MYPEACE

COURTNEYCOLE

LAKEHOUSEPRESS,INC.

CONTENTS

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Othercharactersinthisseries…

MYPEACE

appyendingsmustbeworkedfor.

PaxTateusedtobeaneffedupasshole,butyou’dneverknowitnow.

He’sgotasexywife,theirownlittlefamily,acozyhome,andasuccessfulcareer.

Everythingisperfect.

Untilhispastrearsitsuglyhead.

Paxwilldoanythingtoprotecthisfamily,

evenifhedestroyshimselfintheprocess.

****

Names,charactersandincidentsdepictedinthisnovelareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationand

areusedfictitiously.

Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizationsorpersons(livingordead)isentirely

coincidentalandisbeyondtheintentoftheauthororpublisher.

Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedwithoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthororpublisher.If

youarereadingthisbookandyoudidnotpurchaseitfromtheauthor/publisher,oritwasnotgiventoyou

directlybytheauthor/publisher,thenthisbookispirated.

Piracyisacrime.

Pleasedeleteanypiratedbookandpurchaseitthroughanauthorizeddistributor.

PROLOGUE

amflatonmyback,Ithink.

It’shardtosay,becauseIfeellikeI’mfloating.Throughspace,throughwater,throughsomething.

I’mtheperfecttemperature.Nothot,notcold.

Nothingbothersmehere,notinthisabyss.Worries,stress,reality.Allaregone.Farfromme,farfrom

here.

Ican’tfeel.

Ican’tthink.

Idon’tneedto.

Still,eventhoughit’sperfecthere,andblackandvoid,somethingisn’tright.Iknowthat.Itnigglesat

me,botheringme,likeanitch.Iscratchatit,atthethought,andIrealizethatitbothersmebecauseI

shouldn’tbehere.

Thisisanoldfamiliarplace,aplaceIhaven’tvisitedinalongtime.

Oblivion.

HowdidIgethere?

Whatthefuckhappened?

Ifurrowmybrowandtrytothink…

CHAPTERONE

Pushingbackfrommydesk,Istretch,archingmybackandflexingmyarms.

MyleathershoessqueakwhenImove,andmytoesareconfined.

Ifuckinghatewearingsuits.

Glancingatmywatch,Irealizethetime.

“Damnit.”Igrabthephoneandpunchthebuttonformyassistant.

“Yes,Mr.Tate?”

“Wouldyoucallmycarforme?I’mlate.”

“Yes,sir.”

Idon’tbotherremindingherthatshedoesn’tneedtocallmesir.Sashawasmygrandfather’sassistant

beforeheretired,andhewasold-school.Oldhabitsdiehardforher.

AsIstridethroughmyofficedoors,Sashascramblestoherfeetatherdesk.

“Here’syourbag,”shethrustsitintomyhands.“ButwhatshouldItellMr.Andre?Youhadameeting

withhimtonighttodiscussaproposal.”

“Fuck,”Imutter.“Iforgot.Canyoureschedulefortomorrow?I’vegotsomewhereimportanttobe.”

“Ofcourse.Haveagoodnight,sir.”

“You,too.”

WhenIreachthestreet,thedoormanopensthedoorforme,andmycariswaiting,alongsleek,black

Cadillac.Itwasalsoinheritedfrommygrandfather.HebelievedthattheCEOofAlexanderHoldings

shouldarriveanddepartfromworkinachauffeuredcar.Hewas,andstillis,abigbelieverincreating

yourownreality.

Ifweportrayasenseofsuccess,wewillbesuccessful.

Wealreadyare,andwedon’tneedtoputonashowtoproveit,butIgrudginglyagreedtohisquirks

whenItookoverforhimtwoyearsago.“IneedtogettotheMinnow,Rog,”Itellthedriver.“I’mlate.”

“Willdo.”Hetakesofflikeabullet,andIgoabouttheimpossibletaskofchangingmyclothesinthe

backseatofamovingcar.

Mylegsarelong,sofoldingandcontortingmyselftochangeclothesmustlookridiculous.Isee

Roger’sliptwitchintherearviewmirror.

“Shutit,”Igrowlathim,shovingmyarmintoablackt-shirtsleeve.Iliftmyhipsandwiggleintomy

favoritejeans,andthankfully,finally,replacemyloaferswithbroken-incowboyboots.

“Ahh,”Isigh,settlingbackintotheseat.“That’smorelikeit.”

I’mcomfortableinjeansandatee.It’swhereIbelong.It’smucheasiertoswallowbeingdriven

aroundwhenyou’rewearingcomfortableclothes.

Igrabmyphoneandtextmywife.

Babe,I’llbetherein5.

Therearethreebubbles.

Hurryup.Imissyou.

Ismile.I’mcoming.

Threebubbles.Youwish.

Ilaughnow,andthisismyfavoritepartofmyday…whenIgettoseeMila.She’sjusttheright

combinationofsassyandsweet,sexyandinnocent.She’sperfect,anddeepdown,IknowIdon’tdeserve

her.Butshe’sstayedwithmeanyway.

Soon,thecarglidesuptothecurbinfrontoftheWoundedMinnow,andIgetout.

“Youdon’tneedtowait.I’lldrivehomewithmywife.”

Rogernods.“Haveagoodnight,boss.”

“You,too.”

Ipushthroughthefrontdoorofthebar,andsearchthecrowdedroom.Milastandsupataboothinthe

backandherfacelightsupwhenshesmiles,hergreeneyesbright.

She’swithhersisterandbrother-in-law,MadisonandGabe.Theyallwave,andIweavethroughthe

crowdedroomtogettothem.WhenIdo,Milastandsuponhertiptoestokissme,hersoftlipspressedto

mine.Shesmellslikelavenderandvanilla,likeallthingsgoodintheworld.

Shesmellslikehome.

“Hey,babe,”Imurmuragainstherlips,andmyhandsstretcharoundtopressherhipsintomine.“I

missedyou.”

“Imissedyou,too,”sheanswers,andshewigglesupagainstme.

“God,getaroom,”Madisongroansfromthetable,andwebreakapart,laughing.

“It’snotmyfaultthatyourhusbandistootiredto…”

“Watchit,”Gabeinterruptsme,glaringoverhiswhiskeyglass.“Whenyouhaveatwo-monthold

again,onewhodoesn’twanttosleep,youcangivemeshitaboutbeingtired.Untilthen,biteme.”

Hiseyesarered,therearebagsunderthem,andthewholethingcracksmeup.

“OddthatMaddylooksasgorgeousasusual,”Ipointout,slidingintotheboothandkissingmysister-

in-lawonthecheek.Shereallydoeslookgorgeous,tallandblonde.Sheisthepolaroppositeofmywife,

whoispetiteandbrunette.Buttheyarebothbeautiful.

“Flatterygetsyoueverywhere,”Maddypromisesme,andshesignalsforthebartender.“Heneedsa

drink,”sheannouncestohim.

“Justclubsoda,”Itellhim.

Maddyrollshereyes.“Youcanletloosetonight,”shetellsme.“We’recelebrating.”

“Whatexactlyarewecelebrating?”IaskasMilasettlesintothecrookofmyarm,herhandonmy

thigh.Herfingersslideupwardalittle,towardmygroin,andIgiveherside-eye.Theevilminxgrins

fromeartoear.

“Youknow…yourcontractwithDefenseTech,”Milaremindsme,asthoughherfingersaren’ta

quarterofaninchfrommypenis.

Iswallow.“Oh,yes.AnotheryearofmekeepingGabeinajob.”

Gabecackles,androllshiseyesbecauseit’snottrueandwebothknowit.Hisbusinesshasgrown

exponentially,andwithoutmybusiness,hisbodyarmorcompanywouldstillbefine.Ididgivehimhis

start,though.AndI’mneveronetopassuptakingcreditforsomething.

“Whatever,”hegrunts.“You’reluckytohavemeandyouknowit,dude.”

Welaughandchatforthenexthour,anditfeelssofuckinggoodtobesittingaroundatableinadingy

littlebarwiththepeopleIlovethemost.

“HowwasZuZutoday?”Iaskmywife.

“Sameaswhenyouleftthismorning.Fourgoingonfourteen.”

“That’smygirl,”Igrin.

“I’mstillpissedthatyouaren’tcallingherMaddy,”Madisoncomplains.“Younamedherafterme.I

feelcheated.”

“Whatever,”Milatellsher.“Itgotconfusingandyouknowit.”

“Yeah,buttonicknameherafterthegirlinAWonderfulLife?Thatmovieisjustdepressing,”she

complainsagain.“Seriously.”

“Itisnot,”Miladefendsus.“Andit’salsoafterhermiddlename,Susanna.ZuZuisafittingname.So

hush.”

Maddyrollshereyes,butmydaughterhasherwrappedaroundherlittlepinkieandweallknowit.

Maddyhasboughtherapproximatelyonehundredpairsofshoesinthisyearalone.

Istarttomentionit,butMaddyholdsupherhand.“Sheneededthosepinkcowboyboots.”

Isnort.“Whatabouttheotherninety-ninepairs?”

“That’sneitherherenorthere,”Maddysniffs.

Milalaughsandsignalsthewaiterforanotherglassofwine.“Youwantaglass,honey?”sheasksme.

“Sure.Oneglasswon’thurtanything.”

Maddysighsfromacrossthetable.“You’vegotsuchwillpower,Pax.”

“Andtothink,youusedtothinkIwasalostcause,”Iribher.

“Idid,”sheadmitswithoutremorse.“Butyouprovedusallwrong.”

“Yup.”

Weorderbigjuicyburgers,andMilaandIsipatourwinewhileMaddyandGabeplayagameof

pool.Milanestlesinthecrookofmyshoulder,andIrunmyfingersthroughthetipsofherdarkhair.

“Didyouhaveagoodday?”Iaskandherfingerscurlaroundmyarm.

“Yes.It’sbetternow,though.”

Ismile,kissingthetopofherhead.

“Yeah.”

“Howwaswork?”

Igrowllightly.“Nope.Noworktalk.I’moutofthatsuitandI’mherewithyou.”

Milasmiles.“Idon’tthinkyoudislikeitnearlyasmuchasyousay.”

Ithinkonthat.Idon’tdisliketherespectthatthejobcommands.Idon’tdislikethesalary,although,

sinceI’vealwayshadatrustfund,themoneywasn’tnewtome.

“IguessIjusthatetheconfinement,”Iadmit.“Ihatethesuits.AndtheYes,sirs.Itdoesn’tfeellike

me.”

“It’snotyou,”Milaagrees.“It’sjustyourjob.Youcanbeyouagainwhenyoucomehome.Butyou’re

sogoodatwhatyoudo.Yourgrandfatherwasjusttellingmesotheotherday.”

Ican’thelpbutfeelsatisfactioninthat,inhisapproval.WilliamAlexanderishardtoimpress,and

onceyou’vedoneit,youdon’tforgetit.

“Good.”

“He’scomingoverfordinnernextweek,”shementions.Inod.

“Ok.”

TheheatfromMila’sbodyiscomforting,andwearespoonedtogetherasmuchaswecanbeinabar

booth.Milaliftsherheadfrommychest.“I’mreadytogohomenow,”shetellsmesoftly.Hereyesare

largeandsuggestive.

“Anyparticularreasonwhy?”Iask,myeyebrowraised.

“I’llgiveyouthreeguesses,”sheanswers,slidingherhanddiscreetlyupmythighagain.

Icatchherfingersdeftly.

“Ok.Let’sgetyououtofherebeforeyougetusarrestedforindecentexposure.”

Shegigglesandweheadtothepooltabletosayourgoodnights.WeleaveMadisonwinningatpool

andGabedesperatelytryingtopretendhe’slosingonpurpose.Weallknowbetter.He’sabigbadArmy

Ranger,butMadisondoesn’tloseatanythingsheputshermindto.

Wewalkthroughthedarkparkinglottomywife’sSUV.Iopenthepassengerdoorandhelpherin,and

whenIgetinthedriver’sside,I’massaultedimmediatelybymywife.

Shepressesagainstme,herlipsagainstmine,hertongueplungingintomymouth.

“I’vereallymissedyou,”shesayssoftly,herhandsplayedagainstmychest.

“I’veonlybeengoneeighthours,”Itellher,butI’mnotveryconvincing,becauseImissedhertoo.

“We’repathetic,”shepointsout,butshedoesn’tcareandneitherdoI.

“We’relucky,”Icorrecther,asIstrokemyfingersagainsther.Shearchesintomyhand.

“Verylucky.Andyou’reabouttogetluckier.”

Sheunfastensmypantsanddipsherhead,andbeforeIknowit,mywifeisgivingmeablowjobinthe

parkinglot.

Isuckinabreathasherfingerscurlaroundmyballs,justlikeI’dtaughtheryearsago.

“Fuck,”Iexhale.

“Inaminute,”Milaagrees,hermouthagainstmyshaft.

Sheslidesherlipsupanddown,andthesuction…Lordhavemercy.

“You’rekillingme,woman,”Igroan.Shegrins,andIliftherontomylap.

Shepullsherpantiesdown.

Ican’tbreathe.

Shegrinsagain.

ThenIplungeintoher,usingmyarmstoliftherup…thendown.

“Christ.”

“Yeah,”shesighsagainstmyneck.

Thethrillofmakinglovetomywifeinapublicplace,whereanyonemighthappenuponus,is

exhilarating.

Ionlylastafewminuteslongerbecauseofit,andsoon,I’mspasminginsideofher,wetandhot.

Sheclutchesatmyhairwhenshefindsherownrelease.

“Pax,”shesighs.“Pax.”

“That’sit,baby,”Irockwithher,feelinghershudderaroundme.“Letitgo.”

Iholdhertightforafewmoreminutes,herhairplasteredtoherforehead,andstickingtomychest.

“Thatwasnice,”shesayssleepily.

“Thatwasfantastic,”Icorrect.“ButIneedtogetyouhometoourbed.”

Shenodsinagreement,andweputourclothesbackon.Milastrapsintothepassengerseat,andInose

theSUVoutoftheparkingspotandthenoutofthelottowardhome.

Hartfordisdarkandquietatthistimeofnight,andtrafficislight.It’saneasydrive,andIsettleinfor

it,turningtheradioonlow.

Milaisasleepwithinfiveminutes,andIglanceoverather.

Herhairisfallingacrosshercheek,andherhandiscurledunderherchin.Shelooksangelic.Noone

wouldeverguesswhatwehadjustdoneinapublicparkinglot.

Iturnontothestreetthatleadsuptooursubdivision,andourheadlightsshineontoacarpulledover

ontotheshoulder.

Awomanstandsnexttoit,studyingherflattirewithaperplexedlookonherface.

Ican’tjustdrivepast.

It’smidnight,andthewomanisalone.Itwouldn’tberight.

So,Ipullupbehindher.

Milastirs.

“I’lljustbeaminute,”Itellher.“Someonehascartrouble.”

Shemurmursaresponse,andIstepintothebrisknightair.

“Doyouhaveaspare?”IcalloutasIwalktowardthewoman.She’sstartled,butthensmiles.

“Um.I’mnotsure,”sheanswerssheepishly.“I’veneverhadaflatbefore.”

“Well,don’tworry.Icanhelp,”Iassureher.“Canyoupopyourtrunk?”

Shegetsinhercarandfindsthebutton,andIhearthethumpofthetrunk’sleverreleasing.Iturnto

walktoit,andheadlightsaresuddenlyinmyface.

Notmyownheadlights.

Inthismoment,Iknowhowadeermustfeel,becauseit’sdisorienting,andI’mnotsurewhichwayto

move,andthenthedecisionismadeforme.

SomethingslamsintomeandI’mhurtlingthroughtheair.

Mylastconsciousthoughtis…Jesus,thisshouldhurt,butitdoesn’t.

Andtheneverythingisblack.

CHAPTERTWO

ila

SweetLord,Ican’tbelievewe’rehereagain.

I’mpacingthehospitalwaitingroom,andPaxisbehindthedoubledoors,andIdon’tknowwhat’s

happening.

“M’am,didyougetalookatthevehicle?”Thepolicemaninfrontofmetriestokeepmeontrack,

whenallIwanttodoisbargethroughthedoorsandfindmyhusband.

“No,”Itellhimagain,forthefifthtime.“I’msorry.Iwashalf-asleepandmyeyeswereclosed.”

Ifeelguiltyaboutthatnow.Imean,myhusbandwastryingtohelpsomeoneandIcouldn’tbebothered

towakeup?

“Stopit,”mysistersays,eyeingme.Sheknowsmetoowell.“Thiswasn’tyourfault.”

“Iknow,”Imumble.“Itwasanaccident.”Ilookupather.“CanyoucallChelcie,andaskhertostay

thenightwithZu?Idon’tknowwhattimeI’llbeleavinghere.”

Maddynods.“Ofcourse.”Shedisappearsaroundacornerasshepullsherphoneoutofherpurseto

callmybabysitter,andGabefallsintostepwithmeasIpace.Hisbigbodydwarfsmine,theskull-and-

crossbonestattooonhisbicepreadingdeathbeforedishonor.

“Youdon’thavetobabysitme,”Itellhim.“I’mfine.”

“I’mnotbabysitting,”heprotests.“I’mpacing.Iliketopace.”

Hestaysinstepwithmeforafewminutesmorebeforehespeaksagain.

“He’sgoingtobefine,Mila.”

Inod,becausethere’snowayhe’llbeanythingelse.Paxisstrong,he’safighter.He’sovercomeso

muchalready.

Thepolicemanclearshisthroat,andIhadalmostforgottenhewashere.

“Ifyouarecontactedbyanyone,bythegirlyoustoppedtohelp,forexample,willyouletusknow?’

HeoffersmehiscardandItakeit,andI’mconfused.

“Wait.Youhaven’tspokenwiththegirl?”

Thepolicemaneyesme.“No.AsImentionedearlier,sheleftthescene.”

Idon’trememberthatatall.“I’msorry,”Itellhim.“I’mabitflustered.”

Henods.“It’sperfectlyunderstandable.Justletusknowif,forsomereason,shetriestocontactyou.”

“Ok.”

Heleaves,andGabeandIpacetogetherforafewmoreminutes.Finally,I’mtootiredtopace,andI

collapseintoachair.Maddycomesback,andholdsmyhand,andI’mjustclosingmyeyestorestthem

whenthesurgeonemergesfromthedoor.

Iknowit’sthesurgeonbecausehe’swearingoneofthosecapsthatyouseeonERshows,andhe

looksexhausted.

“Yourhusbandisgoingtobeok,”hetellsmequietly.Gabe,MaddyandIexhalecollectively,amass

releaseofpent-upanxiety.“Hisspleenwasrupturedintheimpact,butwe’veremoveditandstoppedthe

internalbleeding.Hiskneewashyper-extended,aswell.He’llbesore,buthe’sgoingtomakeit.”

IfIweren’talreadysitting,Iwouldcollapsefromrelief.Mykneesfeelnumb.

“CanIseehim?”Iaskquickly.

“Yes.I’llhaveanursecomegetyouwhenhe’swheeledtoaroom.”Hedisappearsbackthroughthe

doorsandMaddyhugsmetightly.

“See?Itoldyou.”

Inod,andI’mstillnumb.“Yeah.”

It’snotverylonguntilanursecomestogetme,andtakesmetoPax.

Ipauseatthedoor,lookingatthemaninthebed.

He’spalerthanheshouldbe,he’sgottubeshookeduptohishand,andhe’sgotmusclesandtattoos.

He’smine,althoughbeinghere,remindsmeofanightwhenhewasn’tmineyet.ThenightIfirstmethim.

