Page 122 of Play Me
She pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry for not talking to you about this before now. It wasn’t fair of me to let this pain fester in your soul for this long.”
“You were kind of busy getting your body screwed back together,” I say, grinning sheepishly.
“Hey, it should be fun going through a metal detector if I ever fly again. Can you imagine how that thing will light up?”
Her smile makes me chuckle—and it might be the first real, true, free laugh since the wreck.
“So tell me, what’s your life like?” she asks. “Do you have a wife? Children? I see you’re still quite the rugby star.”
I roll my eyes, making her laugh. “No kids, no wife. But there is a woman who I’m serious about, and that’s one of the reasons I came here, if I’m being honest with you.”
“Why?”
“I needed to be able to make peace with this. This woman, her name is Astrid, she deserves the best of me. And I think I stopped being the best of me the night Caroline died.”
It wasn’t just that Caroline died, but also because it created a Caroline-sized hole in Liza’s life … who also lost her dreams. And I haven’t been able to let go of that guilt. But I need to.
It’s time.
She leans back against her pillows, wincing. “From here on out, let’s make an agreement that we won’t assign blame for the accident. I’ll say it was God, and you can say it was snow or whatever makes you happy. But it wasn’t my fault, your fault, or her fault. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, wobbling forward. It’s as if a weight has been pulled from my back suddenly, and I’m struggling to find my balance. A world without blaming myself for Caroline’s death—what kind of world will that be?
I grin softly.It’ll be a world with Astrid.
“You’ve given me my life back,” I say earnestly, searching Liza’s eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“And you saved mine quite literally.”
I stand, a hundred pounds lighter, and smile down at Liza. “If you need anything, call me.”
“You are officially banned from helping me ever again,” she says, laughing. “Go take care of your woman. Send me a Christmas card, if you must, but that’s it.”
I turn toward the door with my chin tucked to my chest.
“Gray?”
My hand on the knob, I turn to Liza. She’s smiling at me.
“Thank you for coming,” she says. “I needed this as much as you.”
I nod, giving her a final look, and then slip out the door.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Gray
My headlights light up the dark, dead-end street as I creep my way toward Astrid’s house. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to slam on the gas and race the last few yards to her. But it’s late, and people are probably sleeping, and I can’t make my problem anyone else’s … anymore than I already have.
Astrid’s car is in the driveway alongside a small blue coupe that I haven’t seen before.Who the hell is that?
I park beside the curb and am practically out of the truck before I turn off the engine. I jog across the lawn, vaguely aware of the exhaustion settling in my bones, and rap my knuckles lightly against the door. There’s too much energy coursing through me to stand still—too much anticipation of the upcoming conversation with Astrid, so I try to peek in the windows for any signs of life. I should’ve called her and warned her that I was close by, but figured I’d let her sleep as long as I can.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I mutter, knocking again—a little louder this time. “Please answer the door.”
Finally, a light turns on in the hallway and the door handle turns.
