something, anything.

My best bet is a shower. Wash off yesterday and start over. Literally. I need to start over.

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