He’doverdosedonthebeach,andI’dfoundhiminapoolofvomit.I’dgivenhimCPRandcalledan

ambulance,andthenhadcometoseehimthenextdayinthehospital.Imight’vefalleninlovewithhim

thatveryday.

Hishazeleyesopennow,slowly,buttheybrightenwhenheseesme.

“Hey,Red,”hesayssoftly.“Whattookyousolong?”

Ilaugh,becauseI’mhislittleRedRidingHoodandhe’smyBigBadWolf.Alwaysandforever.Irush

acrosstheroom,andgrabhishand,theonethatdoesn’thaveanIV.

“OhmyGod,youscaredme,”Ibreathe,inhalinghisneck,andkissinghischeek.“SweetLord,Pax.”

“Youscareeasily,”hepointsout,andhisarmwrapsaroundme,tuggingmecloser.

“No,”Ianswerfirmly.“Yougothitbyacar.Acar.”

“Wedon’tknowforsureit’sacar,”hereplies.“Itcould’vebeenatruck.OranSUV.Itsortafeltlike

anSUV.”

Herubsathiship,andIrollmyeyestohidemypanic.

“You’reridiculous,”Itellhim.

Hegrins.

“Yeah.Butyouloveme.”

“Yeah.”

PaxtugsmeuntilItumbleoverthebedrailingandcollapseintohisside.Isnugglethere,intohisarm,

andhesmellsunfamiliar,likeiodineandsterility.NotlikemyPax.

“Youstink,”Imumbleintohisarm.

Hechuckles.

“Youdon’t.”Hesniffsatmyhair.“Youalwayssmellthesame.LikeLavenderandvanilla.You’remy

home,babe.”

“Thedrugshaveyouaddled,”Itellhim,buthiswordswarmmyheart.Theyalmostmakeallofthe

panicandanxietyworthit.Almost.“Didyouknowthegirl?”Iask.“Thepolicesaidsheleftthescene.”

Ifeelmyhusbandshakehishead.“Nope.Shewasjustarandomchickwithaflattire.Shedidn’t

knowhowtochangeit.”

“Thenhowdidshefleethescene?”Iwonderaloud.

Paxshrugs.“Shewasprobablyfreakedoutanddroveontherim.Whoknows?”

“We’llneverknow,”Iagree.“Allthatmattersisthatyou’regoingtobeok.”

“Youshouldgohomeandgetsomerest,”Paxtellsme.“Seriously.I’llbeok,sweetheart.”

Mygutclenches,becauseGod.IfthecarortruckorSUV,orwhateverthehellitwas,hadbeenjust

onemoreinchtotheright,Paxwouldn’thavebeensolucky.ItmakesmesicktomystomachandIclench

hishandtightly.

“No.I’mstayingrighthere.”

“ButwhataboutZu?”

“IhadMaddycallChelcie.”

“Babe,gohome.Justcomebackinthemorning.Youwon’tbeabletosleephere.”

I’mtryingtoprotestwhenanurseinterruptsus.“Yes,Mrs.Tate.Youreallycan’tbeheretonight.He’s

inrecovery,andIneedtomonitorhisvitals.I’mnotsureI’llgetanaccuratepulsereadifyouareinbed

withhim.”Shegesturestowardthemonitorswithawrysmile,andPaxlaughs.

“True,”hepointsout.“Youaffectme,Red.”

“Still?”Iaskbreathlessly,andhegrinsagain.

“Doyoureallydoubtthat?”

Ishakemyhead,rememberingwhatwehaddoneintheparkinglotearlier.“No.”

“Good.Gohome.GiveZuakissforme,andcomebackinthemorningtogetme.”

“Idoubtyou’llbereadyforreleasethatsoon,”thenursecautionshim,butPaxignoresher.

“I’llcallRoger,”Paxreachesforhisphone,butIshakemyhead.

“No.It’sthemiddleofthenight.I’llhaveGabedropmeoff.”

“They’restillhere?”Paxliftsaneyebrow.

“Ofcourse.Theyloveyou.They’lltakemetogetourcartomorrow,too.”

HenodsandIthrowmyarmsaroundhisneck.Hewinces,thenhidesit.

“Areyourpainmedswearingoff?”Iask,thenIturntothenursebeforeheanswers.“Heneedsmore.

Pleasedon’tlethimbeinpain.”

“He’singoodhands,”sheassuresme.“Ipromise.”

“Ok.”

Paxkissesmylipssoftly,andthenalittlemoreinsistently.Thenurseclearsherthroat,gesturingagain

atthemonitor.Ismileagainstmyhusband’slips.

“IguessIdoaffectyou,”Isigh.“I’llbebackinthemorning.Don’tgoanywhere.”

Hechuckles,andIgetup,butIpauseatthedoor.

Thenurseischeckingthepulseathiswrist,andhe’ssobigandstrong,andhelookssooutofplacein

thehospitalbed.

“Iloveyou,”Itellhim.

Hiseyesaregoldashelooksupatme.“Iloveyou,too,Red.Sweetdreams.”

“Always.”

Iforcemyselftoleave,andGabeandMaddywalkmethroughthehospitalcorridorsandoutintothe

chillynight.

I’msilentastheydrivemehome,myeyeshotandredfromlackofsleep.

“He’sok,”mysisterremindsmeaswepullintomydriveway.“Youcanrelaxandgetsomesleep.”

“Iknow,”Iagree.“Thankyouforgivingmearide.”

“We’llbebackinthemorningtotakeyoutoyourcar,”Gabesaysgruffly.

“Thankyou,guys,”ImurmurasIclimbout.“Really.”

TheywaitasIunlockthedoor,andthentheydriveaway,theirtaillightsdisappearingintothenight.

Iglanceatmywatch.It’sthree-thirtya.am.

ChelcieisasleeponthesofaandIhesitatetowakeher.

“I’mhome,”Itellhersoftly.“Feelfreetostayheretonight,ifyou’dlike.”

“IsPaxok?”sheasksworriedly,sittingup.Inod.Iknowshe’ssincerelyconcerned.She’slikefamily

now.Shewasourwaitressoverayearagoinatinydivecafé,andaftertalkingwithher,wefoundoutthat

shewasanorphan,thatshehadnomoney,andshewastryingtoputherselfthroughcollege.

Thatwasallittook.Paxpaidhertuitionthenextday,andshe’sbeenourbabysittereversince.

“He’sfine,”Itellher.“Hisspleenruptured,sotheyhadtotakeitout.He’llbeinthehospital

overnight,buthe’sfine.”

“OhmyGod,”shebreathes,andhereyesarehuge.“Ican’tbelieveit.Didtheycatchtheguy?”

“No.Notyet.Itwasahitandrun.”

“Jesus,”shebreathes,pullingoffherblanket.“WhatcanIdo?”

“You’vealreadydoneit,”Itellher.“YoustayedherewithZu.Thankyou,Chelcie.Imeanit.”

“Anytime.Ofcourse.”

SherubsathereyesandIglancearoundtheroom.It’slarge,comfortable,andnice.It’snotover-the-

topfancy,becausePaxandIaren’tlikethat.Butthefurnishingsareexpensive,tastefulandclassic.Our

houseislarge,butit’sstillhomey.

“Zuzuissleeping,”Chelcieaddsneedlessly.“Shewenttobedatnine,andshe’sbeenasleepever

since.”

“Thanks,Chels.Youcanstayintheguestroom,ifyouwant.Youprobablyshouldn’tdrivesolate.”

Sheshakesherhead.“I’mfine.I’vegotanexamateight,soIshouldgo.”

“Ok.”Iwalkhertothedoor,andwhenshe’sgone,Isetthealarm.Weliveinaniceneighborhood,but

I’vealwaysbeencareful.MaddysaysI’mparanoid,butit’snotthat.I’mjustrealistic.

AfterfindingoutthatPax’smotherhadbeenmurderedincoldbloodsolongagobytheirmailman,

I’velearnedthatlifecanbetragicandrandom,andit’ssmarttobecautious.Peoplecanbesick,andyou

neverknowwhatapersonisreallylikeuntilyoutrulygettoknowthem.

Istripoffmyclothesandbrushmyteethandclimbintoourgiantbedalone.

Withonlymeinit,itisenormous,andPax’ssideiscold.

Istareoutthewallofwindowsfacingme,attheviewofthegardens.Iwatchthetreetopsswayinthe

night,andIknowthatinacoupleofhours,thesunwillcomeup,andwhenitdoes,whenthefirstfingers

ofdawnstretchintomydaughter’sroom,Zuzuwillbewideawake.

Myphonebuzzesonmynightstand.

Gotosleep.Iloveyou.

Ismileatmyhusband’stext.Heknowsmewell.

Quitbeingbossy,Ianswer.ButIloveyou,too.

Acrosstown,Paxislyingawakeinahospitalbed,andhe’sjustasunabletosleepasIam,because

we’resousedtofallingasleepentwinedtogether.

I’llseeyousoon,Iadd.

Closingmyeyes,Iletthedarknessswallowmeup,envelopingmeinitssilentvoid.

Sleepcomesquickly.

CHAPTERTHREE

IgroanasImove.

“Sonofabitch,”Imutter,asIattempttogetdressed.Myfuckingbackfeelslikeitwastwistedintoa

pretzelandthenchewedonbyironteeth.Igroanagain,andtheyoungnursewalkinginnotices.

“Youok?”sheraisesaneyebrow,herdarkeyesshowingconcern.“Idon’tthinkyoushould’vesigned

yourselfout.”

“I’vegotthingstodo,”Itellher.“Andbeinghereisn’tgoingtohelpanything.”

“Youcouldresthere,”shemakesherwayacrosstheroom,andstopsnexttome,herhandsonmy

shoulders.Shepalpatesmytenderbody,feelingfor…Idon’tknowwhat.Herfingerslingeronmychest.

“Iwouldtakeverygoodcareofyou.”

I’mstartledbecausehertonehasjustgottenverysuggestiveandIknowI’mnotimaginingit.

Shesmilesslightly,andImoveaway,outofherreach.

“That’sok,”Itellherfirmly.“Mywifewilltakegoodcareofmeathome.”

Thenurseisn’tbothered.“She’snottrainedlikeIam,”shepointsout,andsheturnsoffthemonitors,

andbendsslowlyinfrontofmetostraightenthepillowthatI’mnotevenusing.Herassisintheairin

frontofme.“IknowexactlywhatI’mdoing.”

Holyshit.

“Howunprofessional,”Isay.I’mnotharsh,andI’mnotmean,butthere’sonethingI’velearnedin

life.Youhavetobedirectforpeopletounderstandyou.

Shepauses,assessingme,assessingmyinterest.

WhensheseesthatI’mnotinterested,atall,shestraightensandisbacktobusiness,pretendingthat

shehadn’tspoken.

Shehandsmeapaper.“Theseareyourdischargeinstructions,”shesays,andshe’sperfunctorynow.

“Youneedtofollowupwithyourphysician,youshouldavoidphysicalactivityuntilyourdoctorclears

you.Takeiteasybecauseyou’regoingtobesoreforawhile.Hereisascriptforpainmedication.

Becauseofyourhistory,theyarenon-narcotic,buttheywillstillhelp.You’regoingtoneedthem.You’re

prettybangedup.”

“Youthink?”Iaskdryly,wincingagainasImove.

“Don’ttrytobeatoughguy,”sheadvises.“Youneedtostayinfrontofthepain.Soiftheinstructions

saytaketwoeveryfourhours,doit.”

Inod.“Fine.Thankyou.”

Shepausesatthedoor,andlooksatmeonemoretime.“Doyouneedanythingelse?”

Sheappearstobehopeful.Jesus.

“No,thanks,”Itellher.

“Well,ifyouchangeyourmind,pressthe‘call’button.”

ShedisappearsandIexhale.Isthatwhatwomenarelikenowadays?I’vebeenoffthemarketforfive

years,butIswear,somewomenseeaweddingringasachallenge.

Iamquicklydistractedthough,becauseIhearthethudofsmallsneakeredfeetandthengirlishshrieks.

“Daddy!”Zuzuboundsintotheroom,herblondcurlsbouncingassheleapsupnexttome.Iswallow

hardfrombeingjostled.

“Punkin,”Ihugherwithonearm,andshesmellslikesunshineandlittlegirl.“Imissedyou.”

Shelooksupatmewithgreeneyesjustlikehermama’s.“Mommysaysyouhurtyourself.”

“Well,yeah.IguessIdid.ButI’mok,”Iassureher.

Milastepsintotheroom.“Ifyou’dstopsteppinginfrontofmovingvehicles,you’dbeperfect.”

Ichuckle.“Ihopeyou’reheretospringmeout.”

“Onlyifyoupromisetobeagoodboy,”shesayssassily,andhereyegleamassheapproaches.“Be

carefulwithdaddy,”shetellsZu.“He’sfragile.”

Irollmyeyesandheftmyselfup.“I’llshowyoufragile,”Igrumbleundermybreath.Mywifejust

laughs.

“Youreadytogohome?”sheasks,hereyebrowraised.“Orwereyouwantingtosleephereanother

night?”

“Let’sgetthef…”Ipause,eyingmydaughter.“Flockout.”

Mydaughterleadstheway,skippingdownthecorridor,makingnursessmileather.EverystepItake

hurtslikehell,butItrynottoshowit.I’mnotapussy,andI’mnotgoingtoactlikeone.

Oncewe’reloadedintoMila’sSUV,sheglancesatme.“I’llgogetyourmedsafterIgetyouhome.I

don’twantyoutohavetowaitatthepharmacy.”

“I’mnotaninvalid,”Itellher,butJesus,theseatmakesmybackscream.Everymuscleinmybody

feelslikeitiscontracting,twisting,andhasbeenshreddedthoughameatgrinder.

“Noarguments,”Milasaysfirmlyasshepullsoutoftheparkingspaceandontotheroad.“You’remy

patientnow,andI’mastrictnurse.Somemightevensaymilitant.”

“You’dbetterlisten,daddy,”Zuzuadvisesfromthebackseat.“Mommaknowseverything.”

Iraiseaneyebrow,eventhoughthathurts,too.“Everything?”

Zunods.“Yup.”

“Listentoyourdaughter,”Milalaughs.“She’swise.Shegetsthatfromme.”

WedriveoverabumpandIsuckinabreathasthepainreverberatesthroughmyribcage.Mila

glancesatme.

“Howbadisit?”sheasks.

“Notatall,”Ilie.“It’sgreat.Refreshing,actually.”

Mywiferollshereyes.“Remindsyouyou’realive?”

Inod.“Exactly.”

Sherunsoveranotherbump.

“I’vealreadybeenreminded,”Itellher.“Avoidthepotholes.”

“Sorry,”shesays.“I’lltry.”

Wesailthroughthemorningtraffic,andwhenwegethome,I’veneverseenanythingsowelcomingas

ourcozyCapeCod.Eventhewrap-aroundporchlooksAll-American,andIexhaleasIclimboutofthe

car.

MilarushesaheadtounlockthedoorandIclimbthestairsgingerly.

“Daddy,I’llreadyouastory,”Zuoffersaswewalkinside.“Iknowtwoofthem.”

“Shememorizedthem,”Milatellsmequietly.“Butthat’sok.It’showIlearnedtoread,too.”

“I’dlovethat,”IanswerZuzu.“Gogetyourbooks,sweetheart.I’llbeonthecouch.”Iheadtothe

kitchenfirsttograbsomeicepacks,andthensettleinthefamilyroom.

Surroundedbythefamiliarartworkandourcomfortablefurniture,Ifinallyrelax.Homehasawayof

doingthattoaperson.

Zuzutucksinnexttome,and‘reads’meherDr.SuessbookswhileMilarunsouttogetmy

prescriptionsfilled,andthesweetchildishvoiceofmydaughterlullsmetosleep.

I’mawakenedhourslaterbyMilashakingmyshouldergently,abottleofwaterinherhand.

“Here,”shethruststwopillsatme.“Takethese.”

“I’mok,”Itellher,butshe’salreadyshakingherhead.

“Nope.Theysaidtostayinfrontofthepain.Takethem,toughguy.”

“YouthinkI’mpussy-whipped,”Itellher,asIswallowthepills.“ButI’mnot.I’mtakingthese

becauseIwantto.”

Shelaughs.“Oh,Iknow.It’scompletelyyouridea.”

“Justsowe’reclear,”Igrumble.Shelaughsagain.

“Yourgrandfatheriscomingovertonighttocheckonyou.”

“Really?Ithoughthewascomingoverfordinnernextweek.”

Shesighs.“Pax,you’rehisonlygrandchild.Youwerejusthitbyacar.He’scomingtocheckonyou.

Also,yourfathercalledtocheckonyou,too.Youmightwanttocallhimback.”

“Didyoucalleveryoneontheplanet?”

She’ssheepish.“Iwasworried.Therewasn’tmuchtodointhewaitingroomotherthanpace.”

Ikisshernose,eventhoughthemovementistorture.Itfeelslikemyribsarescrapingeachother,the

bonesdiggingintoflesh.Iignoreit.

“Iloveyou.I’msorryyouwereworried.”

“IloveyousoI’llalwaysworry.It’smyjob.”

Shebustlesout,andIlovewatchinghergo,becausemywifehasaperfectass.Atthedoor,shepauses

andglancesback.

“Ifeltyoustaring.”

Igrin,andshe’sgone.

Thepainpillsmakemesleepy,andsoIlaymyheadback.ThenextthingIknow,Milaiswakingme

upagain.Iknowtimehaspassedbecauseshadowscreepalongthewallsnow.

“Babe,dinnerisinanhour.Doyouwanttoshower?”

I’mgroggyfromsleepingduringtheday.I’mnotonefornaps.

“Yeah,”Imumble.“That’llbegood.”

Milakissesmycheek,andherlipsarewarm.“Yourgrandfatherisonhisway.I’vegotanewbottleof

Glenfiddichforhim.”

Ishudder.“Gah.Idon’tknowwhyhelovesthatshit.”

Sheshrugs.“Meeither.Butwehaveabottleforhim.”

MyribsfeelliketheyaregoingtospringfrommysternumasIgettomyfeet,andIimaginethemtautly

tuned,onebyonespringingfreelikeoverlytightenedguitarstrings.Itmakesmecringe,andMilanotices.

“Youok?”

“I’mperfect.”

“Needmorepainmedicine?Ithinkit’stime.”

“AfterIshower.”

ShenodsandIhobbledowntoourbathroom.It’slargeandfromthedoor,itseemsthattheshoweris

amillionmilesaway.Eachstepispainful,andwithnoonewatchingme,Ilimppathetically.Mykneeis

killingme,too.ButI’monlyapussyifsomeonesees.

Iletthehotwaterpeltmyheadandback,andtheheatrelaxessomeofthepent-uptension.Mybruised

upbodyfeelslikeitiscoiledaroundanironspool.Iwon’tbehittingthegymthisweek,that’sforsure.

Gingerly,Ilatherupandrinseoff.

Evenmoregingerly,Iusethetoweltodry.

Lordhavemercy,everythinghurts.Evenmyscalp.

IbendslowlytodryoffmyfeetandasIdo,Iglanceatthewastebasket.Idon’tknowwhy.Myeyeis

justdrawntothewickershell,andthecrumpledtissueswithin.

Thereisawhiteplasticsticklyingamidthetissue.

Whatthe….

Ireachforit,pullitout,anditisapregnancytest.

Therearetwopinklines.

CHAPTERFOUR

ila

ThekitcheniswarmasIbustleabout.Theheatmakesmeabitdizzy,butIignoreit.TheonlysideeffectI

getfrompregnancyissensitivitytoheat.

Ishovemydamphairbackfrommybrow,andclosetheovendoorwithmyfoot.

“That’stalent,”Williamsaysfromthedoorway,laughing.

