Page 93 of My Everything

I grimaced, but nodded. “You’ll be fine?”

“I’m not worried.” Johnny grinned, then turned and headed out the door. I hoped I got to see him again. If I would, it’d be by Marc’s side, and no matter what Johnny said, I wasn’t convinced he still wanted me there.

Leaving her the previous night was near impossible. Every part of me wanted her. My body ached for her long after I slammed the door to her room and fled back to Johnny. My heart and soul screamed at me to go back. To let her have me in any way she wanted.

I couldn’t fucking sleep, and this time, it had nothing to do with the pain in the shoulder. Even if that too was a problem, trying to fit on the uncomfortable couch in his room.

Johnny left, and it wasn’t until he was gone, I truly felt how alone I was. He filled that gap with his bickering and rude remarks. We made each other’s lives bearable by not letting the softer feelings creep up. Now he was gone, and no one was there to tell me what an ass I was.

I found Kaylie in the bedroom. She sat in the bed, leaning back against a pile of throw-pillows stacked against the headboard. Her head snapped up as I entered, and the sour look she shot me before turning her attention back to the book she was reading made guilt thicken my throat.Fuck. This was already hard. Why did she have to look at me like that?

The window was open, letting in a soft warm breeze and the woody scent of forest and pine. I stared at it for a while, breathing with the curtains as they moved. In. Out.

I walked to sit on the bed, keeping my back to her. When I expected her to put the book down, to scoot over to me, to touch me—anything—she did nothing. I listened to the pages turn for as long as I could stand before irritation overpowered the guilt, and the urge to grab her and shake her made me clutch the sheets.

I promised to tell her, and I planned to. But now… how could I? She didn’t even look at me, and if I was going to do this, I needed her fucking support. Thinking about it was hard. Talking about it? I wasn’t sure I was ready. That I’d ever be. I never tried to put it into words. Never even told Johnny, but he knew—so I never had to.

How did one talk about pain so deep, without ripping the wound right open?

Kaylie still turned the pages, ignoring me. No doubt payback for turning her down yesterday. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? She was drunk, and it was not how I intended our first time to be. I scoffed inwardly at the thought. Since when was I some goddamn gentleman who cared about such things? I knew the answer before the thought faded.Since her.

If it was just sex, I would have taken her long ago. But it wasn’t, and even though I hated to admit it, even to myself, it was so much more. I cared about her. So much so that I denied her what we both craved, and suffered through sleepless nights because of it. I fuckinglovedher. And she deserved the truth.

“Her name was Julie.” I forced myself to take that plunge. Once I started, there was no way back, and I needed to do this.

The pages stopped flipping, then a little thud as she closed the book. I gulped. I had her attention, and I was suddenly lost for words. My mouth turned dry, heart picking up its speed until it thundered in my chest. I couldn’t do this. Who was I trying to fool?

The bed shifted as she changed her position. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “We had everything. We were engaged to be married, and she was—” I squeezed the sheet tighter, letting the physical tension anchor me to the present. To Kaylie. “She was pregnant.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “A baby girl.”

She shuffled closer, and soon a soft hand landed on my back. It stroked me, encouraging, comforting. I let out a ragged breath. And there I’d been thinking I needed her to make this easier. It was the opposite. Her touch made it impossible to hide, to pretend this wasn’t crushing me. But I refused to break in front of her.

“I came home late one evening, and…” The images I never wanted to see again crept into my mind.

Julie on the floor. Blood. Her terrified light-brown eyes staring up at me.

“What happened?” Kaylie whispered, snapping me out of the nightmare. She moved closer, wrapping her arm around me from behind, and leaned her cheek on my shoulder.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a few moments of composure. Then forced myself to go on. “The moment I stepped through the door, I felt something was wrong. I found her upstairs, screaming at me to run.”

Kaylie tightened her arm around me, and I sucked in a few quick breaths. “I didn’t—I didn’t listen, to her, to him, and I—” my voice broke.

Before I could try again, she whispered, “Him?”

I just shook my head, unable to go on. It fucking hurt too bad, ripping me apart from the inside.

“Burglar?” She suggested in that soft tone I used to love. Now it nearly destroyed me.

I forced myself to nod. To push through the memories. It was what the police report said. A burglary gone wrong.Gone wrong.

“He screamed at me to get down. All I could think of was reaching her. If I listened, if I did as he fucking said, maybe—” My chest tightened along with my throat, and the air I needed suddenly felt too thick. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fucking stand this self-inflicted torture. There was a reason I never told anyone. It was too hard. Too fucking painful to remember. To know it was my fault.

“Hey.” Kaylie shifted, and the sudden lack of her warmth against me hit me like a slap. My head jerked up, eyes darting to find her.

She moved to sit next to me, giving me space to breathe, but never letting her ocean blues off my face. “I’m here.”

My eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, everything inside stilled. I could do this. I had to. Not only for myself, but for her.

I gave her a stiff nod, then sucked in a shaky breath before daring to continue. “I took a bullet in the thigh.” I scoffed at the fucking odds of being shot twice. “I didn’t even feel it. Not at that moment. But Julie—” I choked back the emotion rising in my throat. “It got her in the stomach—”

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