Page 19 of Free

I close my eyes as those words hit home. I’m twenty-nine. I moved out ten years ago and have been happily living my life since. I never expected to have need of my childhood bedroom or hear the phrase ‘as long as it takes to get back on your feet.’

Mom sits beside me, her hand still wrapped protectively around mine. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, honey. Have faith that it will lead you to the best possible outcome.”

Nick raises his eyebrows at the crowd seated around us. “It doesn’t always work that way.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence while we try to decide how to tiptoe around his bitterness.

“If you don’t want to go back to Wildrose Landing,” Angela finally says in an overly bright voice, “you can stay with us as long as you need to.”

Garrett nods his approval and I smile my gratitude while weighing the two options. Home to Wildrose where I’ll probably run into Davis or stay here with my brother where I’ll definitely run into Nick?

Which would hurt more?

Ideas fly around the table, everyone stepping up to offer help or suggestions. I listen to them all, grateful to have a clan of support surrounding me. This is one of the worst days of my life and no one would judge me for feeling despondent. And my heart aches, that’s for sure, but I also feel more loved than ever.

“I should go home long enough to get my stuff out of Davis’s house,” I say. “After that, I just don’t know… there’s so much up in the air. Can I have some time to think?”

“The offer doesn’t expire,” Angela says while Garrett nods along. “It’s there for you whenever.”

I glance at Nick, an automatic reflex to see what he’s thinking, but his spot at the table is empty. Angela catches my eyes and shakes her head. “He left a couple minutes ago.”

Her voice is quiet and sad.

Leave it to Nick Hutton to vanish without explaining why.

TEN

Nick

I pace the length of Dr. Eddington’s office, the tightness in my chest spreading like a vice grip. Every nerve feels frayed, every muscle coiled. I can’t sit still. The leather couch looks comfortable, inviting even, but the thought of sinking into it feels like admitting defeat.

“I got an email from Kate again yesterday. Sergeant Harper’s wife.” My voice is sharp, louder than I intended. My arms cross instinctively as I glare out the window at the gray skies. The wind hurls palm fronds against the glass in heavy, rhythmic thuds. A storm coming. Feels appropriate.

Dr. Eddington, an older man with wisps of gray hair and steady eyes, sits back in his overstuffed leather chair. The patience etched into his features grates against my frayed nerves. “Did you read it?”

I nod, eyes shutting tightly. “She’s still asking to meet. Still wants to talk about the accident.”

“And you’re still opposed?”

“What do I have to say that she could possibly want to hear?” I ask, my reflection bouncing back at me in the window. I spin to face him, tension coursing through my arms.

“Maybe she’s looking for closure.”

“She should look somewhere else then. She’s not gonna find it with me.” My voice rises. “Sergeant Mark Harper was one hell of a guy. Funny. Kind. The kind of man who’d drop everything to help you. He loved his wife ferociously. I don’t know why I’m here and he’s not. There’s no reason for it. No rhyme. No logic. I take no comfort in the fact that he died and I’m still punching the clock.”

“Maybe hearing you say that is the closure she needs.”

I scoff, stalking to the other side of the room, fists clenching at my sides. The leather squeaks as Dr. Eddington scribbles something on his legal pad, his calm patience a funhouse mirror to my storm. “I don’t even think closure is real. Shit happens. It sucks. You buck up and move on.”

Dr. Eddington nods slightly, not pushing. The lack of resistance disarms me.

“How’s your physical pain?” he asks, his tone shifting to neutral ground.

“It’s fine.”

One bushy brow rises.

“My back hurts. PT is brutal. But I do the work. Doesn’t feel like it’ll ever get better than this. Hence, it’s fine.”

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