Iglanceup,andPax’sgrandfatherenterstheroom,andheseemssooutofplaceinhereinhisformal

suit.Itdoesn’tmatterhowcasualtheoccasion,WilliamAlexanderalwayswearsasuitandtie,

distinguishedandformal.

“Notreally,”Itellhim,smiling.“It’sanecessity.WithZuzurunningaround,I’vegottomulti-task.”

Williamsmiles.“SheremindsmeofPaxwhenhewassmall,”hesays.“Exceptforherblondehair,of

course.Shegetsthatfromhermother.”

“Yes.Andmysister,”Iacknowledge.“Butherenergy…that’sallPax.”

“IsthereanythingIcandotohelp?”Williamasks,andheleansagainstthegranite.Hishandis

slender,almostskinny,withblueveinsthatstandoutinthelight.

“No,thankyou,”Ianswer.“Idon’twantyoutogetdirty.”

Hechuckles.“Youdon’tthinkI’vebeeninsideakitchenbefore.”

Ipause.“Haveyou?”

Hechucklesagain.

“Alongtimeago.”Helooksintothedistance.“Butit’sbeenyears.”

Heseemsmelancholysomehow,aslightsadnessperchedonhismouth.Williamisformal,buthe’s

alwayseven-keeled,andnevershowsmuchemotion.He’sabusinessmanthroughandthrough,withan

amazingpoker-facethathasclosedathousanddeals.Buttonight,there’ssomethingdifferent.Something

almostsad.

“Well,youcanputtherollsintoabasket,ifyou’dlike,”Ioffer,andheactuallyseemsrelieved.He

movesquickly,usingtongstopickupthebrownedbitsofdough.

“How’sPaxfeeling?”heasksashecountstherollsandarrangesthem.

“He’sinpain,”Ianswer.“Buthe’ssolucky.Idon’tthinkherealizesthathecould’vedied.”

Thethoughtalmostparalyzesme.TheideathatIwouldhavetocontinuelifewithoutmyhusband.It

makesmyhandsclammy.

Williamnods.“Thatthoughtcrossedmymindwhenyoucalled.Ispenttheentirenightprayingfor

him.”

“Praying?”Iliftaneyebrow.Williamhasn’tbeenreligious,notsincePax’smotherwasmurdered.He

alwayssaidhefeltlikeakindandjustGodwouldn’thaveallowedsuchathingtohappen.Heshrugs

now.

“Ifigureditcouldn’thurt.Andlook…Paxisfine.Sosomethingworked.”

“Yes,somethingdid,”Iagree.Unconsciously,Ifingermynecklace.Paxhaditcustommadeformeas

aweddinggift.It’sinscribedLOVENEVERFAILSandtherehasn’tbeenasingledaythathaspassedthat

Ihaven’twornit.Itmatchesmymother’sringonmyfinger.

Williamlooksupatme.“Whenareyoudue?”

I’mstartledandmyheadsnapsback.Helaughs.

“Mila,youaretheonlywomanI’veevermetwhoactuallyglowsduringpregnancy.Youlookradiant,

mydear.”

Ishakemyheadandchucklealittle.

“Ijustfoundoutmyself,”Itellhim.“Ihaven’tevenhadachancetotellPaxyet.”

Williamsmiles.“Yoursecretissafewithme.ButI’mthrilled.Congratulations.Yourlittlefamilyisa

sourceofgreatjoyforme.”

Myheartwarmstobursting.“Thankyou.”

“Heyguys,”Paxgreetsusashecreepsintothekitchen.Hemovesslowly,carefully,andIknowhe’s

hurting.He’stryinghardnottoshowit,butthemanwashitbyacar.Obviously,he’sinpain.

Zutrailsbehindhim.

“Grandpa!”sheshrieks,andshelaunchesherselfatWilliam.Hesmilesandhugshertight,hishandin

hercurls.

“Zuzu-Bean,”hemurmurs.“GuesswhatIhaveforyou?”

“Isitcandy?”sheasks,hereyeswide.

Henods.“Likealways.Butnotuntilafterdinner.”

Shenodshappily,agreeing.“Thankyou,papa.”

PaxreachesouthisarmandsnakesitaroundWilliam’sshoulders,hugginghimlightly.

“Goodtoseeyou,oldman,”heguffaws.Williamgrins.Paxistheonlyoneontheplanetwhojokes

aroundwithhiminsuchanirreverentway,andWilliamloveseveryminuteofit.

“It’sgoodtoseeyou,son,”heanswers.“Youhanginginthere?”

“Hell,yeah,”Paxanswers.“IttakesmorethansomeSUVtotakemedown.”

Ishakemyheadandgrabthebowlofvegetables.“Ifyouguyscanbringtherolls,dinnerisready.”

Williampicksupthebasket,andeveryonefollowsmetothediningroom,aroomwerarelyuse

exceptforwhenWilliamishere.Wenormallygatheraroundthekitchentable.

“Sitatthehead,”WilliaminstructsPax.“Thisisyourhome.”

Paxtakeshisnormalseat,buthedoestellWilliam,“Thisisyourhome,too.”

Williamsmiles,andagain,heseemssosad.PaxandIexchangealook,butwedon’tsayanything.I’m

notsurewhattosay.PerhapsWilliamisjustbotheredbytheaccidentandwhat‘could’vebeen.’Lord

knows,Iam.

Wechit-chatoverdinner,aboutsmallthings.AlexanderHoldings,Zuzu’sswimminglessons,my

photography.Zuzubabbleshappily,andWilliamhasseconds.Henevertakeshissuitjacketoff,butthen

again,Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenhimwithoutit.

Afterdinner,hehelpsmecleanupwhilePaxtakesZuupstairs.

Hedriesacoupleofpots,thenturnstome.

“Thankyouformakingmygrandsonsohappy,younglady.”

I’mstartledbythis,andIsmile.“It’smypleasure.Really.”

“Thewayyoustuckbyhimwhenhewas…well,let’sjustsaywhenhewaslessthanpleasant.”

Ihavetolaughatthat.WhenPax’smemoriesofwhathehadenduredthatnightwithhismotherwhen

shewasmurderedhadre-emergedafewyearsago,hehascertainlybeen“lessthanpleasant.”Hehad

disappearedintoadarkabyssandIneverthoughthe’dcomeout.

Buthedid.

“Loveneverfails,”ItellWilliamsimply.“Paxtaughtmethat.”

“IwishI’dbeenthereforhim,”hisgrandfathersaysseriously,andnowIseethesourceofhis

sadness.“Allofthoseyears.”

“YouandPaulhadissuesaboutSusanna.Paxknowsthat.We’rebothjustgladthatthingsareresolved

now,andthateverythingisgood,”Iassurehim.“Paxlovesyou,William.Verymuch.”

Henods.“AndIlovehim.He’sreallydoingamazingthingsatAlexanderHoldings.Andhe’sa

wonderfulfather.”

“Iagree,”Itellhim.“He’sturnedoutverywell.Youshouldbeveryproud.”

“Oh,Iam,”heassuresme.“Iam.”

Hehugsme,andPaxhasn’tcomebackdownstairsyet.

“It’spossiblethathefellasleepwhilehewasreadingtoZu,”Itellhim.“Hedoesthatsometimes.”

“It’sok.Justpleasethankhimforme,forthisevening.I’mtired,andIhearmybedcallingtome.”

Ismileandhe’sgone.

Ihearthefrontdoorsclose,andIseethebrake-lightsonhiscardisappearintothenight.

IputhimoutofmymindasIturnoffthelights,andturnonthealarm,makingmywayupstairs.Iwake

Pax,whohadindeedfallenasleepinZu’spinkroom.Heclimbsintobedwithme,andwesnuggle

togetherforsleep.

Iwanttotellhimthatwe’rehavinganotherbaby.

I’mdyingtotellhim.

Butnowisnotthetime.It’slate,andwe’retired.He’sasleepwithinminutes,andI’mlefttryingto

thinkofareallycoolwaytotellhim.MaybeZuzucanmakehimacutevideo?OrIcanhaveacustom

shirtprinted?

I’mstillbrainstormingideaswhenthephoneringsanhourlater.

Igrabatit,becauseit’slate,andwhoiscalling?

“Hello?”Isaysoftly,eyingPax.Itdidn’twakehim.

“Hello,Mrs.Tate?”It’sanunfamiliarvoice,althoughsomethingaboutitseemslikeI’veheardit

before.“ThisisNatasha,Mr.Alexander’shousekeeper.”

Thissnapsmetoattention.She’snevercalledmebefore.

“Yes?”

“I’msosorrytotellyou…Mr.Alexandersufferedamassiveheartattacktonight.He’sgone.I’mso

sorry.”

I’mstunned,andwordswon’tcomeout,andwhentheydo,theyfeellikewood.

“Gone?”Myfingersarenumb.

“Yes.Hediedimmediately.Itwasveryquick.IsMr.Tatewithyou?”

“Ofcourse.He’s…”Ilookover.Pax’seyesareopennow,wideandhazel.Hestaresatme,waiting.

“He’srighthere.I’lltellhim.We’llberightthere.”

IhangupandPaxiswaitingformetoexplain,andtearswellupinmyeyes.

Hereachesforme,andheknowssomethingterriblehashappened.

“It’syourgrandfather…”

Thewordstumbleout,andhesucksinabreath,buthedoesn’treact.

Instead,heholdsmetight,strongforme,andstrokesmyhair.

“It’sok,”hemurmurs.“It’sok.”

CHAPTERFIVE

Realitystandsstillasmygrandfatherisloweredintotheground,hismahoganycasketgleaminginthe

dyingeveninglight.

Hisgraveisrightnexttomymother’s,nexttohermarbleweepingangelandtheheadstonethatreads

Shewalkedinbeauty,shesleepsinpeace.

Myfatherlooksup.“He’swithyourmothernow.He’satpeace.”Hisvoiceisgruff.

InodandMilasqueezesmyfingers.

It’sagray,rainyday,anditisfittingforthisfuneral.

Well-wishersshakemyhead,andhugMila,anditseemslikehourspassbeforethethreeofusare

finallyalone.

“Ihaveyourgrandfather’swill,”myfathersaysasweclimbintothefamilycar.

I’mstartledbythat,andjustasstartledthathewouldbringitupnow.IwinceasIclickmyseat-belt.

Thepainisstillbad.Afteraweek,Iwould’vethoughtitwouldfade.Ithasn’t.Infact,thepaininmyknee

hasgottenworse.

“Iknow.It’snotwhatyouwanttoheartoday,”myfatheradds,andthedriverclosesthedoor.

“Notreally,”Iadmit.“Butwhydoyouhavethewill?”

Myfatherisanattorney,butnotmygrandfather’sattorney.

“Hewantedmetohandlethis,”mydadshrugs.“Pax…Williamknewforsometimethattheendwas

close.Hehadmajorblockagesinhisheart,andtheywereinoperable.Hewantedmetotellyoudirectly

afterthefuneralaboutthetermsofhiswill.Hewantedyoutohavetimetothinkaboutit.”

Hehasmyattention,andIwaitforhimtocontinue.

“Goon.”

“Ithinkitgoeswithoutsayingthatyougeteverything.He’sgotsometrustssetupforcharitable

donations,butprettymucheverythingcomestoyou.Withacouplestipulations.”

“Whatarethey?”Milaasksandhereyesarered.Thepastcoupleofdayshaven’tbeeneasy.Shewas

closetoWilliam.Shelovedhim,andhelovedher.Wewereallhehad,andsheknewthat.Shedid

everythingshecouldtomakehimfeelincludedandloved.

Myfatherclearshisthroat.

“Youmustliveinhishomeforatleastfiveyears,andevenifyouchoosenottocontinuelivinginitat

thattime,youmustkeepitinthefamily.”

“Wow.”That’sallIcanthinkoftosay,becauseIdon’twanttoliveinmygrandfather’shome.It’stoo

big,toosterile.Almostlikeamuseum.Butit’swheremymothergrewup,andbecauseofthat,my

grandfatherhasneversoldit.It’sabeautifulestate,butit’sjustnothome.

“Andyoumustkeephiskeystaffonboardforatleastfiveyears.”

“Whodoesheconsiderkey?”Ican’thelpbutask,eventhoughI’mreadytostopdiscussingmy

grandfather’saffairssosoonafterhisburial.

“Hishousekeeper,Natasha.Hischiefbusinessadvisor,Peter.Andofcourse,Roger.”

“Fiveyears?”Milaasks,hereyesserious.“Butwhatiftheydosomethingegregious?Canhe

terminatethemthen?”

Dadnods.“Yeah.There’salistoftermsoutlined,completewiththingsthatwouldbeconsidered

acceptable.They’reagoodstaffthough.Hejustwantstomakesurethey’retakencareof,andhave

enoughtimetomoveoniftheywish.”

Inod.Mygrandfatherhasalwaysbeengoodtohisemployees.

“I’msorrytobringthisuprightnow,son,”myfatheradds.“Truly.ItwasjustWilliam’swishesthat

youweretoldimmediately.Thesizeoftheestatealoneisstaggering.You’llneedtothinkaboutthis.”

Idon’task,andhewaits,andthenhesighs.

“It’sworththreebilliondollars,Pax.”

“Holycats,”Milasucksinherbreath.“BillionwithaB?”

Myfathernods,andI’mnotsurprised.Mygrandfatherwasawizardatbusiness.

“Ok,”Isaysimply.“We’lldiscussit.DoIhaveatime-limittoadhereto?”

Dadnods.“Yeah.He’sgivenyouthirtydaystodecide.Ifyoudecidetorejectit,everythingwillgo

intoatrustforZuzu.”

“SoZuzuwouldgetsaddledwiththosesameterms?”Iaskwryly.“Iwouldn’tdothat.”

“Iknow.”

Mydadstaresoutthewindowandafterbarrentreespassandrainyskies,heturnsbacktome.“Your

grandfatherwasagoodman.”

“Iknow.”

Andhewas.Hewasformal,andsometimesstern.Hewasdignified,butlovinginhisownway.Even

now,he’stryingtolookoutformeinthebestwaysheknowshow.Intryingtodictatetheterms,hewas

tryingtogivehimselfpeaceofmindthatIwillcontinuemakinggooddecisions,andcontinuebeing

successfulinlife.

Ilovehimtoomuchtofaulthimforthat.

Whenwereachmyhome,myfatherclimbsoutofthecarfirst,andthenhelpsmeout.Hiseagleeyes

don’tmissthefactthatI’mmovingslow,orthatIflinchwhenthemusclesinmybackcontract,andmy

kneegivesalittlewitheverystepItake.

“Maybeyoushouldgobackandseeyourdoctor?”hesuggestsasweheadinside.

“Maybe,”Iacquiesce,andbothheandMiladoadouble-take.

“Itmustbebad,”mywifedecides.“I’llmakeanappointmentforyoufortomorrow.”

Inod,andZuzurunsintotheroomwithChelciecloseonherheels.

“Daddy,”sheshrieks,andMilacatchesherbeforesheplowsintome.

“Remember,daddyisfragile,”Milaremindsher,andIrollmyeyes.

“Again,I’llshowyoufragile,”Iremindhersoftly,forourearsonly.Zugrabsmylegsandholdson

andmyfatherpriesheroff,heftingherontohisback.

“Showgrampyyourroom,”hetellsher,gallopinglikeahorsedownthehall.PaulTatehasdefinitely

mellowedsincehavingagrandchild.

MilaandIstandaloneinthefoyerandherslenderfingersfindmine.

“Areyouok?”sheaskssoftly.Ithinkaboutthat.

Ithinkabouthowmygrandfatherhadwelcomedusintohislifewithopenarms,andhowhehad

insistedthatIworkinhisfamilybusiness…notbecauseheneededsomeone,butbecausehewantedmeto

stayclean,andhewantedmetohavesomethingpositivetofocuson.

Ithinkaboutthemanhewas,andhowmuchhehadaffectedmeinthefewyearsthatI’dknownhim.

“Yeah,”Isayfinally.“I’mhappyIhadachancetoknowhim.”

Milanodsandshesmiles,becauseshelikesthatanswer.

“Whatdoyouthinkabout…whatyourdadsaid?”sheasksandshe’shesitant.Iscanherface.She’sso

open,sotrusting.She’lldowhateverIwanttodo.Iknowthat.

Iplacemyhandonherflatbelly,myfingerssplayedout.

“I’mnotsurehishomeiswhereIwanttohaveababy,”Itellher,andmyvoiceishusky.Herhead

snapsup,hereyesmeetingmine.

“Howdidyouknow?”

“You’realreadystartingtowaddle,”Igrin.Shesmacksme.

“Seriously.Howdidyouknow?”

“Isawthepregnancytestinthetrash,babe.”

Ihughertight,andshesighsintomyarm.“Areyouhappy?”

“Hell,yeah,”Itellherhonestly.“Iloveputtingmybabiesinyou.”

Shegigglesatthat.“Ilovethatprocess,too.”

“Youfeelingok?”Iaskher.ShewasradiantwithZuzu.Shewasbarelysickaday…untilthevery

end,whenshehadalmostdiedfromadetachedplacenta.

“Ifeelgreat,”shesaysbrightly.“IwantedtotellyouwhenIfirstfoundout,butthen…well,Ididn’t

wantyoutorememberitasasadoccasion.”

“Idon’t,”Ianswer.“It’sthecircleoflife.Onedies,anotherisborn.Mygrandpawouldbehappy.”

Milanodsbecausesheknowsthat’strue.“Hewashappy.Heguesseditthatnightatdinner.Saidit

showedonmyface.Hereallylovedus,Pax.”

Aknotformsinmythroat.“Ilovedhim,too.”

Imove,andflinch.Milanarrowshereyesatme.

“Haveyoutakenyourpainmeds?”

Ishakemyhead.“Iforgot.”

“You’dbetterdoit.You’vebeenlimpingallday.”

Shit.I’dhopedshehadn’tnoticed.

“Yeah,Inoticed.”Sheraisesaneyebrow.

“Doyoureadmindsnow,too?”

Shegrins.“Onlyyours.”

Ishakemyheadandlimpawaytothekitchen,tograbmypills.Iswallowthemdown,andwithin

minutes,thepainisdulled.

I’madumbassforforgetting.

It’snotuntillaterintheeveningthatIrealizethatwhenI’mmedicated,Idon’tfeelmygriefasmuch.

It’slessstark,lessthrobbing.Iguessthepainmedsdullmythoughts,maybe.

Ireachforthepillbottleagainbeforebedtime.

CHAPTERSIX

oplacidlyagainstthenoiseandhaste.”Mywifetracesthewordsonmyside,aquotefromthe

poemDesiderata,asshehasahundredtimesbefore.Andasshehasjustasmanytimes,sheuttersthe

followingsentenceofthepoem,eventhoughit’snotinkedontomybody.“Andrememberwhatpeace

thereisinsilence.”

Ismileandopenmyeyes,themorningsunlightglintingacrossMila’snakedbody.Eventhoughher

bellyisstillflatnow,itwillswellsoonwithourchild.Isortoffuckingloveit.Ipalmit,myotherhand

strokingherback.She’sperfect.Slender,graceful.Mine.

“You’remypeace,”Itellherhonestly.

“Ibegtodiffer,”shearchesaneyebrow.“Yournameactuallymeanspeace.You’remine.”

“Well,I’myoursandyou’remine.Howaboutthat?”Iofferthecompromise,andshesnugglesintothe

crookofmyarm.

“Ok.”

“Didyougetmuchsleeplastnight?”Itrailmyfingersalongherarm.She’ssleepsensitive.Ifshe’s

upset,sleepeludesher.

“Nope.Butyoudid.Yousnoredintomyearallnight.”

Evenherscowliscute.

Inipathernose.

“Sorry.”

