Page 81 of Surviving Slater
"Thanks for coming but I'm really okay," I said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and it reminded me of what Connor had revealed about his childhood.
"You're welcome. I'll be staying at a nearby motel in room twelve." He gave me the name of the place. I knew where it was. "If you need anything I'll be there."
"Thanks." What I needed from him he wasn't capable of giving me.
He left, and I watched him go.
"Is he a friend of yours?" my mom asked, walking up to stand beside me.
I didn't want to go into the details of what had happened between us so I just said, "Yes."
I slid my hands into the pockets of my jacket. Technically that's all that was left of what had transpired between us. We were just friends. Hell, I didn't even think we were really friends…more like acquaintances.
But an acquaintance wouldn't attend a funeral to make sure you were okay. I didn't want to analyze the motive or reasoning behind his actions. All that mattered was that I had to find a way to move on from him.
When we got back to the house I kept busy making sure everyone had something to drink or something to eat. It ensured there was no time to think of Slater in a motel literally down the road from where I lived and that it would be so easy to go and see him. I wanted to. But I knew it wasn't a good idea.
I had managed to avoid my aunt but when I found myself in the kitchen with her, there was no way to exit without being rude.
"How are you doing?" I asked her, taking in her small, sad frame. Her dark green eyes lifted to mine, the evidence she had been crying clear in her tear-streaked cheeks. Her usual creamy skin was paler than usual against her red hair that ended just below her ears.
I hugged her for a few minutes before she pulled away from me, wiping her tears.
"I have something for you," she said as she produced a pristine white envelope from her bag and handed it to me.
Confused, I looked at the name scribbled on the front.
Jordan.
"What is it?" I murmured.
"I found it in your uncle's will."
I didn't want anything from him but I couldn't refuse without it raising questions I didn't want to answer.
"Thanks," I said, clutching the envelope in my hand.
She smiled at me. "He loved you so much."
I gave her a tight smile and a slight nod as my stomach turned. I hurried out and managed to reach the bathroom just before throwing up the contents of my stomach.
I washed up and went to my bedroom with the envelope still clutched tightly in my hand. Once I entered my room, I put it down on my dressing table and looked at it with horror.
What could he possibly have to say to me? There wasn't anything he could say that could wipe clean my childhood that he had ruined.
I began to pace as I argued whether it would cause more damage to read it. I wanted to put this to rest and I wasn't sure I could do that without reading the letter.
My heart rate escalated and I felt like the blood was pounding in my ears. I sat down on my bed and rubbed my hands over my face, trying to keep a lid on the torrent of emotions pushing to break free.
Not here, not now. I had fought hard to keep the secret from the family who would be devastated by it. I had to get away before I spiraled out of control.
Feeling like a caged animal and needing to escape so I could feel free, I grabbed the letter and shoved it in my bag. I found my mother in the hallway talking to a neighbor.
"I'll be back later," I told her. She looked at me with concern.
"Okay," she said. "Don't stay out too late."
I weaved myself through the throng of cars parked in front of my house and breathed a deep breath in as I made my way down the familiar road.
