Page 73 of The Space Between
It’s the way I lost myself inside heragain—so deep, so damn hard I forgot what grief even tasted like.
Only now, I feel like I’m being split in two.
Half of me wants to wake her up and do it all over again… the other half wants torun.
I get up and leave the bed… not because I want to… because I have to.
If I stay in that bed with her for one more minute and hear, no feel, her soft breathing against my chest and the tickle of her wild hair over my shoulders while the scent of sex still clinging to my skin, I’ll focus on her… instead of everything that came before her.
That’s not something I’m allowed to do.
Not when Aubree’s giggle still echoes in my ribs.
Not when Molly’s voice still whispers through my dreams.
Hastily yanking on my jeans, I leave the cabin without looking back.
The porch is quiet. It’s surprisingly cool, even though the sun’s already burning through the mist that hovers above the river. I stand there for a second, my bare feet on the rough wood, and stare at the current. It reminds me who I am.
Gruene Cavanaugh.
Husband.
Father.
Widower.
Fucking ghost of a man.
I built this place as a graveyard. Every board, every beam, every stretch of riverfront was supposed to be a monument to what I lost. Butshe’shere now. And for the first time since that fucking night… the dead aren’t the only ones breathing here.
I walk down the steps,follow the drive, and cross to the shop office. The locks are stiff in the morning, and I have to jiggle the key twice before the door gives. Inside, the air is stale and smells like sunscreen and neoprene.
Flicking on the lights, I sink into my desk chair.
There’s work to do—there always is. Emails, bookings, payroll, restocks and weekend prep—but I can’t make myself focus. I keep seeing her bare shoulders rising out of the water… her thighs around my waist… the way her mouth dropped open when she came. And the fucking way she said my name… like it was more than a name… like it was a lifeline.
Damnit to fucking hell.
Slamming the laptop shut, I push back from the desk, hands shaking.
“You’re spiraling.” The voice comes from the doorway.
Reece.
Of course, he saw it.
He’s got a coffee in one hand and an eyebrow raised like he’s watching a slow-motion train wreck.
“You don’t even know what I’m spiraling about.” I snap.
He shrugs. “Don’t need to. I know you, Gruene. You’re my best damn friend even though you’re pretty shitty at it. I’ve known you since we were in diapers. I knew you with Molly andAubree. I knew you after it happened. And I know you now. It’s not hard to put it together, man.”
I grit my teeth. “She’s different,” I mutter.
“I didn’t say she wasn’t.” He calmly says. He can tell I’m spoiling for a fight and he’s not taking the bait.
“She’s not a fucking rebound.” I slam my fists against the desk.