“No,you’renot.Butthat’sok.Youshouldn’thavetobemiserabletoo.”

“Iwanttobe,ifyouare,”Itellherseriously.Shegrinsatme.

“You’vegottenkindofsickening,PaxTate.”

“Iknow,”Iagree,andIdo.I’mashellofthemanIusedtobe,butI’mamuchbettermannow.Noone

woulddisagreewiththat.

“IwantedtogotoAngelBaythisweek,”Itellher.I’dkeptmybeach-housethere,theloftthat

overlooksLakeMichigan.It’swhereMilaandImet.It’sstillourrespitefromtheworld.Weretreatthere

wheneverourschedulesallow.

“

“Yeah,metoo,”shesays.“Butthere’snowayyoucanflyinyourcondition,Crash.”

Irollmyeyes.

“Maybeamortalmancouldn’t,butyouforgetwhoyou’respeakingto.”

She’stheonerollinghereyesnow.

“Uh-huh.We’llhavetogolaterintheyear.Rightnow,wehavetothinkaboutyourgrandfather’s

will.”

“Yeah.”Istareoutthewindow,atthewhitesky.“Idon’twanttoliveinhishouse,”Itellherhonestly.

“It’snotahome,it’samausoleum.Heevenstillhasmymother’sroomthere,preservedexactlylikeit

waswhensheleftforcollege.Itfreaksmeout.”

Milanods.“Yeah.Buthey,hedidn’tsaywecan’tchangethehouse,Pax.Wecanremodel.Wecan

makeitours.”

“Youwanttodothis?”Istareather.Sheshrugs.

“Babe,it’snotlikethat’sarealaquestion.Wekindofhaveto.Andit’sonlyforfiveyears.What’s

fiveyearsinthespanofalife?Notmuch.Andmaybewe’llenduplikingit.”

Isigh.“Idoubtit.Idon’tlikehavingstaffhangingaround.It’sweird.”

Shenods.“Idoagreewiththat.Butitiswhatitis,babe.We’llfigureitout.”

“You’rethebestwife,”Iannounce.Shenods.

“Yes.I’mgladyouknowit.”

“Ido.”

“I’llcallmyfather,”IsighasIrolloutofbed.Myshouldersthrobandmyribscontract,butIignore

it.

“Ok.AndI’llcallthedoctorforyou,”Milasays.Istarttoopenmymouth,butsheshutsmedown.

“Noarguments.”

“Fine.”

Ipickupthephoneandcallmyfather,andMiladisappearswithherphonedownthehall.

I’mintheshowerwhenMilacomesback.“Areyouhavingtroublebreathing?”sheshoutsoverthe

soundofthewater.Ishakemyhead.

“No.OnlywhenImove.”

“Ok.Thenthedoctorsaystogiveitafewmoredays.Hesaysthatthelevelofpainyou’rehavingis

normalforbrokenribs.”Sheturnstoleave,thenturnsbackdramatically.“Oh,bytheway,youdidn’ttell

meyouhavebrokenribs.”

Icringe.“Youweren’tsupposedtoknowthatpart.”

“Well,Idonow.Getdressed,Crash.Eatbreakfast,takeyourmedicine.”

Shestartstoleave,butIcallafterher.“Babe?”

Shepauses.“Yeah?”

“Icalledmyfather.You’dbettercallthemovers.”

Hershouldersclenchforjustaminute.Iknowhowmuchshelovesthishouse.Butshepurposely

relaxesherface,andsmiles.

“Great.I’lldoittoday.”

“Great.”

“Babe?”Shelooksatme.“Don’tdotoomuch,ok?Makesureyourest.”

Shepauses,thenlooksaway.“Thatwasafreakthing,Pax.Therewassomethingwrongwiththe

embryo.Itwon’thappenagain.”

Ihateremindingherthatshemiscarriedacoupleyearsago.Ithaddevastatedher,andithadcrushed

me.ButIneedhertopromisethatshe’lltakecareofherself.

“Iknow,”Iassureher.“Therewasnothingyoucould’vedone,babe.Ijustwantyoutopromiseme

thatyou’renotgoingtooverdoitnow.Themoverswillpack.Youjustpointatthingsforthem.”

Shegrimaces.“Ok.”

“Iknow.Itkillsyounottobeinthemixofthings.”Ilaughandsheswatsatme,thenremembersthat

I’minjured.Sheclaspsherhandoverhermouth.

“I’msorry,”sheexclaims.

“Youbarelytouchedme.Don’tworryaboutit.”

Butitdidhurt.Icanstillfeelherfingerprintsonmyribcage.Jesus,I’mpathetic.

Ilimpintothebedroomtochangemyclothes,andasIdo.Myphonerings.Thescreentellsmethat

it’smybrother-in-law.

“Hey,Gabe,”Ianswer,tryingtowiggleintoat-shirt.

“Hey,bro.Howyoufeeling?”

AsifI’mgoingtotellthebigex-Rangerthetruth,thatI’msoreashell.

“I’llmakeit,”Itellhim.

“Good.Maddywantsmetotakeyououttonightsothatshecanhangwiththegirls…domanicuresand

shit,Iguess.”

IknowMilawouldlikeit.Iknowshesurelycan’twaittotellMaddythebabynews.

“Ok,”Iagree.“Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”

“HowabouttheCrow’sNest?Seveno’clock?”

“I’llbethere.”

Mybodyscreamsatme,andIdecideI’dbettertakeafuckingnaptorestup.Imedicatemyselffirst,

thensleepforthreepeacefulhours.

“Don’tdoit,”Gabewarns,hisdarkeyebrowraised.Iexaminethefullshotglassofwhiskeyinfrontof

me.“Youhaven’thadanythingtodrinkinforever.Plus,you’reonpainmeds.You’regonnaregretitinthe

morning.”

He’sprobablyright,butI’msureashellnotgoingtoadmitit.

“Iamnotonetoshirkfromachallenge,”Iannounce,andtheroomisonlyslightlywobbly.Myleg

slipsoffthebar-stoolandIputitback,hopingGabedoesn’tnotice.

Hedoes.

Andhesmirks.

“Whatever,Tate,”hedrawls,knockingbackhisownshot.“It’seighttoeight.Arewegoingtomakeit

toten?”

“Whatarewecelebrating,again?”Iask,shootingthetequila,thenwipingmymouth.Thebittertaste

slidesdownmythroat,andit’salmostforeign.Idon’tdrinkmuchnowadays.

Gabegrins.“Yourupcomingnewbaby.”

“Oh,yeah,”Ipretendtoremember.“Mybaby.”

Herollshiseyes.

“Milaisgoingtokillmeforbringingyouhomedrunk,”hesays.“Ican’trememberthelasttimewe

didthis.”

“It’sbeentoolong,”Iagree.“It’sgood.Weneededit.”Plus,beingdrunk,itmakesmybodyhurtless.

Icanbarelyfeelitrightnow.That’sgottobeaplus.

Gabeishesitantthough,andglancesatmyemptyglass.“Yougood,though?”

Iknowwhatheisasking.Afewyearsago,Isliddeepintotheholeofusingalcoholanddrugsasa

wayofdealingwithlife.ButI’mnotinthatplacenow.Idealtwithmyshit,andwhileIdon’tusually

drinkanymore,I’moktocelebrateonceinawhile.

“I’mgood,”Iassurehim.“Trustme.”

“Okay.”Hisanswerissimpleandimmediate.HeandIhadn’tgottenoffonthebestoftermswhenhe

starteddatingmywife’ssister,mainlybecauseGabehadhisowndemonstofight.Buthe’dfoughtthem

andwon,andhe’sasgoodamanasI’veeverknown.

“Pool?”Igesturetowardtheemptytable,andweslideoffourbarstools.

Gabecocksaneyebrow.“Youupforthat,dude?”He’sdoubtful,andIknowifIweresober,itwould

hurttoodamnmuchtoplay.ButI’mnotsober.

“Biteme.”

“Twentybucks?”Gabeglancesatme,hisgiantbicepflexingashemoves.I’mprettysurehe’strying

tointimidateme.

“Sure.”Wegrabsticksandchalk,andGaberackstheballs.“Andwinnerbuysthenextround.”

“Ihopeyoubroughtyourwallet.”

WechuckletogetherandIbreak,andthegameison.

Hegoes,thenIgo,andwe’reneckinneck.

“Yousummabitch,”GabemuttersasIknockanotherintothebackpocket.Ilaugh.

“Youshouldknowbynownevertochallengeme,dude.”

Herollshiseyes.“Whatever.Ishitbiggerthanyou.”

“Charming.”

I’mthinkingofsomethingelsetosaywhenadisturbancecatchesmyeye.

Intheback,nexttothebathroomhallway,amanandawomanargue.It’sheatedandtheyareboth

pissed.Shewavesherarmsintheair,andhegrabsherwrist.

Ipause.Gabepauses.

Theguygetsintoherface,andthenshovesheragainstthewall.

GabeandImoveatthesametime,droppingoursticksonthepooltable.

Stridingacrosstheroom,wearestep-in-stepwitheachother.Gabedeftlygrabstheguyfrombehind

andhaulshimawayfromthegirl.

Istepinhisface.

“Pickonsomeoneyourownsize,”Itellhimfirmly.

Hescowls,andhe’sgotascaronearlobe.“Thisisn’tyourbusiness.”HewrenchesawayfromGabe.

“Getoffme.”

Hebacksupastep,butGabeisasolidwallandcatcheshim.Hestruggles,andhisgirlfriendpleads

withhim.

“Seth,juststop.Let’sgo.”

Iglanceather.“Iwouldn’tsuggestgoinganywherewithhim.”

Butsheglaresatme,andgrabshisarm.

“Youshouldmindyourownbusiness.”

Theystalkaway,andSethsendsmeadeathstareoverhisshoulderastheygo.

“That’sfuckedup,dude,”Gabesaysaswewatchthemwalkoutthedoor.

“Youcan’tsavesomepeople,”Iagree.“She’llhavetodecidewhenshe’sreadytostopbeing

abused.”

Gabeshakeshishead,andwefinishourgame.WhenIknocktheeight-ballintothebackpocketatthe

end,herollshiseyes,andholdsoutatwenty.

“Ialwayspayup.”

Igrinandsnatchitup.“Andyouowethisround.”

“Rubitin,”hemuttersasheheadstothebar.Hecomesbackafewminuteslaterwithourlastshots.

“Thismakesten,”heannounces.“We’regoingtofeelthistomorrow.”

Weslamtheshots,thunkingourglassesonthetableatthesametime.

IsquintmyeyesasIswallow,thenshakemyhead,likeI’mshakingthebadtasteaway.

“Damn,”Imutter.“Thisisgonnaleaveamark.”

Myheadfeelsthickandheavy,andIrememberwhyIlaidoffdrinking.Idon’tmuchlikethenumbing

effect.Notanymore.

“We’dbetternotdrive,”Gabesayswisely.Iagree.

“Yeah.”

“YoucallMila,”hesuggests.

Iscoff.“Fuckthat.YoucallMaddy.”

“Hellno,she’llkickmyass.”

“Well,Milawillkickmine,”Ianswer.“Besides,Zu’salreadyinbedasleep.Milacan’tleave.”

“Well,Eli’ssleepingtoo,”Gabereplies.“Andthebaby.Maddycan’tcome.”

“We’rebothp-whippedandscaredofourwives,”Ipointout.

“No,we’resmart,”Gabeargues.“I’llcallBrand.”

Hepullsouthisphone,dials,andsoon,he’stalkingtoBrandKillien,hisboyhoodbestfriendand

brother-in-law.

“Iknowit’slate,”hesighs.“I’msorry,dude.PleasetellNorawe’resorryforbotheringyouguys.”

Hehangsup.“He’llbehereintwenty.”

Inod,becauseIknewhewould,becauseBrandisthekindofguyisalwaystherewhenyouneedhim.

Healwayshasbeen,andalwayswillbe.GabeservedwithhimintheArmyandtheyarebothdecorated

soldiers.

Theydon’tleaveanotherinthefield,eveniftonight,the‘field’isadivebar.

Wewaitoutinthecoolair,breathingdeeply,aswewaitforBrandtoarrive.Soonenough,hisbig

pick-uppullsinthelot,andhiseyesarered.

“Youguyslooklikeshit,”hesayssleepily,andhisblondhairismussed.

“Gabetriedtokillme,”ItellhimasIclimbintothefrontseat.Gabeguffawsfromtheback.

“Whatever,Tate.Itwasyouridea.”

“You’rebothdumbasses,”Branddecidesashepullsoutoftheparkinglot.“AndmayGodhavemercy

onyoursoulswhenyourwivesseeyou.”

Thathonestlyshutsusbothup.Milawillkillme…mainlybecauseIskippedmyeveningdoseofpain

medsjustsoIcouldhaveadrinkwithGabe.

Thetruckisquiet,andthenafterawhile,Brandspeaks.

“I’msosorryaboutyourgrandfather,dude.IsthereanythingIcando?”

“Thankyou,”Ianswer,myforeheadrestingonthecoolwindow.God,thecoldfeelsgoodonmyface.

“No,there’snothinganyonecando.Butthankyouforoffering.”

“Anytime,”heanswers.“Anything.Youknowthat.”

“Ido,”Iagree.“You’reagoodman,Brand.”

Idon’thearhisreplybecauseIpassoutslumpedagainstthedoor.ThenextthingIknow,Brandis

carefullyheftingmeoutofthetruck.

“Carefulwithhisribs,”Gabecallsfromthebackseat.He’ssplayedontheseat,hisarmthrownover

hiseyes.Itgivesmesatisfactiontoknowthathe’snotinanybetterconditionthanIam.

“Ican’tfeelthemrightnow,”IassureBrand.

“Ibetyoucan’t,”hegrins.Hewalkswithmetothebackdoor.“Yougoodfromhere?”

“Ofcoursh,”Islur.Hecocksaneyebrow.Itryagain.“Ofcoursh.”

Heshakeshishead.“Night,dude.Sleepitoff.”

Icreepthroughthehouse,butIrealizeI’mnotcreepingwhenIslammyfootintoanottomaninthe

livingroom.

“Summabitch,”Icurseatit.

“Pax?”Milastandsinthedoorwayinoneofmyt-shirts.“Areyouok?”

“Yeah,babe,”Iassureher.“I’msorrytowakeyouup.”

Sheeyesme.“Ohlord.YouandGabedidanumberonyourselves.”

Istarttoapologize,butsheholdsupahand.“Lordknows,youneededtoblowoffsomesteam.Let’s

getyoutobed.Doyoufeellikethrowingupyet?”

Ishakemyhead.“Nah.Idon’tthrowup.”

Iam,ofcourse,vomitingwithinthehour.Imakeittothebedroom,andIretchintothetoilet,andby

now,Icanfeelmyribsagain.ThepainisexcruciatingeverytimeIheave.

“Fuck.”Iwipeoffmymouth,thenbrushmyteethbeforeIheadbacktobed.

Somethingbothersme,butIcan’tputmyfingeronit.Something,somethingnigglesatme.ButIputit

outofmymindandfallbacktosleep.

Whiskeymakessleeprestless,though.Iwakeagainafewhourslater,whenitisstilldarkoutside.

There’sagnawingfeelinginmygutandIthinkonitforaminute.

It’sfamiliar,andmymindisfuzzy.

Iwakeupenoughtofocus.

It’sahunger,butI’mnothungry.

There’sanacheinmybody,aneedforsomething,somethingblack,somethinghateful.Inmysleep,I

hadtasteditinmymouth,thebitternessofcocaine,thesweetnessofheroine,andIswallowhard.My

handshakes,andIsweartoGodit’sonmytongue,smearedonmyteeth,causingmyhearttopoundoutof

mychest.

Onlyit’snot.

Itwasadream.

Forthefirsttimeinyears,I’mdreamingaboutdrugs.

Sonofabitch.

Theknowledgeslamsintome,hardandfast.

Isitupandgrabmywaterglassfromthenightstand,gulpingthefreshliquiddown,tryingtodrownout

theremnantsofatasteIhaven’thadinsolong.

Whatthefuckiswrongwithme?

WhywouldIbecravingthatshitnow?

“Pax?”

Mila’svoiceissmallandclearinthedark,likeabell,andshereachesforme.“Youok?”

“Yeah,babe,”Ilie.Ican’ttellherwhatI’mcraving.She’dbedevastatedandworried,andshe

doesn’tneedthat.It’sthefirstsecretI’vekeptfromher.It’snotsomethingItakelightly.

“Holdme.”Milasnugglesupagainstme,herbodyslightandsoft.Herarmreachesaroundandpulls

meback,intothebed,nexttoher.

Herwarmth,hersmell…it’sfamiliar.It’smine.

ThisiswhereIbelong.

NotintheoblivionIoncecraved.

Iclosemyeyes,andtheblacknessisthere,behindmyeyelids,andonceuponatime,Iwouldhave

disappearedinitgladly.Tonight,though,Ithinkaboutmywife.Ithinkaboutmydaughter.Ithinkaboutthe

lifeinMila’sbelly.Ithinkofsunshine.Idon’tknowwhenIfinallyfallbacktosleep.

AllIknowisthatIdo.

CHAPTERSEVEN

ila

TheMansion,asPaxandIcallit,isfloodedwithmovers.

“Wherewouldyoulikethis,m’am?”oneasksme.He’sholdingaboxclearlymarked“Nightstand.”

“Inthemasterbedroom,”Itellhimpatiently.Istarttopickupabox,butPaxiswalkingthroughthe

doorandheeyesme.Istandbackup,myhandsempty.

“Ican’tbelievetheywereabletorenovatethemasterinjustamonth,”Isaytodiverthisattention.

“It’sincredible.”

“Well,itwasmygrandfather’sforfiftyyears.Itneededafacelift,”heanswers.Hepullsmetohim.“I

paidthemextratohaveitdoneintimeforyou.”

Ikisshimsoftly.

“We’regoingtobeokhere,”Iassurehim.“Idon’twantyoutoworry.Whereveryouare,it’shome.”

“You’rejusttryingtodistractmefromlecturingyouaboutresting,”hetellsme.

“Ihatethatyouknowmesowell.”

Hechuckles.“Ha.Getusedtoit.”

“Areyougoingtowork?”

Henods.He’dbeenoffforacoupleofweekstorecover,butnowthathe’shealingup,he’sbackinthe

swingofthings.“Yeah.Roger’sprobablywaitingoutsiderightnow.”

“Ok.Haveagreatday.Hopefullyalotwillbedonebythetimeyougethome.”

“Notbyyouthough,”hesayssternly.

“Ok.Notbyme.”

He’soutthedoorbeforeIknowit,andI’maloneagainwiththemovers.MaddytookZuzufora

playdatewithEli,soIcanactuallyrestforaminute.

Idropintoachairintheformallivingroom,andputmyfeetuponthegleamingcoffeetableinfrontof

me.

“M’am,thatisanantique,”avoicesaystome.

Iturnmyheadtofindthehousekeeper,Natasha,inthedoorway.She’stroubled,Icantell,bymy

disregardfortheformalfurniture.

“Iknow,”Itellhergently.“Butmyhomeistobelivedin,notlookedat.”

Shemovesacrosstheroom,andIfindmyselfwondering,onceagain,whysuchayoungwomanwould

wanttobeahousekeeperforanelderlymanlikeWilliam.She’saroundthirty,slender,prettywithlong

caramelhairthatshekeepstwistedintoabun.

“Wouldyoulikesomechamomiletea?”sheasks.“Youseemstressed.”

“Iamstressed,”Iadmit.“Movingdoesthattoaperson.”

Natashanodssympathetically.“Mr.Tateinstructedmetowatchoutforyou.”

