Page 35 of What's Left of Us

Jesus.Conklin was going to be a dad again. He hadn’t said anything to me. When he’d found out about Cooper, I was the first person he told. Not even his parents or hers knew until they did a big reveal during the holidays.

Closing the door behind me, she looks at her son and says, “Look who’s here, Coop.”

My godson turns around, launching off the couch the second he sees me. “Uncle Hawk! Wanna play video games with me?”

I tussle the five-year-old’s hair. “I won’t be able to stay long, kid. Maybe another time. I just wanted to come check on you and your mother.”

“Mommy said you were gonna come by but that you were really busy,” he says, making me look over at Marissa. She shrugs, then nods toward the kitchen for me to follow her.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Why don’t you get back to your game while I go chat with your mom? I’ll make sure to see you before I leave.”

His disappointment fractures my heart, but he nods after glancing briefly at his mom. I follow Marrisa into the kitchen and accept the glass of water she offers me. “I’d give you a Corona, but I don’t keep them around anymore. Matt is the only one who liked them.”

I sit down at the table with her, clenching the cool glass in my palm. “Water is fine.”

She studies me, her dark eyes dancing along my face before moving to my left shoulder knowingly. “You guys used to say water was for pussies and drink beer with every meal when you got together.”

Chuckling, I stare at the drink. “The way we saw it, if girls could have mimosas in the morning, we could have beer.”

Marissa rolls her eyes. “Except mimosas barely have any alcohol.”

“Not when we made them,” I muse.

A small smile tugs on the corners of her mouth. Matt had gotten her tipsy a few times when he made her mimosas. “I’m glad you stopped by, Hawk. How are you doing?Really. None of those bullshit answers you give everybody else.”

She really wants to know? “I came here to make sure you were okay, not to talk about me.”

She’s quiet for a second before nodding, putting a hand on her stomach, and caressing it lovingly. “Things were rough at first. I didn’t know how I’d do things without Matt because he was such a staple in our lives. He may have gotten on my nerves sometimes, but he was the best husband and father. We made a good team.”

I nod in agreement. “You did.”

“But I remembered how much Cooper needed me,” she says, her voice lower as her eyes go to the other room. “And our little bean. To be honest, I wasn’t sure she’d survive. The stress was too much, and my doctor thought I might have miscarried after the funeral.”

“She?”

Marissa’s smile grows. “Yeah, it’s a girl. Matt always used to say he was terrified of being a girl dad, but I know he would have been a great one. She would have had him wrapped around her little finger from day one.”

I have no doubt in my mind that’s true. “My lieutenant said you stopped by to grab the rest of his stuff,” I note, taking a sip of water to quench my parched throat. “I thought about coming by sooner, but I had no idea what I could have said to you. Nothing would have changed what happened, no matter how badly I wish it could.”

Her eyes go to the table, staring absently for a minute. Then she closes them, takes a deep breath, and lifts her gaze. “I was mad at first.Somad. But not at you. At…life. The world. I didn’t know how it was fair that I lost the love of my life and had to go on raising two children like I was strong. Because I wasn’t. There are still hard days, and it’s been almost six months. If I didn’t have my friends and family here, I don’t know what I would have done.”

Throat bobbing as guilt creeps up it, I set the glass on the table and sit up. “Marissa—”

“I know you.” She cuts me off, her tone firm but soft at the same time. “I know you’ve never handled your feelings well. You tended to shut down and close yourself off to the world like your emotions were a burden. That’s why I kept reaching out, even though I knew you wouldn’t let anybody help you. I lost my soulmate, sure. But you witnessed it. You lost your best friend. Your colleague. And you were hurt trying to get him out of there. We both lost somebody that day and maybe even lost pieces of ourselves along the way. But I’ll always be grateful to you for at least trying to save him.”

Wetting my lips, I shake my head. “I didn’t, though.”

Marissa reaches out and pats my hand. “No,” she murmurs. “But you tried. You could have died too, but it didn’t stop you.”

“It should have been—”

“Don’t,” she stops me, eyes getting glassy. “I don’t want you to do that to yourself. Your life is no less important than his was. Do you hear me?”

How can she say that? “We both know that he had a lot more to live for than I did. That’s all I mean by it. Whether you want me to say it or not, I would have changed places with him in a heartbeat if I could. I should have never asked him to go there with me. It’s…”

It’s my fault.

That’s what I don’t say.

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