Page 68 of All In Good Time

“There’s got to be some way to get help without him knowing. It could really benefit you and Mal, and—”

“No.” His voice raised, not much, but enough to catch Becca off guard. “Drop it. It’s not happening.”

His expression grew hard, guarded in a way she wasn’t used to around her. He was never entirely open, but in times like this, in the dim lighting of her home, she saw bits and pieces he would never show in daylight.

Averting her gaze, she shifted on the bed. “Okay. I’m sorry, I’ll drop it.”

She felt him watch her. His eyes left a tingle on her skin she knew to be his stare. The tension in the room was thick enough to breathe. She needed to get out, give them both some space.

She stood from the bed and reached for the bowl.

Gently, Derek’s hand reached over and rested on hers on the bowl, pausing her escape.

“Promise me something.” His voice was low, not as harsh but still serious. “You can’tevertell anyone.”

Becca looked from his hand to him. The guarded expression was gone, and instead, she saw desperation. Her heart clenched at the sight. She couldn’t stand to see him like this. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” His grip on her hand squeezed, silently begging for an answer.

She smiled at him and nodded. In all she knew in that moment, she meant every word. “I promise.”

25

October 1985 | After

She thought she would never be at this home again.

Yet there she was, standing on the street, looking up at the house she’d run from a month ago. All the blinds were shut closed, and no cars were parked in the driveway.

She wouldn’t have gone through with this if there were—she couldn’t be anywhere near this house if Mark was home.

Releasing a shaky breath, Becca gripped the side of her jeans and walked up the steps and onto the front porch. This plan was a reach—even if someone opened the door, they would probably turn her away. It was wishful thinking, but she had to try—for him.

Her three knocks on the door were weak, but audible, and her wait was short before Jennifer opened the door to reveal her brown hair in disarray.

All the times that Becca had come before, Jennifer had been smiling—whether out of kindness or politeness. Today, she frowned. New lines had formed on her forehead that Becca hadn’t noticed before. But Jennifer didn’t look upset to see her there—she looked nervous. Her eyes shifted to where Mark’s car was normally parked and then over her shoulder down the hallway.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Jennifer’s voice was hushed.

She’d come this far, and she didn’t want to leave now. Not when she didn’t know how Derek was. She’d beg if she needed to. “I know. I know, but please I just need to see him. I’ll be quick.”

“Rebecca—”

“Please, Jennifer.” Becca stepped forward, feeling desperate now. “Five minutes and I’ll be gone.”

Jennifer looked over her shoulder again, conflict on her face. It didn’t take long for pity to win. Jennifer sighed and stepped out of the doorway to create an entrance for Becca. “Five minutes”

Becca didn’t push her luck, on the off chance she would miss her opening, and rushed into the house, making her way down the hallway to Derek’s room. She hesitated before the door, her hand hovering over the knob.

He wouldn’t want to see her. He’d tell her to leave. She knew that already.

She also knew that whatever she saw on the other side of his door would break her heart. But she couldn’t leave him on his own—not again.

The door creaked as she opened it.

His curtains were drawn, and lights were off, bathing the area in darkness, even at midday. A purple candle lay on its side on the ground.

Derek sat sideways on his bed with his back facing her. He didn’t turn to see who entered, but maybe he already knew.

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