“Youmean,superviseme?”Iaskdubiously.Shesmiles,andshehasanicesmile.Itseemssincere.

“Maybe,”sheadmits.“Hedoesn’twantyoutooverdoit.”

“I’monlyelevenweekspregnant,”Itellher.“I’mfine.Butifheasks,tellhimIrestedallday.”

“ShouldImakeyousomebreakfast?”sheasks.“Icanbringyousomeeggsandfruit,ifyoulike?”

“Thatwouldbelovely,”Ianswer.“Thankyou.”

IagreewithPax.Idon’tlikehavingpeoplehoveringabout,buthavingsomeonecookmebreakfast

doesn’tsuck.NatashadisappearsintothemassivehouseandIclosemyeyes.Thefirsttrimesteris

exhausting.

Lasttime,I’dmiscarriedatthirteenweeks.

IhaveitinmyheadthatifIcanjustgetpastthatmilestone,allwillbewellthistime.It’sprobablynot

rational,butit’showIthink.

Amoverpopshisheadin.“Miss?Ihaveartsupplies.WhereshouldIputthem?”

“Theloftabovethegarage,”Itellhim.Paxisturningitintoastudioforme,onlyit’snotfinishedyet.

Itwilloverlookthepondbehindthehouse,whichshouldberelaxing.

Hey,youresting?Paxtextsme.

Ishakemyhead.Yes.Andthankyouforputtingaspyonmytail.

Hahaha.Ihavetokeepyouinlinesomehow.

Whatever.

I’llbringyouhomeaburritofromElLoco’s.

Iloveyou,Ianswerimmediately.

Iknowthewaytoapreggo’sheart.

Ismile.I’msolucky.

Evennow,asIlookaroundthegiantformalroomwithcathedralceilingsandwoodenwalls,Iknow

thateventhoughIdon’tlovethishouse,theopportunitiesavailabletousaresuchablessing.

Icanmakethishousemyown,Idecide,asNatashacomesbackinwithatray.

“I’mgoingtobemakingafewchanges,”Itellherasshearrangesitontheside-table.

“Oh?”sheaskscasually.

“Yes.Iwanttomakeithomierhere.Sowefeelmore…well,athome.”

“That’sunderstandable,”sheanswers.“Wherewouldyouliketostart?”

“Well,I’llhavethedesignerwhoisdoingmystudiocometalktomeaboutit.”

Natashanods.“Wouldyoulikeanythingelse?”

Ishakemyhead.“Thisisperfect.Thankyou.”

“I’llbebackforyourtrayabitlater,”shetellsmebeforesheleavesagain.

IsighasaItakeabiteofjuicymelon.No,havingNatashaheredoesn’tsuck.

Whensheleaves,IrealizethatIdon’tevenknowifsheliveshere,oroffthepremises.Thishouseis

reallythatbig.

Isigh,asIthinkabouteverythingI’llhavetolearn.

It’sok,though.

Thisisablessing,Iremindmyself.Ablessing.

Soisthebabyinmybelly.

Ilaymyhandonmyabdomen,andimaginethelifethatliveswithin.Willitbeaboywholookslike

Pax?Oragirlwholookslikeme?Idon’twanttotellZuzuuntilI’mfurtheralong.Notwithmytrack

record.

ButMaddythough…Icantellmysister.

AndIdo…whenshebringsZuzuhomelaterintheday.

EliandZuarerunningthroughtheemptycorridors,andMaddysitsnexttomeonthecouch.

“Spillit,”shesays,examiningme.“Youwanttotellmesomething.”

Istareather,dumbfounded.“Howdoyoualwaysknow?”

Shelaughs,pushingherblondhairbackwithamanicuredhand.“Iknowyou,Mi.Youknowthat.”

Itakeabreath.

“Ok.Well,I’mpregnant.”

Maddystaresatmeforasecondbeforesheshrieksandlaunchesherselfatme,wrappingherself

aroundmyneck.Hergripislikeavise,andit’sactuallyhardtobreathe.

“ShouldIcallforsecurity,m’am?”Natashasayswrylyasshecomesintogetmytray.Igrimace.

“Maybe.”

Maddyswatsatme.“Biteyourtongue.Whenareyoudue?”

“I’melevenweeks,”Ianswer.“SoI’mbeingcautious.Don’ttellanyone,Mad.Imeanit.Youknow

whathappenedlasttime.”

Shegrabsmyhand.“Youknowthatmiscarriageshappen,sweetie.Itwillbeokthistime.Ifeelit.Pax

knows,right?”

Inod.“Ofcourse.AndNatasha,andWilliamknewbeforehepassed.That’sit.”

“Doyouneedanythingelse,Mrs.Tate?”Natashawaits.Ishakemyhead.

“No,thankyou.”Sheturns,andIspeakagain.“Wait.Doyoulivehere?”

Shetwistsbackaround.“M’am?”

Ifeelsilly.“Imean,doyouliveinthishouse?”

Shesmiles.“Yes.Ihavearoomoffofthekitchen.”

Shedisappears,andMaddyturnstome.“Doyoureallyhavesecurity?”

Ilaugh,andliftmyteacup.“No.”Itakeadrink.“Idon’tthinksoanyway.”

Sherollshereyes,andit’sjustherandme…meandmysister,andthisgianthousesuddenlydoesn’t

seemsobad.Icanhearthekids’laughterechoingfromsomewheredownthehall,playinghideandseek,

andit’sallgoingtobeok.

Ifeelit.

Maddyvisitsforoveranhour,onlyleavingwhenthebabystartstogetcranky.Itdoesn’tescapemy

attentionthatshedoesn’tleaveuntilit’salmosttimeforPaxtobehome.They’reclearlytakingturns

sittingwithme.

Ifreshenup,andandamwaitingformyhusbandwhenhecomesthroughthedoor.

“Hey,babe,hegreetsme.Hissuitfitshimperfectly,althoughhehasloosenedhistie.I’mprettysure

it’sthefirstthinghedoeswhenhewalksouttheofficedoor.“Howwasyourday?Didyourest?”

“Yep,”Itellhimhonestly.“Maddyvisited,thekidsplayed.Itwasgood.”

“Good,”heanswers,andpullsmetohim.“Gimmesomeofthat.”

Ismileagainsthislips,andhekissesmehard.“Imissedyoutoday,”headmits,andhegripsmybuttin

onehand.

“Good,”Igrin.

“Isitbedtimeyet?”hegrowlsintomyneck.Ismile.

“Notyet.”

Hereleasesme.“Fine.Playhardtoget.You’llgetyours.”

Ilaugh,andweplaywithZuforawhileafterPaxchangesclothes.Honestly,Ilikehimbetterinjeans

andat-shirt.Asuitjustisn’thim,evenifhedoeswearsitwell.

Atdinnertime,wesitinthediningroom,andthetableissolong.Thereisroomfortwentyatit,and

thewoodgleamsinthecandle-light.

Zuzustaresatmefromacrossthetable.

“Mama,ournewhouseisbig.”

Paxchucklesathertroubledexpression.“Isthataproblem,Zu?”

Sheshakesherhead.“No,daddy.Ijust…Ijust…canIhaveapuppynow?”

“Youlittleopportunist,”Paxsmiles.“We’llsee.”

“Youshouldn’tbetoosurprised,”Itellhim.“She’syourdaughter,throughandthrough.”

Hegrinsatmeoverhiswaterglass.

Afterdinner,wehaveourdessertinthemainfamilyroom.Natashaseemstroubledasshebringsus

thetraywiththreepieplates.

“Mr.Alexanderneverateinhere,”shetellsus.“ThisrugwasshippedfromTurkey.It’svery

expensive.”

Pax’sheadsnapsup,andhetakesaplatefromher.

“Natasha,IassumeyouknowaboutMr.Alexander’swill…howwehavetoemployyouforfive

years?”

Natashastandsupstraight.“Yes,sir.”

“Thatdoesn’tentailyoutellingmeormywifewhattodo.Thatisn’tinyourjobdescription.Idon’t

knowhowyourrelationshipwithmygrandfatherwent,butourrelationshipwithyouwillnotbethat

way.”

Natashalookssheepish,andIalmostfeelsorryforher,eventhoughherattitudealldayhasbeen

annoying.

“Thisisourhomenow,”Paxcontinues.“Wewilltreatitasahome,notamuseum.I’llthankyoutonot

makeusfeeluncomfortableaboutthat.”

Natashanodsreluctantly.“Yes,sir.”

Shestartstoleave.

“Youwillbeemployedhereforfiveyears,”Paxtellsher.“Butwearen’trequiredtokeepyouinyour

currentposition.”

Natashafreezes,hershoulderstight.Sheturns.

“Sir?”

“Youarethehousekeeper.YoudonottellmywifeandIhowtolive.Ifyoudo,we’llfindanother

positionforyou.”

“Yes,sir.I’msorry.”

Paxrelaxes.“Idon’tmeantosoundharsh,Natasha.Butmyfirstpriorityismywife.Idon’twanther

tofeeluncomfortablehere.She’sgivenupalottobewithme.”

Istartle.“Pax,”Istarttosay.Heglancesatme.

“Youhave,”hetellsme.“Youdidn’twanttocomehere.Iknowthat.Butyoudiditbecauseyoulove

me.Thisisyourhome.Dowhatyouwantwithit.Ifyouwanttoburneverydamnpieceoffurnitureinit

andstartover,youcan.”

NatashagaspsandIrushtoreassureher.

“I’mnotburningthings,Natasha.Infact,ifIdecideIdon’twantsomething,I’llofferittoyou.”

Sheexhales.“Thankyou,m’am,althoughyoudon’thavetodothat.”

“Youcareaboutthishouse,”Ipointout.“That’scommendable.Thankyou.”

Shenodsandshe’sgoneandIstareatmyhusband.

“Holyshit,Pax.”

Heshrugs.“Itneededtobesaid.”

Ishakemyheadandsnuggleintomyhusband’sshoulder.“Iloveyou.”

Heglancesdownatme.“Iknow.”

WewatchZuzuinhaleherpieanddancearoundtheroom,spinningandtwirling,becauseit’sasbigas

agymnasium.

“ShouldIputhertobed?”Paxasksme.“It’sgettinglate.”

He’shopeful,andIknowwhy.Igrin.

“Yeah.Let’sdoitonourwaytobed.”

Shedoesdownsurprisinglyfast,andsnugglesintoherbed.HerswasthefirstroomIhadrepainted.It

isapaleblueinherenow,herfavoritecolorandit’sverysoothing.Tomorrow,I’mpaintingivyvines

twistingaroundherwalls.Iwanttoturnitintoa“secretgarden”themedroom.She’llloveit.

Ourmastersuiteisrightdownthehall,throughasetofdoubledoors.

Itwasrecentlystrippedofwall-paperandrepaintedbone-white.It’sgotairycurtains,floortoceiling,

andwehaveanewbed.It’samassivewoodenpieceanditfacesalargefireplace.

Classic,slightlymasculine.IwantPaxtobeabletounwindinhere.

Afterwebrushourteethandsettleintobed,Icuddleagainstmyhusband.

“Ilovethatyoustillsleepnaked,”hemurmursintomyear.Herunshislargehandovermyhip,upmy

ribcage.Hisfingersarecareful,likeI’mmadeofglass.

“Lord,Iwanttobeinyou,”hesays,hisvoicehusky.

Iturn,pressingintohim.“Sobeinme.”

Hegroans.“No.Iwanttowait.Untilafterthefirsttrimester.”

Istartle,eventhoughthat’sonlyaweekaway.

“Youthinkyou’llhurtme?”

“Idon’twanttotakeanychances,”hesaysandhe’salmostsheepish.“Iwantyou,Mi.Don’tdoubt

that.”

He’srockhardagainstmyleg,soIdon’tquestionhisdesire.

“Fine,”Isayfinally.“Youdon’thavetobeinme.However…youcan’ttellmewhattodo,so….”

Iclimbupandoverhim,kneeling,andtakehiminmymouth.

“Sonofabitch,”hebleats,andhetriestopullmeoff.“That’snotfairtoyou,Mi.Youdon’thaveto.”

Ipause.“Iwantto.Iloveyou,Pax.”

Islidehiminandout,myfingersaroundhisballs,clenchingsoftly,thenwithmorepressure.My

husband’sbreathinghitches,andhitches.

“Jesus,”hefinallymanagestosay,andhisgraspistightonmyass.“I’mgonnacum,babe.”

Hepullsawayfrommeandcomesonhisownbelly,andhisheaddropsbackonthepillow.

“You’regoingtobethedeathofme,”hesaysweakly.

Igrin.

“There’snobetterwaytogo,”Ioffer.

Hegrins,hiseyesstillclosed.“True.”

Hecleansupwithatissue,andwesettleinforsleep.Hedriftsoffwithinminutes,butI’mawakea

longtime.

Thishouseisold,andthenoisesitmakesarenewtome.Itwilltakemeawhiletogetusedtothem,to

knowwhatisnormalandwhatisnot.

Ilaymyhandonmybelly.Inacoupleofweeks,Ishouldbeabletofeelthebabymove.Ismileatthat,

andI’malmost…almost…asleepwhenPaxmoansnexttome.

Hewrithesandturnsandmoans,andthenfinally,hewakesupwithaloudyelp,sittingstraightupin

bed.

“Babe?”Iask,strokinghisback.“You’reok.You’reok.Wasitanightmare?”

He’srubbinghiskneeabsentlyandhenods.“Yeah.Iguessitwas.”

“Doesyourkneehurt?”He’sbeenlimpingfromtimetotime,andit’sworriedme.

“Alittle.It’snothingtoworryabout.”

Idoworrythough,andheknowsit.Heopenshisarmstome,andIsettleinagainsthim,listeningto

hisstrongheartbeatuntilIfinallyfallasleep.

CHAPTEREIGHT

SweetJesus,thepain.

Mykneesendsspiralsofvise-likepainupintomyleg,andit’senoughtotakemybreathaway.

I’dgonetothedoctortoday,andheardtheverdict.Ineedknee-surgery.Theligamentsandtendons

aroundmykneeweretornbadlyintheaccident,frayedbeyondtheabilitytomendthemselves.ButI’mnot

puttingMilathroughthestressofthat.Notuntilaftershe’spastthepointofpossiblemiscarriage.

I’lldealwiththepainforacouplemoreweeks.I’mnopussy.

Ilaystilluntilherbreathingisdeepandeven,andshebeginssnoringinhercutelittlesnorts.Ismile

inthedark,andthencarefully,carefully,easeoutofherembrace.Shestirsalittle,andIfreezeonthe

edgeofthebed.Shesettlesbackinwithoutwakingup.Inhersleep,shereachesoutforme,andIpushmy

pillowtowardher.Shegrabsitandpullsittoherchest.Ismileandslipoutoftheroom.

IfeellikeawoundedsoldierasIlimpdownthelonghalltowardmystudyandswitchonalamp.

Oncemygrandfather’s,itisahugeroomwithamassivefireplaceandwood-paneledwalls.It’sa

gentleman’sroom,andtheironyasIsitbehindthedeskisnotlostonme.

I’mnogentleman.Atleast,notthekindthisroomwasintendedfor.

Thisroomwasbuiltbackwhenmenretiredafterdinnerwithscotchandcigarswhilethewomen

huddledtogetheranddidcross-stich.

That’ssonotMilaandme.

Istretchmylegoutandrubattheknee.

Rubbingitdoesn’thelpmuch,butitmakesmethinkI’mdoingsomethingforit.

“Mr.Tate?”

IlookuptofindNatashainthedoorway,cladinafloor-lengthrobe.

“Iseverythingok?Isawyourlight.”

Herhairisdownnow,anditmakesherseemlessstern,moreherage.

“Everythingisfine,”Iassureher.“Icouldn’tsleep.”

Sheglancesatmyhandrubbingmyknee.“CanIgetyourpainpillsforyou?”

I’vebeentryingnottotakethem,butLord.Painispain.

“Ok.Thankyou.”

Shedisappears,andcomesbackinafewminuteswithaglassofwaterandtwopills.

ShepoursthemintomyhandandwatchesmeasIknockthemback.

“Acknowledgingpainisn’taweakness,”shetellsmequietly.

“Iknowthat,”Isay,moresharplythanIintended.“Sorry.”

“Doyou,though?”shewonders.“BecauseIseeyoutryingtohideit.”

“Mywifehasenoughtoworryabout,”Isaystiffly.“Shedoesn’tneedtoworryaboutthis,too.”

Natashastaresatmedoubtfully.“I’mprettysureshe’dwanttoknow.”

Iknowshewould.Butit’snotwhatisbestforher.Notyet.

“Youdon’tunderstand,”Isay,andIdon’tknowwhyI’mexplaining.“Milahadamiscarriagelast

time.Ijustwanttokeepherstress-freeforthenextcoupleofweeksuntilshe’soutofthedanger.Most

peoplemiscarryinthefirsttwelveweeks,ifthey’regoingtomiscarry.”

“You’resweettoworry,”Natashasaysfinally.“I’llhelpyouhoweveryouwantmetohelp.”

Ididn’taskhertohelp.

“Ifyoucanjustmakesuresherests,”Itellher.“WhenI’matwork.Shehasatendencytodotoo

much.”

Natashanods.“Ofcourse.”

“Thankyou.”

“Anythingelse?”

Ishakemyhead.“No,thankyou.”

“Verywell.I’llkeepthisbetweenus.”

Ididn’taskherto.

“Asyouwish.”

Shenodsandshe’sgone.

I’maloneagaininmystudy,andthepainpillshavebeguntokickin.They’retakingtheedgeoff,at

least.Icanbreathearoundthepainnow.

Iansweracoupleofe-mails,waitingtoseeifIgetevenmorereliefastimepasses.Idon’t.

Withasigh,Ieyemygrandfather’sbarontheothersideoftheroom.Athrow-backtotimeslost,it’sa

full-bar.

Withoutgivingmyselfamomenttosecond-guess,Icrosstheroom,pouracouplefingersofscotch,

andgulpitdown.

Thatshouldhelp.

Anditdoes.Withinminutes,thepainhasdulled.Hopefully,enoughtosleep.Imakemywayquietly

backtomybedroom,slipinnexttoMila,anddriftofftosleep.

“Mr.Tate,yourtwoo’clockishere.”

Sasha’svoiceisloudonmyphone’sintercom.Itsnapsmeawake,becauseI’dalmostdozedoff.

Sleepingonlyacoupleofhoursbecauseofpainsucksballs.

“Thankyou,Sasha,”Ianswer,punchingatthebutton.“Sendthemin.”

Idon’tevenknowwhomytwoo’clockis.That’showdim-wittedIfeeltoday.Irubatmyeyes,and

thenrubatmyknee.

I’mafuckingmess.

“Dude,youlooklikeshit.”

Gabestridesin,withBrandonhisheels.Theyarebothdressedinslacksandbutton-upshirts.

“You’remytwoo’clock?”Irollmyeyesandstandup.“Ithoughtitwasarealmeeting.”

Gabestaresatmeindignantly.“Wearearealmeeting.Wehavefourthquarterprofitandloss

statementstogooverwithyou.”

“Snore,”Itellhim.

“Whydoyoulooklikeshit?”Brandasksmecuriously,ashesetshisbriefcasedownonmy

conferencetableinthecorner.

“Ididn’trealizethatIdo.”

“Youdo,”heassuresme.

“Youstillhurtin’?”Gabeasks,hisbrowfurrowed.“I’vegotthenameofadamngoodPTifyouwant

it.Hecangetyoustraightenedout.”

Isigh.“Iapparentlyneedsurgeryonmyknee.Iblewitout.ButIdon’twanttoforacoupleofweeks.

Idon’twanttoupsetMila.”

Gabeliftsaneyebrow.“MilaisthemostunflappablepersonIknow.”

