Page 125 of Return to Us
“I know, love. God, I’m . . . listen, if you’re on the couch, the door will be to the left. Can you feel along the side of the other couch?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, keep under the blanket, but crawl and feel the way around. You know this house, Jess. Hold your breath. Try not to breathe unless you absolutely have to.”
I do as he says, staying as low as I can, praying that I can get to the door. I feel my way across the living room, hugging the couch. I’m so dizzy. Everything around me is hazy, and my eyes just want to close.
I hear him talking, and my lungs are screaming for air. It’s so hard to move, and I’m fighting for strength.
“Gray,” I say his name, but it’s quiet. “Hurts.”
“Keep going, Jess, get to the door.”
I want to cry, but I know if I let myself, I’ll stop moving. I have to get air. I need to breathe, and then I think about the baby. God, the baby.
I need to save us both.
I push with my legs, going as far as I can while holding my breath. I can do this. I have to.
Something crashes to the ground to my right a second before glass shatters somewhere. “Jess!” He is yelling, but I can’t breathe, the smoke is getting lower.
I swear, I can see the door, it’s right there. I push again, but it feels as though someone is holding my feet, not allowing me any forward progress and pulling me backward.
“Jessica! Please, baby! Talk to me!”
I suck in a huge breath, but it doesn’t relieve the ache. Using the last bit of energy I have, I claw my way closer, and then realize it’s not the door, it’s the hallway.
I was going the wrong way.
Chapter 32
Grayson
Idrive. I drive, and I don’t know how many miles pass, but I drive.
My mind races, and my heart won’t stop pounding.
I’m so far from her.
Too far.
I should’ve been there with her. No, fuck that, I should’ve had her in my arms at home.
I was so stupid. So selfish and—angry. When she walked out, my heart broke not because it was her who did it this time but because it was me. I stood there, wanting to run after her but not sure what to say.
All I kept thinking was: she will leave me.
Now, God, now, she really might, and it’s all my fault.
My phone rings, Stella’s name on the screen.
“Grayson? Grayson! I just got a call from Dad.” I can hear my sister crying. “Jessica. Please tell me you heard from her.”
I clench my jaw as fear and anger rise again. “I’m on my way to her.”
“She came here. She came here, and she was so upset. She said she needed the keys and what you . . . please tell me you heard from her!”
The sheer panic in Stella’s voice makes the tears I’ve been holding back flood forward.
