Page 90 of Beneath the Surface

I need to hold my baby boy.

What Idon’tneed is to talk.

“Did he...” Chase swallows. “I’m sorry I sent him if he hurt you.” His eyes look up to meet mine. “But I’m not sorry for tracking you down.”

My teeth grind as I try to hold back the pain of my broken heart.

I stand, the stiff mattress creaking from the sudden movement. “I’m gonna head out.” I wipe my clammy hands on my thighs.

Chase jerks to his feet, moving toward me. “What? No, you should stay for a while. We’ve barely talked.”

I grace him with a small smile, but I don’t have the motivation to hold it for long. “We’ll have time to talk. You guys are staying for a few days, right?”

He nods, his lips pursing. “I just... you promise you won’t run?”

My chest cramps at his question, realizing the scars he wears are ones I’ve caused. I was selfish back then, lost in the bottom of my addiction.

“I promise.” I say the words softly, walking over and squeezing his shoulder.

While I was caught off guard by him showing up, and I’m still off-kilter from him shoving his way back in my life, I’m grateful he’s here to hold me through the hardship.

You and me against the world.

My throat swells and I back away, heading to the door. “Tell Jax I said bye. You guys can come over tomorrow night, but I work all day.”

“Where do you work?”

“Dina’s Diner. I’m a waitress.”

He blows out a breath. “God, it’s so wild to have you in front of me. You look so...” He shakes his head.

I cock a brow, twisting to face him. “So, what?”

“Healthy.” He sucks on his teeth. “I always thought you did before, but you never looked likethis. You just—I didn’t pay enough attention back then.”

His words slam into the center of my chest, forcing the breath from my lungs. I swallow down the hurt, pasting a smile on my face. It’s thin and it causes the muscles in my cheeks to cramp from the effort. “Yeah, well... you were busy with other things.”

The sour tang in my words doesn’t go unnoticed, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit. “You havenoidea wh—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut him off, not wanting to get into another conversation. My soul can’t bear the weight.

When I reach the door, a sharp throb in my chest has me leaning my head against the door. “Look,” I speak into the wood. “I didn’t ask for you to come here. I know I’ve made mistakes.” My voice cracks. “I know I hurt you.” I suck in a shaky breath. “But you stopped seeing me long before I left. You stopped caring first.”

“Ineverstopped caring.”

“Bullshit!” I snap, anger rushing through my veins and flushing my cheeks. I spin around. “You were so focused on perfect fucking princess Alina that I could have cut a line at the dinner table, and you would have turned the other way.”

His body deflates and he falls back into his chair. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.” I shrug. And then I twist the handle and walk out the door, stumbling through my feelings, trying like hell to keep my head above ground.

I make the long trek back to my house, wiping stray tears from my eyes, and trying to pull it together before I get to Susan’s. And even though I’m breaking—tearing apart at the seams—a small wisp of hope dangles like a hangnail, jagged and sharp but too painful to pull.

For the rest of the night, my ears strain, longing to hear the rumble of an engine and a knock at my door.

But the sounds never come. And I’m left with broken dreams and disappointment.

42

---