“She’spregnant,”Itellthem.“Idon’twanttostressherout.”

“Dude,”Brandexclaims.“Congratulations!”Theybothslapmeontheback,andIcringebecausethat

painricochetsdownintomyhips,straightintomyknee.Igritmyteethandhideitthough.DamnedifI’ll

showmypaintothesetwo.

“Thanks,”Isayinstead.

“Ok.Well,howaboutthis.Wemademoneyinthefourthquarter,”Gabesays.“Alotofit.Wecansend

thespecificstoPeter,ifyouwant.Buttonight,let’sgocelebrate.Cancelyourafternoon.”

PeteristhebusinessadvisorIinheritedfrommygrandfather.I’llgladlyrelegatepaperworktohim.

Ieyemycalendar.There’snothingonitfortherestoftheday.

“Fine,”Itellthem.“I’vegottilfiveo’clock.”

“That’sallweneed,”Brandtellsme.

Wewalkoutofmyoffice,andSashascramblesup.“I’llhaveyourcarwaitingforyou,”shecallsafter

me.

Gabestopsinhistracks.“Yourcar?Asin,acarthatyoudon’tdriveyourself?”

“Noneed,”ItellSasha.“I’llridewiththeseyay-whos.”

TheycontinuetoribmeallthewaytoBrand’struck.

“Seriously.You’retooimportanttodrivenow?”Gabeasksasweclimbin.“You’vegottabekidding,

bro.”

“Ilovetodrive,”Iargue,andIwistfullythinkofmybeloved’69Chargersittinginmygarageat

home,coveredwithatarp.“Mygrandfatherjustlikedtheideaofbeingdriven.Hethoughtitwasagood

imagefortheemployeestosee.”

“Well,guesswhat?”GabetellsmeasBrandfiresuphistruck.“You’rethebossnow.”

“That’sverytrue.”Idon’ttellthemthatatthemoment,Idon’tthinkmyrightkneewouldbeableto

taketheworkingsofthepedals.

IstarttotextMila,toletherknowI’llbeoutoftheofficeforafewhours,butmyphoneisdead.

“Shit.Ireallyhavetobehomeontime.”

Gaberollshiseyes.“Dude,we’rehavingadrink.NotkidnappingyoutoTijuana.”

IknowIshouldjustgohome.Buttheideaofdullingthepainalittleisappealing.Andseriously…

whatcouldhappen?I’mwithGabeandBrand.Idon’tknowwhyI’mhesitant.

WhenIclimboutofthetruckatthepub,mykneealmostgivesout.Brandgrabsmyarm,catchingme

fromcollapsingontothepavement.

“Dude,thisisn’tgood.”He’sconcerned.“Idon’tthinkyoushouldbebearingweightonthat.”

Ishouldn’tbe.Thedoctortoldmeasmuch.

“I’llbefine,”Iassurehim.

AfterIlimpinsideandgetsituatedinabooth,Ipropmyfootonanearbychair.Idon’tintendon

leavingthisspot.

Isignalforthewaitress,andorderawhiskey.GabeandBrandgetonetoo,andwhenthegirlisgone,

Gabeglancesatme.

“Youknow,IguessIshould’veasked…isthisok?Youhaven’tbeenoutdrinkinginalongtime.I

don’twantittocauseyouaproblem.Youknow,after…”

“Afterwhat?”Istarehimintheeyesandmakehimsayit.

“Afterafewyearsago.Whenyouhad…yourissues.”

“Myissueswereneverbeinganalcoholic,”Iremindhim.“DidIuseittolosemyself?Yeah,IguessI

did.ButthatwasachoiceImade.Whenyou’reanalcoholic,it’saneed.Ididn’tneedto.Iwantedto.I’m

fine.”

Hedoesn’tlookcompletelyconvinced,butdoesn’tsayanythingmore.

Ourdrinksaredelivered,andIdrinkminequickly.

Withinaminute,mychestiswarm,andwithinanotherfive,thepainhasdulled.Isignalforanother.If

oneisgood,twoisbetter.

CHAPTERNINE

ila

Thereissomethingwetbetweenmylegs.

IrealizethatasIwatchZuzuplayinthebackgardens,andIamsittingintheshadeofthehouse,

curledupachair.

I’mbleeding.

IcallforNatasha.Shecomesout,casuallyatfirst,thensheseesmyface.

“What’swrong?”sheasksinalarm.

“Ineedtogotothedoctor,Itellher.“PleasewatchZuzu.”

Iamoutthedoor,leavingherstaringaftermeinconfusion.

ItrytocallPaxfromthecar,buthisphonegoesstraighttovoicemail.Icallhisoffice.

“I’msorry,Mrs.Tate,”Sashatellsme.“Heleftforthedayoveranhourago.”

“Areyousure?”Iaskher.Becausehehasn’tcomehome.

“Quitesure,”sheassuresme.

“Ok,”Ianswer,hangingup.IcallMaddynext.

“I’llmeetyouatthehospital,”sheresponds,afterIexplain.

Sheactuallybeatsmethere,andwhenIarrive,sheispacinginfrontoftheERdoors.

“Where’sPax?”sheasks,glancingaroundme.

“Idon’tknow.”

Weheadtotheadmittancedesk,andwithinthirtyminutes,I’minanexamroom,withmygowntiedin

theback.

“Ifyoucouldlikeflat,”thedoctortellsme,“We’llhavealook-see.”

He’sgotasonogramwandinhishand,andthegeliswarmonmybelly.Iholdmybreathashe

searchesforaheartbeatandMaddyclutchesmyhand.

Then,

Thereitis.

Astrongwhirringnoise,fastandloud,likeahummingbird’swings.

“Thereitis,”thedoctorsaystriumphantly.“Itsoundsgood.”

Hepushesandprods,andexaminesthesonogramscreen.

“Idon’tseeanyvisiblesignsofdistress,”hetellsme.“Sometimes,vaginalbleedingcanoccurfor

unexplainedreasons.Let’sputyouonbed-restthisweek,andyoucanfollowupwithyourdoctoron

Monday.”

Inod,andI’msorelieved.Maddyhugsme.

“It’sok,”shetellsme.“It’sok.”

Ifeelweakandrelieved,andMaddyslipsoutsoIcanwipethegoopoffandgetdressed.Itrytocall

Paxagain.

Noanswer.

Whatthehell?

Ifeelshakywithmyrelief,andMaddywantstodrivemehome.

Ishakemyhead.“No.Thenwe’lljusthavetocomebackformycar.It’seasierthisway.”

Maddystaresatme.“Youcansendsomeoneforyourcar.Youhavethatluxurynow.”

Iforgot.“You’reright.”

IleavemycarandclimbintoMaddy’s.Shemakesonlyonestop,andthatisinthedrive-throughofa

hamburgerjointtogetfoodandmilkshakes.

“Youhavetokeepyourstrengthup,”shejustifies,assheshovesfriesinhermouth.

“Whataboutyou?”

“Sistersolidarity.”

“Valid,”Inod,sippingonmychocolateshake.Ikeeponehandonmybellyprotectively,asthoughit

willhelp.

“You’reok,”Maddyremindsmeatastoplight.“Alliswell.”

Inod.“Ok.”

“Quitworrying.Thatonlymakesthingsworse.”

ShecallsGabethroughherBluetooth.

“Hey,babe!”heanswersonthespeaker,andit’sloudinthebackground.“What’sup?”

“I’mjustdrivingMilahomefromthehospital,”shetellshim.“Imightbealittlelatecominghome.”

“Thehospital?”Gabeissurprised,andIhearhimtalkinginthebackgroundwithsomeone.ThenPax

isonthephone.

“Maddy,whywasMilainthehospital?Issheallright?”

Thesoundofhisfamiliarvoicemakesmerelaxintotheseat,immediatelycomfortable.

MyPax.

“I’mfine,babe,”Itellhim.“Justalittleblood.IfreakedoutandwenttotheER.Icouldn’tgetahold

ofyou…”

“Mydamnedphonewasdead,”hetellsmequickly.“GabeandBrandtookmeforadrink,andI

plannedtobehomeontime.Istillwillbe.Infact,we’llleaverightnow.I’llmeetyouathome.”

“You’reatabar?”Iaskhim,confused.Thisisn’tlikehim.

“Yeah.It’snobigdeal,babe.I’msosorryyoucouldn’treachme.Thatwillneverhappenagain.My

phonewillalwaysbecharged.”

“Ok,”Ianswer,butI’mstillabitbewildered.Paxhasn’ttouchedmuchalcoholatallinyears.I’mnot

concerned,just…startled,Iguess.Thisistwiceinaweek.

Maybehe’sdecided,afterallthistime,thathe’sokwithit.

That’sprobablyagoodsign.Maybe?Idon’tknow.

“Mila,Iloveyou,”hetellsme.“I’llseeyousoon.”

Hehangsup,andMaddylooksatme.“See?He’sfine.You’refine.Alliswell.”

Shedrivesforaminuteortwolonger,thengivesmeside-eye.

“Shouldhebeatabar?”

“Paxknowshislimitations,”Isayfirmly,andIbelievethat.“Hechosetogiveupalcohol.Ifhethinks

hecanhandleitnow,thenhecan.Itrusthim.”

“Ofcourse!”Maddyanswers.“Itrusthimtoo.”

Butwe’requiet,andIthinkwe’rebothwonderingthesamething.DoesPaxknowwhatisbest?

“Hisgrandfatherdidjustdie,”Maddysaysabitlater.“Andyou’vehadtomove.Andhislegis

hurtinghim.Icantell.That’salotofchange.Andhe’sworriedaboutyou,too.”

“Iknow,”Itellher.“Trustme.ButPaxwouldsaysomethingifhefeltoverwhelmed.Hedoesn’tkeep

thingsfromme.Notanymore.”

“That’strue,”Maddyadmits,andshesoundsrelieved.“That’sverytrue.”

“Sostopworrying,”Itellher.“Alliswell.”

“Don’tusemyownwordsagainstme,”shedemandsindignantly.“That’saverywiseline,andI’mthe

onewhousesit.”

Irollmyeyes.“Ok.Youowntheline.”

“Damnstraight.”

Inibbleatmyhamburgerfortherestofthetrip,andwhenwegettomyhome,Maddyshufflesmeout

andintothehouse.Shehoverslikeamotherhen,andmakessureIgostraighttothecouch.

“You’resupposedtobeonbed-restthisweek,”sheremindsme.“Nowalkingaround.Justtothe

bathroom.”

“Yes,mother.”

Sheglares.“Don’ttakethislightly.”

Irollmyeyesagain.“DoyoureallythinkI’lltakeitlightly?”

“No.Isupposenot.”

She’sinthekitchengettingmeadrinkofwaterwhenPaxrushesthroughthedoor.He’slimping,of

course,buthe’smovingfast.GabeandBrandareonhisheels.

“Areyouok?”heasks,andhesitsnexttome,shovingmyhairoutofmyeye.“Areyouok?”

“Yes,”Iassurehim.“I’mfine.IsweartoGod.”

Heswallows.“Andthebabyis…”

“Okay,too.I’msupposedtobeonbed-restthisweek,andthenfollowupwithDr.Sturgeonon

Monday.It’sok.Alliswell.”

Maddyclearsherthroatasshecomesbackin,andIstareather.“Itis,”Iinsist.

“Iknow,”shesays,settingmytraydown.“Icoinedthephrase.”

“Youdidnot,”Gabeguffaws.“Brandtaughtyouthat.”

“Oh,didhe?”Iask,myeyebrowsraised,andMaddyhasthegracetolooksheepish.Brandgrins.

“It’ssomethingmygrandmausedtosay,”hetellsus.“Areyoufeelingok,Mila?”

Inod.“Yeah.ThankyouforbringingPax.”Iturntomyhusband.“Mycarisatthehospital.We’llhave

togogetit.”

“Don’tworryaboutit,”hereassuresme.“It’llbetakencareof.”

Maddycoversmylegswithablanket.“Areyouoknow?Doyouneedanythingelse?”

“Ifshedoes,I’llgetitforher,”Paxtellsher.“Don’tworry,Mad.”

“Asif,”Isayundermybreath,andGabehears.Hegrins.

“Youknowhertoowell.You’dbettersilenceyourphonetonight.Shemighttrytocallyouatmidnight

tocheckonyou.”

“Goodidea.”

“Veryfunny,”Maddyannounces.“Youguysthinkyouknowmesowell.”

“Wedo,”Gabetellsher.“Nowlet’sgoandletyoursisterrest.”

Shekissesme.“Ifyouneedanything,youcallme.Imeanit.”

“Thanks,Mad.”

Theyleave,andBrandgoeswiththem.PaxandIareleftalone.

“What’shappening?”Iaskhimquietly.“WhydoIfeelsonervous?”

ButPaxholdsmyhandandeverythingisfine,becauseitalwaysiswhenhe’swithme.

“Alliswell,”hesays,andhesmilesanditislikethesun.

CHAPTERTEN

Ijustliedtomywife.

Ifeelitinmygut.

Allisnotwell.Notwithme.

ButIrefusetotroubleMilawithit.I’mevenmoreconvincedofthatnow.

SoIholdherhand,andstrokeherhair,andignorethepaininmyleg,andIignorethefeelingof

slippingdownahillside.I’mslipping,andIdon’tknowhoworwhy.IjustknowthatIam.

Iwalkwithhertoourbedroom,andshestopstokissZuzu’sforehead.Ourdaughterissleeping

peacefully,withherlamponthatmakesstarsdanceontheceiling.Iturnitoff.

“See?She’sfine,”Itellher.Milasmiles.

“ShelookssomuchlikeMaddy.”

Iagreewiththat.

“Iwantthisonetolooklikeyou,”sheadds.Ishakemyhead.

“Noway.Don’tdothattothepoorkid.Itneedstolooklikeyou.”

“You’rebeautifulandyouknowit,”sheargues.Itugherintothebedroom,andpullhershirtoff.

“Let’sgetyouintopajamas,”Itellher.“Yourfavoriteones.”

“Quitspoilingme.I’mfine.”

Ifoldtheblanketsback,andsheclimbsin.

Igetinbesideher,pullingherclose.Evenafterbeingatthehospital,shesmellslikesunshine.

“Idon’tknowwhatIwoulddoifsomethinghappenedtoyou,”Itellherhonestly.

Shelooksupatme,hereyeswideandclear.“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutthat.Notforalong,long

time.”

“I’msorryIwasn’ttherewhenyoucalled,”Itellher.“Itwon’thappenagain.”

“Babe,it’sok,”shesaysandshecloseshereyes,restinginmyarms.“It’sok.Truly.”

She’shadalongday,andshesleepssoon.

Butnotme.

Ilieawake,worryingaboutwhatcould’vehappened.Ifshe’dlostthebaby,itwould’vecrushedher.

Mykneeisthrobbing,andItrytorubatitwithoutdisturbingMila,butitisn’tgoingtohappen.The

longerIlayinonespot,themoreitseemstohurt.Andwhenithurts,itpermeateseverycornerofmy

body.Itdoesn’tstayinmyleg.

IliestillforaslongasIcantakeit,thenIfinallywiggleoutofMila’sarms,andfinaglemywaytomy

feet.Mykneethreatenstogiveoutagain,butIsteadymyself,thenlimpdownthehalltomystudy.

Istoponlyonce,topokemyheadinsideZu’sbedroom.Herblondheadrestspeacefullyonher

pillow,herhandcurledunderherchin.

Icontinueonmyway,andstopjustinsidethedoor,pouringmyselfadrink.Ipourasecondone,and

takeitwithmeacrosstheroom.

Grimacing,Isitatmydesk,andpropmylegupasbestIcan.

Iletmyheadfallback,andIclosemyeyes,andFuck,ithurtslikeasummabitch,asGabewouldsay.

Mindovermatter,Itellmyself.Mindovermatter.

Butpainisademandingmistress,anditrefusestobeignored.

“Again?”Natasha’svoicefillstheroom,andIopenmyeyes.

She’sconcerned,inherrobeagain,andInod.

“Yeah.”

“Youknow,Iwasthinking.Ihavesomemusclerelaxersthatmydoctorgavemeformyback.Doyou

wanttotrythem?Maybetheycouldhelp.”

She’shesitant,butshewantstohelp,andit’sniceofher.

“Sure,”Itellher.“I’llgiveanythingatryatthispoint.”

Shesmiles.“Ok.I’llberightback.”

Truetoherword,shecomesbackwithinminutes,andhandsmeabottle.

“Keepthemall,”shetellsme.“Idon’tusethem.”

“Thankyou.”Igulptwodownwithwhiskey.Natashastaresatme.

“Idon’tthinkyoushouldtakethemwithalcohol.”

“IthinkI’llbefine.Iweightwo-hundredpounds.Thesewereprescribedforyou,andyouweigh…

what...ahundred,soakingwet?”

“Youflatter,”shesmiles.

Iwasn’ttryingto.

“ShouldImakeadoctorappointmentforyoutomorrow?”sheasks.“Icanbediscreet,andMrs.Tate

won’tknow.”

ShealmostsoundsconspiratorialandIrushtosetthatstraight.

“Idon’tlikekeepingthingsfromMila,”Itellher.“Ijustdon’twanthertobeworried.Especially

aftertonight.”

“Iunderstandcompletely,”sheanswers.“I’lldomybesttohelpyou.”

Sheglancesdownatmyleg,andIrealizethatI’minat-shirtandboxer-briefs.It’salmostindecent

becauseyoucanseethebulgeofmypenis,butshedoesn’tseemtonotice,thankGod.

“Yourkneeisswollen,”shepointsout.“I’llgetyouanicepack.”

She’sonherwayoutthedoorbeforeIthinktoprotest.Whenshecomesback,shesettlesitonmyleg,

anddamned,ifitdoesn’tfeelbetter.

“Youshouldkeepthaticed,”sheadvises.“Themoreitswells,themoreitwillhurt.”

“Thatmakessense.”

“Youneversaidifyouwantmetomakeanappointment?”

Ishakemyhead.“No.They’reonlygoingtotellmethatIneedsurgery.There’snothingmoretheycan

dountilthen.”

“Soyou’rejustgoingtogrinandbearit?”

“Well,IdoubtI’llbegrinning,butyeah.”

“Goodnight,Mr.Tate.”

“Goodnight.”

Isitwiththenightawhile,staringoutthewindows.Thegroundsherearemanicuredandlush,and

theyarequietnow.Ismile,thinkingabouthowZuzuandherfuturebrothersandsisterswillrunandplay

inthegardens.TheywillhavethechildhoodthatIneverhad.Ofthat,Iamsure.

Ithinkaboutthatforaminute,mychildhood.

Ispentitwithmyfather,andIalwaysthoughtheresentedme,thathedidn’tlikeme.

Butitturnsout,thatwasn’tthecase.Hejustreallymissedmymother.

AndImisshertoo.ShediedwhenIwasyoung,butIhaven’tforgottenthewayshesmelledlike

honeysuckle,orthewayshesmiledatmelikeIwasherwholeworld.

MilaisthekindofmothertoZuzuthatmymotherwastome.AndIguessIjustwanthertohavemore

chancestosharethatlove.She’sgotsomuchofittogive.I’dgiveanythingtokeepherfromharm.

I’dsacrificeanything.

Idon’tcareifIfuckmylegupbeyondallrecognitionandneverwalkagain,Milaisn’tgoingtolose

thisbaby.NotifIcanhelpit.

IrealizethatImightnotberationalaboutallofthis,butafterthechildhoodIhad,Imustbegiven

someslack.I’mnotalwaysrational.

I’mrestlessandeventhoughthewhiskeyandmusclerelaxershavetakentheedgeoff,Istillfeelthe

pain.Irubatit,andclimbtomyfeet,andlimpouttothegarage.

