Page 60 of Bleeding Hearts

I give my head a good shake and walk up to where the kids are all sitting. “We better get going or all the candy will be gone.”

Mollie springs up, seizes the boys’ hands, and tries to drag them to the SUV. “Bye Mommy. I’ll have Daddy bring me back in a few days. Love you.”

Kellie gently lays her hand on her mother’s name. “Love you. Miss you.”

“Come on, sissy.” Mollie hollers from halfway up the path. “Hurry up.”

The young preteen drops her hand and rushes up the path to join the others.

I pause for a moment, then walk over to the cold stone and put my hand on it. “You have a wonderful family. I wish I could help them, but I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.”

A cold chill travels up my arm as the wind swirls around me. It’s like I can feel this woman’s anger for misleading them and not being stronger.

With a sigh, I let my hand drop and lower my head, my vision blurring slightly. “I’m sorry.”

No one answers, of course, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel her spirit or hear her words echoing around me as I walk away. “They don’t need you to be sorry, they need you to be brave.”

Chapter 29

Nolan

NOVEMBER

Last night, when Bethany and the kids stopped by the station, I sensed something was amiss. She was distant and rebuffed my attempts to talk to her privately.

We’ve come so far, and I’m not letting her do this. Not to me or my kids.

By the time I get home, the house is empty. The girls are at school and Bethany’s at work.

The first thing that catches my eye when I step into my bedroom is the bed. It’s exactly how I left it yesterday morning. The clothes I’d thrown down are still there, a rumpled mess instead of the usual tidy pile. It’s obvious she didn’t sleep here.

I pick up my phone and send her a text.

ME:

Everything go okay last night?

Because I know she has two classes this morning, I don’t expect a reply right away. So, I turn on the shower, ready to wash away the craziness of my shift and put on regular clothes.I’m not tired. Last night was quiet after midnight, and I slept as much as my mind would allow.

Just as I’m stepping out of the stall, there’s a ding alerting me I have a text. I wipe my face, feeling the soft cotton against my skin, and then towel off, the damp towel heavy in my hands, before wrapping it around my waist.

BETHANY:

You home?

ME:

I am.

Her question strikes me as odd. Why is she asking me this?

With my pulse pounding in my ears, all I can hear is the whooshing sound while I wait, transfixed by the three dancing dots.

BETHANY:

Can I come over? I need to talk to you.

Fuck.

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