Iscanthedarkness,andinthelastslot,mybabysits.

Danger,my‘69Charger.

IwalkthroughthedarknessandwhenIgettoher,Ipullhertarpoff.Shestillgleams,midnightblack,

andIdropintoherdriver’sseat.She’smintcondition,andfuck,Ilovethiscar.

Itbringsbacksomanymemories,ofthelifeIhadbefore,ofmeetingMila,oftimesafterthat,when

MilaandIwouldroardownthehighwayonhour-longdrives.Herhandwouldbeonmyleg,andherhair

wouldbeblowingouttheopenwindow.

Ismileatthememory.

I’vebeensoblessed,soveryfortunate.

Iwould’vediedyearsagointhisverycarifithadn’tbeenforMila.

She’dcalledtheambulancethatsavedmylife.

Isprawlintheseat,andsithalfin,andhalfoutofthecar.Itsmellslikeoldleatherinhere,andit’sso

veryfamiliar.Assoonasmykneeishealed,I’mgoingtodrivethiscar.

Fuckbeingdriven.

Ilistentotheradioforabit,andthenI’mstartledbyavoice.

“Mr.Tate?”

Jesus,isNatashagoingtoturnupeverywhereIgo?

“Hi,Natasha.”

Shebendsdownsoshecanseeme.

“Areyouok?”

“Yes.Iwas…reminiscing.”

“Maybeyoushouldgotobed,”shesuggests.“You’regoingtobesotiredtomorrow.”

Istareather.“Didyoubossmygrandfatheraround,too?”

She’ssheepishnow.“Itookcareofyourgrandfather,yes.Helikeditthatway.”

Thewayshesaysthatstrikesmeoddly.“Youdidn’t…Imean,youandheweren’t…”

Shevisiblyshrinksback.“Oh,mylord.No.Iviewedhimlikeafather.That’sall.Iwantedtotake

careofhimbecauseheworkedsohardandrarelytookcareofhimself.”

“Calmdown,”Itellher,andIcan’thelpbutsmile.Thewhiskeyandmusclerelaxershavemademe

zen.MoresothanI’vebeeninawhile.“Ididn’tmeananyoffense.”

Shestiffenshershoulders.“BeingwithMr.Alexanderwouldn’tbeaninsult,”shetellsme.“Itwould

beanhonor.”

“Hewasfiftyyearsolderthanyou,”Ipointout.

Sheshrugs.

“Mr.Tate,you’rechangingthesubject.Ireallythinkyoushouldrest.”

“AndIreallythinkyoushouldn’tworryaboutit,”Itellher.“I’mfine.”

“Youhaveafullscheduletomorrow.”

“Andhowwouldyouknowaboutthat?”

“Sashasendsmeyourscheduleeveryeveningforthefollowingday.It’showyourgrandfatherdidit.”

“Huh.SoifIforgetsomething,Icanaskyou?”

“Exactly.”

“Thatwillcomeinhandy,”Iadmit.“WhatdoIhavetomorrow?”

“YouhaveameetingwithPeterateighta.m.”

IpicturePeter’ssternfaceandpinchednose.

“Fuck.”

“So,bedthen?”sheasksbrightly,holdingoutherhandtohelpmeup.Igrowlather,butshe’sright.I

sigh.

“Yeah.”

Sheheftsmeoutofthecar,andIevenleanonheralittleasweclimbthehandfulofstairsleadingout

ofthegarage.Mylegfeelsheavyandawkward,andIalmostuseherasacrutch.Somethingabouther

feelsfamiliar,anditmakesmecomfortable.Ican’tputmyfingeronit.

We’rejustcomingthroughthedoorwaywhenMilabumpsintous.

She’swearingarobe,herhairisdisheveled,andshe’shorrified.

Andthat’swhenIrealizehowthismustlook.

CHAPTERELEVEN

ila

Istareaghastatmyhusband,whoiswalkingarminarmwithournewhouse-keeperoutofadarkened

garage.She’swearingarobe,andhe’swearingat-shirtandunderwear.

“Thisisn’twhatitlookslike,”Paxsaysquickly,andmyheart…itthumpssoloudlyinmychestthatI

thinkhecanprobablyhearit.

“No?”Iask,andmylipsseemtobefrozen.

“No,”Natashastammers.“IjustknewMr.Tatewasup,andsoIwenttocheckonhim,and…”

“Youwenttocheckonhiminthegarage?”Iask,andIknowIsoundcold,butthegirlisstillholding

ontomyhusband’sarm.Sheseesmygazeandreleaseshim.

“Yes,m’am,”sheacknowledges.“Inthegarage.”

“IwassittinginDanger,”Paxtellsme,andIthinkheactuallylookspale.“Iwaslisteningtotheradio.

Icouldn’tsleep.Ididn’twanttowakeyou.Andwhyareyououtofbed?”

“Becauseyouweregone,”Itellhimevenly.“Andyoudidn’tcomeback.Iwaitedforanhour,and

thendecidedtocomelookingforyou.”

“God,I’msorry,babe,”hetellsmeandhetouchesmyarm.Ibackaway.

“Pax,whywereyouandNatashaholdingontoeachother,ifit’snotwhatitlookslike?”

Hetakesabreath,andwhenhedoes,whenheexhales,Ismellit.

Whiskey.

“Wereyououttheredrinking?”Iaskhim,astounded.Becausewhatthehell?

“No,”herushestotellme.“Ihadadrinkinmyoffice,hopingtosettledown,butIwasn’tdrinkingout

inthegarage.Ijust…ImissedmycarsoIwenttositinher.”

“WithNatasha,”Isayslowly.

“No.Natashacametocheckonme.Iwasn’twithNatasha.”

I’mstillandIdon’tknowwhattothinkandI’mnotsupposedtobewalkingaround.

“I’mgoingbacktobed,”Itellhim.NatashalookshelplessandPaxisflustered.Hetrailsnexttome,

andthat’swhenIrealizethathe’slimpingagain.

“Yourkneeisstillbotheringyou,”Ipointout,turningtohim.

“Justalittle,”heanswers.“Don’tworryaboutit,babe.Let’sgobacktobed.Youhavetorest.”

Iturn,andwordlesslywalktherestofthewayandInoticethatIhavetoslowdownforPaxtokeep

up.

“Youneedtogobacktothedoctor,”Itellhim.

Heshakeshishead.“It’snotnecessaryrightnow,Red.Trustme.”

IclimbbackintothecoolsheetsandPaxliesdownbesideme.

“YousweartoGodnothingwasgoingonwithNatasha?”

Ihatethesuspicioustoneinmyvoice.He’snevergivenmeareasontodoubthim.Notever.ButI

thinkanywifewouldquestionherhusbandcomingoutofadarkenedgaragewithanotherwomaninthe

middleofthenight.

“IsweartoGod,”hesaysfirmly.“Lord.WhywouldIwantanyoneelsewhenIhaveyou?”

“Well,Iamprettyperfect,”Iquip,relaxing.“Iguessyou’dbecrazy.”

“Imightbecrazy,”hetellsme.“ButI’mnotstupid.You’rethebestthingthat’severhappenedtome,

andI’mnotlosingyou.Notever.”

“Soyouweren’tdoinganythingwithNatasha?”Ican’thelpmyself.

“God,no.”He’sfirmandimmediate.

“Ok.”

Icurlontomyside,andclosemyeyes.ButIopenthemaminutelater.

“Pax?”

“Yeah,babe?”

“Pleasedon’tsitinadarkcarwithheragain.”

“Promise.”

Igriphisarminmyhands,andhismusclebulgesbeneathmyfingertips.

“You’remine.”

“I’myours,”heagrees.“Thereisnoquestionaboutthat.”

“Good.”

WhenIwake,Paxisgone.Imust’vebeensleepingsohardthathedidn’twanttowakeme.Itfeels

oddthough,tostartmydaywithoutkissingmyhusband.

WhenIgointothebathroomthough,there’sanotetapedtomymirror.

Babe,Iloveyou.ONLYYOU.Seeyousoon!

Ican’thelpbutsmileatthat,andwarmthfloodsmybelly.

It’sweirdhownight-timemakesapersonthinkdifferentthoughtsthantheywouldinthelightofday.

Paxwouldneverbetrayme.Notever.Iknowthat.

Grimacing,Iheadbacktobed.

Idon’twantto,butIknowthatIcan’tgetupforaweek.

Zuzurunsintocuddleassoonasshe’sasleepandshortlyafter,Chelciearrives.

“Paxcalledme,”shesaysbrightly,andsheopensthedrapes.“I’llbehereeverydaythisweektolook

afterZu.”

“Thankyou,”Itellhergratefully.“I’llonlybedownforaweek.”

“AndI’malsosupposedtomakesureyoustaydown,”shetellsmeruefully.“Sorry.”

Irollmyeyes.“That’sok.I’dexpectnothinglessoutofPax.I’msurprisedhehasn’tstationed

NationalGuardsoldiersatmydoor.”

“Don’tgivehimideas,”shecautions.“I’mgoingtotakeZutothezootoday,ifthat’sokwithyou.

There’sanewotterexhibit.Ithinkshe’llloveit.”

MyhearttwingesbecauseI’dlovetotakehertothat,butIcan’tbeselfish.Idon’twanthersittingat

homeworryingabouthermama.

“That’sfine,”Itellher.Zuzuisexcited,andkissesmegoodbye,andwhentheyleave,myroomisso

quiet.

I’msobored.

ItextMaddyandPax.Ipickupabook.Iscanthroughchannels.

Iwasn’tmadetoliestill.

It’sanhourorsobeforeNatashaknockssoftly,thenpokesherheadin.

“M’am?”

EventhoughIknowPaxwasn’tdoinganythingwithher,somethingabouthergratesatme.

“Yes?”

“Icametoseewhatyouwantforbreakfast.”

Sheissubdued.

“Scrambledeggsandfruitwouldbelovely,”Ianswer.Iforcemyselftobefriendly.Shehasn’tdone

anythingtome.Myinstinctsarecloudedbymypregnanthormones.

“Comingrightup,”shesays,andshesmiles.“CanIgetanythingforyou?”

“Yes,actually.Ifyoucouldgetmyhairbrushfromthebathroom,I’dreallyappreciateit.”

“Ofcourse.”Shescampersintogetit,andItrytopretendtomyselfthatIdidn’tsendherinthereto

seePax’snotewhichisstilltapedonthemirror.Ittakesheracoupleofminutes,andI’msureshe’s

readingit.

Idon’tknowwhat’scomeoverme,butI’msatisfiedbythat.I’veneverbeenjealousbefore.

Whenshere-emergeswithmyhairbrush,sheisnonplussed,andonherwayoutthedoor,Icallafter

her.

“Couldyougrabasketchpadonyourwayback?I’mdyingofboredom.”

“Ofcourse,”shenods,andshe’sgone.

Herperfumelingersthough,andit’ssweet,floral.Itrytoputmyfingeronwhatitis.Jasmine?No.

Rose?No.

It’snotuntilhecomesbackwithmybreakfastthatIdecide.

It’shoneysuckle.

CHAPTERTWELVE

Workisuneventful,eventhedreadedmeetingwithPeterfirstthinginthemorning.

Byafternoon,I’mtiredagain.Thelackofsleepthingistakingitstoll.

Atthreeo’clock,Sashabuzzesme.

“Mr.Tate,youhaveaphonecall.”

“From?”

Shehesitates.“FromtheMarionCorrectionalFacility.”

Myheartthudsdullyinmychest,becauseLeroyEllisonisthere.

Theson-of-abitchwhokilledmymother.

“Puthimthrough,”Itellher,andmyvoiceislikewood,andwhatthehellisthatfuckercallingme?

“Hello?”

Anelderlymanisinmyear,andIhaven’theardthisvoiceinalong,longtime.

“Whatdoyouwant?”

There’salaughnow,anditsoundswet,likeheneedstocough.

“Well,now,son.IsthatanywaytogreetyourlonglostUncleLeroy?”

“Shutthefuckup,”Itellhim.“Whyareyoucallingme?”

“DoyoustillhaveyourX,kid?HisvoiceissocraggyandIlookatthebaseofmythumb,whereit

meetsmyhand.AjaggedscarintheshapeonanXisthere,carvedbyLeroy’sknifesolongago,right

afterhekilledmymother.

Xmarksthespot.

“Icanstillfindyou,youknow,”headds.

Iwait.

“Youknowyou’retheonewhobumpedthetrigger.Ishouldn’tbehere.Itshouldbeyou.”

“Yousonofabitch,”Ispit.“Iwasakid,andyouwereforcingyourselfonmymother.Iwastryingto

saveher.”

“Regardless,”hecontinues,astheyhedoesn’thaveacareintheworld.“Ishouldn’tbehere.Thinkon

that.”

Hehangsup,andI’mstunned.

Whatthehellwasthatallabout?

I’minshockasIsitinmyrichleatherchairandstareoutthewallofwindowstomyleft.Belowme,

Hartfordbustlesaroundonit’sbusystreetsandIsuddenlyfeelallalone.

Mymother’skillercalledmeatwork.SohesomehowknowsthatI’mworkinghere,andprobably

knowsmygrandfatherisdead.

Ofcourse,hecould’vegottenthatfromthenewspapers.

Hemustnothavemuchtodoinprison.

I’msuddenlyburningwithragethathewoulddaretocontactme.Whatgiveshimtherighttoeven

fuckingspeaktome?

IpickupthephonetocallMila,becausethat’swhatIwouldnormallydo.Weshareeverything.

Only…today...Milaisathomeinbedwithourunbornchild,tryingtoensurethatitlives.

She’sgotmoretoworryaboutthananolddumbasswhoissittinginprisontryingtogetariseoutof

me.Iputmyphonebackdown.

I’lltellheraboutitlater.Nextweek,whenshe’supandaroundagain.

Withasigh,Itrytocallmyfatherinstead,buthe’sinameeting.

Fuck,theadultworldsuckssometimes.

Ifocusonworkdocuments,scanningcontracts,rubbingmyknee.

Andthen,rightbeforeIdecidetoclose-upshoptogohome,Sashacomesinwiththemail.

“It’slatetoday,”shetellsme,assheputsthepre-openedstackinmyinbox.Sheopensthem,scans

them,andflagsthemforme,categorizedbycolor.Yellowmeansitcanwait,Greenmeansitneedsa

signature,andRedmeansit’sveryimportant,andthoseareontop.

Ionlyhaveoneredflagtoday.

Sittingbackinmychair,Igrabit.

It’saletter.

MyeyesaregluedtoitasIreaditfromstarttoend,thescrawlinghandwritingclearlymasculine.

Pax,

Ihopethisletterfindsyouwell.

Ithinkyou’llbeinterestedinwhatIhavetosay,ityougivemeafewminutestosayit.

Wouldyouliketoknowwhatyourmothersaidtomeaboutyoubeforeshedied?

I’mtheonlyonewhoknows,andIcantellyou.

Thepriceissmall.

Bestregards,

LeroyH.Ellison

MybreathhitchesinmythroatandIreaditagain,thenagain.

Theenvelopeisclippedtotheletterbyapaperclip,anditisstampedINMATE

CORRESPONDENCE.

Sonofabitch.

Idon’tknowwhattodo.AllIknowiswhatIwanttodo,andthatisdrivetotheMarionprisonand

punchthisfuckingguy’sthroatin.

What.The.Fuck.

Ican’teventhinkclearly.

Istalkoutoftheoffice,knowingthatSashawillcallforthecar.I’mright.Rogeriswaitingatfront

doorstoushermeintotheback.

“Home,sir?”heasksasheclimbsinthedriver’sseat.

“No.Drivearoundforawhile,please.Ineedtoclearmythoughts.”

“Yougotit.”

Thelimonosesoutofthelotintothestreet,andIstareabsentlyoutthewindow,atthetraffic,atthe

trees,atthepeoplewalkingonthesidewalk.

IshouldputLeroyEllisonoutofmyhead.

There’snothinghecanoffermethatmakesspeakingwithhimworthit.

Except…whathadmymothersaid?

Itdoesn’tmatter.She’sgonenow,andprobablyanythinghesayswouldbealie.Ican’ttrusthim.I

knowthat.AsIthink,Irubatthescaronmyhand,thescarhegaveme,backwhenIwasalittleboyand

couldn’tfightback.

I’dwatchedhimsexuallyviolatemymotherwhenIwasshovedintothecloset,andthen…well,she’d

died.

Idon’tknowwhat,ifanything,shesaidinbetween.Iwasinthecloset,hidinglikethescaredlittle

boyIwas.

Whathadshesaid?

Damnit.I’mpissedbecausethisisexactlyhowhewantsmetofeel,andIdon’twanttoplayintohis

hands.

I’mnotgoingtoplayintohishands.

I’mnot.

Fuckhim.

Nothingmymothersaidwillchangethefactthatshe’sgone.

IpulloutthebottleofmusclerelaxersthatNatashagavemeandtossacoupleintomymouth.Then,I

wait.Thepaindulls,relaxationcomes.Theymustbeprettystrong,becauseithappensquicklyandbrings

withitarushofdizziness.

“Wecangohomenow.”

Rogerturnstowardhome,andthedrivegoesquickly,becausehe’stakingmetomywife.

Iclimbout,andI’mthroughthedoor,andI’mdownthehall,ignoringthepainofwalking,ignoringthe

bullshitfromLeroy,andI’mwalkingthroughthebedroomdoors,andMilaissmilingatme.

She’sinthebedwhereshe’ssupposedtobe,andherfacelightsupwhenIentertheroom.

“Babe,”sheexclaims.“Imissedyou.”

Myheartfloodswithwarmth,andeverythingmeltsawaywhenIseeher.She’severything.She’sallI

need.

Isitnexttoher,gatheringherintomyarms.

“Youfeelskinnier,”Ifret.“Areyoueating?”

“Yes,”shenods.“Alot.”

“Areyouresting?”

“Yes.You’vegotNatasha,ChelcieandMaddycheckingonme.Icouldn’tgoanywhereifItried.”

Ipullhertome,inhalingherskin,mylipspressedtoherneck.Lavender,vanilla,andeverything

good.That’swhatshesmellslike.Sunshineandrain,earthandthesun.Iholdherclose,grippinghertight.

Shethreadsherfingersthroughmyhair,andthenshepullsbackalittle.

“Areyouok?”sheasksgently.“What’swrong,babe?”

“Nothing,”Ilie.“Nothingatall.Everythingisok.”

Itdoesseemtobe,whenIamwithher.It’scornyashell,buttrue.

“ZuzuandIwerejustgettingreadytohaveapicnicinhere,”Milatellsme.“Fordinner.Itseemed

likeyoumightbelate,soIwantedtofeedher.”

“Ibroughtplenty,”Natashasaysasshecomesinthedoorwithagiantbasketandmydaughter.Zu

boundsintomyarms,bouncingonthebed.

“Calmdown,sweet,”Itellher.“Youcan’tjostlemommyaroundrightnow.”

“Becauseofthebabyinhertummy?”

MygazefliestoMilaandsheshrugs.“Natashadidn’trealizethatZudidn’tknow.Thecatisoutofthe

bag.”

“I’msosorry,”Natashatellsme.“Ican’tbelieveIwassodumb.”

“It’sok,”Milatellsher,andIcantellit’snotthefirsttimeNatashahasapologized.“Shehadtoknow

eventually.”

“I’mgoingtohaveasister,”Zutellsmeseriously.

“Orabrother,”Ianswer.“Oneortheother.”

“It’sasister,”shesaysconfidently.“Iknowit.”

MilaandIlaugh,andourentirefamilyisonthisbed.Natashapausesatthefoot.

“Hopdown,sweetheart,”shetellsZuzu.“I’mgoingtosetupdinner.”

Andshedoes.Shespreadsapicnictableclothandlaysoutapicnicspreadbefittingofaroyalfamily.

“Thisislovely,”Milatellsher,reachingforapieceofcheese.“Thankyou.”

“It’smypleasure.”

Natashabreezespastmeandoutthedoor,andIonceagainfeellikeIknowher,butIdon’tknowfrom

where.

Itdoesn’tmatter.

I’mwithMilaandZuzunow.That’swhatmatters.

Weeat,thecoldfriedchickenandthebiscuitsandthecheese.IfeedZuzupiecesofgrapesandMila

licksherfingers.

“Thisisperfect,”shesayshappily.

“Areyoudoingok?Nopain?”Iaskher.Sheshakesherhead.

“Nopain,noblood.Stopworrying.”

“Asif.”

Sheshakesherhead,andIlookatourdaughter,whoisalreadyyawning.

“Chelseatookhertothezoo,”Milaexplains.“She’swornout.”

“I’llgetherreadyforbed,”Itellher.“Seveno’clockisn’ttooearly,isit?”

“Notforsuchalongday,”sheanswers.“Thankyou.”

IreadZuzuherfavoritebooktwice,thenturnonherlamp.Ituckherfavoritestuffedtigerinnextto

herandkissherforehead.

ThenIheadbacktoMila.

“I’mgoingtotakeashower,thenjoinyou,”Itellher.

“I’mlookingforwardtoit.”

Iletthehotwaterpourdownonme,andputmostoftheweightonmygoodleg.Thesteambuildsup

anddrainsmostofmytension,andbythetimeItoweloff,Ifeelmuchbetter.

Tobeonthesafeside,IpopacouplemoremusclerelaxersbeforeIjoinmywifeinbed.

Shewelcomesmewithopenarms,andImoldmybodytohers,becausethisiswhereIbelong.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

yfatherfliesintotowntwodayslaterandmeetsmeafterworkatthePub.

“Whatexactlydidhesay?”heasksmeseriously.Hishandstwisttogether,becauseifanyonehates

LeroyEllisonmorethanIdo,it’smyfather.

“Hesaiditshouldbemeinprison,andthathewantedtotellmesomethingmomsaid.”

“Hedoesn’tknowshit,”myfatherswears,andpicksuphiswhiskeyglass.“Don’tpayhimanymind.”

“Iknow,”Itellhim,andIgulpmydrinktoo.“Ijustwonder…Imean,didshesayanything?”

“Ifshedid,itwasn’tanythingwedidn’talreadyknow.Yourmotheralwayscommunicatedher

feelings.Sheevenleftthoselettersforyouincaseanythingeverhappenedtoher.Shewasalways

prepared,alwaysspokehermind.Trustme.”

“Yeah,Iguessyou’reright,”Iadmit,andIdrainmyglass.Myfathernarrowshiseyes.

“Ihaven’tseenyoudrinklikethisinalongtime.Youok?”

Isignalthebartenderforanother.“Justalotofstressrightnow.I’mfine.Noreasontoworry.”

“Ok,”hesayshesitantly,andforaminute,Iseetheoldconcerninhiseyes,theconcernheusedto

havebackwhenIwasusingdrugsanddisappearingintoabottleofJack.

“I’mfine,”Ireassurehim.“I’vegotahandleonthings.There’sjustalotrightnow.”

“Iknow,”hesympathizes.“Iknow.Ifyouneedmeagain,I’mjustaphonecallaway.”

“Thatandathousandmiles.”

“Morelikeeighthundred.Nodistanceistoogreatthough,son.”

Myfatherhastrulyembracedshowinghisfeelingsnowadays.Sometimes,Ilikeit.Sometimes,it

makesmeuncomfortable.

“Doyouhavetimetocomeovertothehouse?”

Heshakeshishead.“Unfortunately,Idon’ttonight.I’llcomebacknextweekorso.”

“Ok.”

Wefinishourdrinks,andheshakesmyhand,thenhugsme.Heleaves,andIheadtotherestroom.

WhileI’mstandingattheurinal,I’mhitwithanoverwhelmingdesiretouse.

Itcomesfromnowhere,likeagreatblackwave,andIcantasteheroininmymouth,Icanfeelit

pulsinginmyblood.Icanfeelthestingoftheneedle,andIcansmelltheitinmynostrils.It’ssharp,it’s

overwhelming.

Ifighttobreathearoundthefeeling,butthebreathdoesn’twanttocome.

“Dude,youalright?”theguynexttomeasks,hisdickinhishand.He’sbreakingbro-codetoask.

“Yeah.”

Iputonehandonthewall,finishmypiss,andfinallymanagetobreathe.

Whattheactualfuck?

Thecravingdoesn’tgoaway,anditisstillthereontheridehome.

Iopenthemusclerelaxersandswallowfourofthem,lyingmyheadbackagainsttheseat,grittingmy

teeth.

Thiscan’tbehappening.

Iwon’tuse.

Thisisn’tapartofmylifeanymore.

Butholyshit.Theneed…forheroin,forcocaine…it’sovertakingmerightnow.It’scoursingthrough

me,tangibleandreal.Ialmostfeelshakywithit.

AndIdon’tknowwhy.

Sonofabitch.

Myskinisclammyandcold,andwhenwepulluptothefrontdoorsofmyhome,andRogeropensmy

door,I’mnotreadytogetout.

I’mstilltooshaky.

ButIputonabravefront,andstepintomyhome,becauseI’mnotagod-damnedpussyandIam

strongerthanthis.

Whateverthisis.

I’msurprisedtoseeMilaupandabout,withacupofhotcocoainherhand.Istandstill,preparedto

lecture,andshegrins.

“MydoctorsaidIcouldgetup.Hegavemetheallclear!”

She’sradiant,absolutelyglowing.

“You’resure?”Iask.“It’snotdangerous?”

“No,”shesaysfirmly.“HesaysI’mfine.Thebabyisfine.Icanresumelifeasnormal.Ifanyother

bleedinghappens,I’msupposedtolethimknow,ofcourse,butI’mfine,babe.Pleasestopworrying

now.”

We’veonlygotacoupleofweeksuntilshepassesthefirsttrimestermark.

Mykneethrobsasareminder.

I’lltakecareofitassoonaspossible.Inacoupleofweeks.

“Thiscallsforacelebration,”Itellher.“Let’sgoouttoeat.”

“Natashaisalreadymakingusafancydinner,”shetellsme.“AndZuisspendingthenightwith

Maddy.ShewaswatchingherwhileIwasatthedoctor’s,andsheaskedifshecouldkeepher.”

“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouhadanappointment?”Iask.

“BecauseIdidn’twantyoutoworry.”

Heranswerissimple,andsheissolikemeinthatway.She’dratherbearbadnewsalone,andshield

mefromitthebestshecan.

It’sthesamethingI’mdoingforher.

“TellNatashatoserveitinthelivingroom,”Itellher.“Andyou’llbeeatinginmylap.”

Iscoopherupandshegigglestheentirewaytothelivingroom.Whenwegetthere,I’vechangedmy

mind.

“Fuckit,”Imutter.“Tellhertokeepitwarm.”

Milagigglesthemessageintohercellphone,andIdepositherinthemiddleofthebed.Istripoffmy

shirtandpants,andthenkneeloverher,peelingoffherclothingitemsonebyone.Ipullherpantiesoff

withmyteeth.

Hersmell,muskyandfresh,floodsmynoseandI’minstantlyhard.

Herhandsareeverywhereonmyskin,pullingmetoher,andherheat…Jesus,herheatengulfsme,

andIcoverherwithmybody.

Mylipsblazeatrailfromherbellytohermouth,andmouthisneedy.

“Iwantyou,”shetellsmeurgently.“Please,Pax.”

HerlegsareloopedaroundmyhipsalreadyandIhavetomentallyslowdown.Iwantittolast.I

don’twanttohurther.

Ifeelher,everyinchofher,palmingherinmyhandsandplayingherlikeaninstrument.Shearches

andwhimpers,andIsmile,herlipsagainstmyteeth.

“Tellmewhatyouwant,Red,”Iurgeher.

“You,”shewhispersdaintily.“You.”

“Whatpartofme?”Iask,knowingdamnedwellwhatshewants.“Tellme,Red.Sayit.”

“Iwantyourhardcock,”hersweetmouthsays,andthedirtywordssoundsogoodcomingfromher

delicatelips.

Igiveittoher.Islideintoher,fromtiptobase,andIshudderwiththeecstasyofit.Shewhimpersand

clutchesatmyback,andIslowmyselfdownagain.

Deadpuppies,nuns,coldfish.Icalmmyself,andrhythmically,gently,Ifuckmywife.

Shegraspsthesheets,sheclutchesatmyhips,herlegsaretight,herpussyistighter.

“DearLord,”shesaysintomychest.

“Don’tbringhimintothis,”Itellher,andIgroanasIthrustdeeper.Ipullmyselfback.Ican’thurther.

Ican’t.

“I’mnotmadeofglass,”shetellsmeweakly,andshepullsmefurtherintoher,andit’smyundoing.

Ishudder,andconvulse,andmyhotfluidfillsherup.

Iholdmyselfaboveher,makingsureIdon’tcrushher.Herfaceisburiedinmyshoulder,andIthink

she’scrying.

Ilookatherquickly,andsheis,butshe’sshakingherheadnottoworry.

“It’smyhormones,”shefinallysays.“I’mhappy,babe.”

Relieved,Irolloffandholdher,andshesniffles.“IneverthoughtI’dbesohappy,”says.

“Me,too,”Iagree.“Never.”

Butevenstill,aswebaskintheafterglowofmakinglove,therumblingsofmycravingscomeback.

Theywindtheirwayoutofmygut,outoftheblacknessandthevoid,andintomythoughts,mychest.

Isuckinairbecauseithitsmesohardyetagain,outoftheblue.

It’slikewindtakingthesailsofaship.Itgrabsholdandflies.

Itakeadeepbreath,andwilltheawfulnessaway,andhowcanIevenbefeelinglikethiswithmy

wifeinmyarms?I’venotneededtouseevenoncesinceI’vebeenwithher.She’sbeeneverythingI

needed.

Whyisthisrearingitsheadnow?

Iponderwhattodowhilewemakeourwaytothediningroomtoeat,andwesitsidebyside.Mila

gripsmythighbetweenbites,andherhandiswarmandmine.

Butshecan’tmakethecravinggoaway.

It’splantedinmyhead,anditwon’tleavemealone.

Ifeedmywifedessertwhilehidingmystruggle.Ilaughatherjokes,butIdon’tfeeltheamusement.

I’memptyinsideforthismoment,becauseallIcandoiscrave.

It’seatingatme.

Overwhelmingme.

Itmakesnosense.

LongafterMilaissleeping,tuckedsafelyintoourbed,Ifindmywaytomystudy.

It’sthemiddleofthenight,andIcan’tthinkaroundmyneedtouse.

Itcomesinwaves,bigwaves.

Idumptherestofthepillbottleintomyhand,andchewthemup,swallowingthebitternesswithout

flinching.

Ifeelinstantrelief,asthegrounduppowderentersmybloodstreamthroughmystomach,andIclose

myeyes,lettingitdulltheneed.

Theneedisamonster,andIjustmadeabloodoffering.

Itwillbequietnow,foralittlewhile.

Ifallasleeponthesofainmystudy.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

ila

Iwakewithastretch,thesunonmyface,andPaxisgone.

Iknowthisbecausemyfingersbrushagainstcoolsheets,insteadofhiswarmbody.

Iglanceattheclock.Eighto’clock.He’satwork.Hedidn’twakeme,thatrascal.

Ileisurelyshowerandblow-drymyhair,andthentextMaddy.

WhattimeshouldIcomegetZu?

Sheanswersimmediately.CanIbringherhomeafterlunch?

Ok,Ianswer.

She’sprobablytakinghershoeshoppingagain.

MystomachgrowlsandIdecidethebabyneedstoeat.Imakemywaydownthehalltothekitchen,

butonmyway,IpassPax’sstudy,andthereismovementinside.

Pausinginthedoorway,IseeNatashahoveringabovePax,givinghimaglassofwaterandpills.

“Whatthehell?”

Ididn’tmeantosoundsosharp,butseriously.

TheybothlookupatmeandPax’seyesarebloodshot.

“I’msorry,babe.Icouldn’tsleeplastnightandIfellasleepinhere.Natashajustbroughtmesome

aspirin.”

“Whycouldn’tyousleep?”Iaskcuriously,practicallynudgingpastNatashatoexaminehim.Iputmy

handonhisforehead.“Youdon’thaveafever,butyoulookrough.”

“Idon’tknow,’hetellsme,buthe’stroubled.Icanseeitinhishazeleyesandtheyaresogreenright

now.That’swhathappenswhenhe’stroubled.They’regreenasmoss,likeamurkypond,hidingthingsin

theirdepths.

“Natasha,canyouexcuseusforaminute?Iask.

“Ofcourse,”sheexitsimmediately.

“What’shappening?”Iaskmyhusband,sittingnexttohim.“You’resleepinginyourstudy,you’relate

forwork.”Iglanceatthebar,andthereisascotchbottleout,andausedtumbler.“Andyouseemtobe

drinkingalot.”

“I’mjuststressed,babe,”hetellsmeandheissoearnest,sogenuine,butevenstill…there’s

something.Ifeelit.

“Nolies,”Itellhim.“Youpromisedmethatonce.Youpromisednevertolietomeagain.

Remember?”

“Ofcourse,”heanswerssharply.“OfcourseIdo.”

“Thenwhyareyoulying?”Iasksimply.

Hisfacecontortsandhishandclenchesinhislap.Aveinpulsesinhistemple,theonethatpopsout

whenhe’sfurious.

“I’mnotlying,”hesnaps,andhe’ssuddenlysoangry.“Whywouldyouaccusemeofsomethinglike

that?”

Hissuddenangerseemsoutofproportionforthecurrentsituation.Istareathim,hesitant.Idon’t

knowwhattosay.

“Youfeeldifferent,”Isayfinally.“Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit.You’reedgyrightnow.Likea

cagedlion.”

Iwait,andhesighs.

“Mykneehurts,”hetellsmefinally.Reluctantly.“Itneedssurgery.”

Igasp,andstareathim,andhenods.

“It’sok.Ijustdidn’twanttoworryyouuntilyouwereoutofthewoodswiththebaby.Idon’twant

youtoworry.It’lljustbequicksurgeryandthey’llfixmeup.”

“Andinthemeantime,you’reinexcruciatingpain?”Iguess.Helooksaway.

“Abit.”

“Pax!OhmyGod.Thiswassounnecessary.Youdidn’thavetokeepthisfromme.IsweartoGod,

sometimesyou’reprotectivetoafault.Youneedtomakeanappointmenttodayforsurgery.Nomore

delays.I’mfine.Doit.”

Hestaresatme,searchingmyface,andthenhefinallynods.

“Ifyou’resure.”

“OhmyGod,”Iswear.“Doit.”

“Ok.”He’ssheepishnow,andI’mglad.

“Seriously.Ican’tbelieveyoudidthis.”

“Calmdown,”hetellsme,standing.He’swobbly,andhiskneegivesout.Hetriesagain,thistime

successful.

“Areyouevensupposedtobewalkingonit?”Ieyeitdoubtfully.

Hedoesn’tanswer,whichisanswerenough.

“Calltoday,”Itellhimfirmly.

“Iwill.”

Hedressesandheadstowork,andIhavebreakfast.

WhenNatashacomestoclearmydishes,shepauses.

“I’msosorryIdidn’ttellyouabouthisknee,”sheapologizes.“Buthedidn’twantyoutoknow.”

Myheadsnapsupatthis.

“Youknew?”

Shenods.“Yeah.He’sbeenhavingtroublesleeping,andI’vecaughthimupandaroundthehouseat

night.He’sbeeninalotofpain.Buthedidn’twanttoworryyou.”

Natashaknew.

Forsomereason,thisbothersme.HetoldNatasha,ourhousekeeper,butnotme?Thatseemsvery,

verywrong.Very,veryunlikehim.

“Well,thankyoufortakingcareofhim,”Ifinallysaylimply.Shenodsagain,pleasedwithherself.

“Ofcourse.Itookcareofhisgrandfather,andI’mhappytotakecareofMr.Tate,aswell.”

ExcepttakingcareofMr.Tateismyjob.ButIdon’tpointthatout.

Instead,Ifiddlearoundthehouse,messingaroundinmynewstudio,tryingtoarrangemysupplies,but

myagitationoverthesituationblocksmycreativity.Ican’tseemtofocusondrawingorpainting.

WhenMaddycomesin,shebringsthemail,andhandsittoNatasha,whowhisksitawayforsorting.

ThereisasmallboxaddressedtoPaxontop,butit’sgonebeforeIseewhatitis.

Mydaughterdistractsmeanyway.

“Mama!”sheshrieks,throwingherselfintomyarmsandholdingoutherfoot.“Lookatmynew

boots!”

“Iknewit,”Irollmyeyesatmysister.“Mad,Iseriouslyamrunningoutofroomtoputhershoes.”

“Inthishouse?”she’sdoubtful.“Youshouldmakeherawalk-inclosetoutofaroomyoudon’tuse.

That’severygirl’sdream.”

Ichuckle.“Maybeit’syourdream.”

“It’severygirl’sdream,”sheassuresme.“Youshoulddoit.You’dbeasuper-herotoher.”

“I’masuper-herotoheralready,”Itellher.“Untilsheturnsthirteenorso.”

Wevisitforawhile,andMaddyfinallystaresatme.“What’swrongwithyou?Youshouldbeon

CloudNinesinceyoucangetupandaroundnow.”

Ipause,andconsider,andfinallytellhermyconcernsaboutNatasha.

“Idon’thaveanygroundsforit,”Ifinishupfinally.“Ijustfeeluncomfortablewithheraroundmy

husband.Ifeellike…Idon’tknow.”

Maddynodsseriously.“I’vehonestlyhadabadfeelingaboutherallalong,”shesaysandthankGod

forsisterswhoalwaysunderstand.“Ireallyhave.There’ssomething…Ican’tputmyfingeronit.But

whatwomanheragewantstobethehousekeepertoanoldmanlikePax’sgrandfather?Imean,shedoted

onhim.Iwonderiftherewassomethingthere?”

Ishudderatthat.“Surelynot.”ButthenIthinkonit.“Maybeshewantedhismoney?”

Maddynods.“Maybe.Andwhohashismoneynow?”

I’msilent.Paxdoes.Wedo.

“Sonofabitch,”Ifinallymutter.Maddynodsagain.

“Moneybringsproblemswithit,”shesays,andIhavetoagree.

“Butwecouldbewrongabouther,”Imusealoud.

“Wecouldbe,”mysisteragrees.“ButIdon’tthinkso.Wehaveinstinctsforareason.Tousethem.”

“Wecan’tfireher,”Itellher.“Wehavetokeepheronstaffforfiveyears.”

“Butyoucouldmoveherawayfromyou,”Maddysuggests.“Justthinkaboutit.”

“Iwill.”

AndIwill.Ihatetobeunfair,andIhopeI’mnotbeingunfairrightnow.Butmylifeismylife,andno

onewillprotectitbutme.

Atthismoment,atextcomesinfromPax.

Iloveyou.

Ismileandtexthimback.Iloveyou,too.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Isitatmydesk,andfinally,Ilookupmydoctor’snumber.

Ispeakwiththenurse.

“I’dliketoschedulethesurgeryformykneeplease.”

“Whenlooksgoodforyou,Mr.Tate?”

“Theearlier,thebetter.It’scausingabitofpain.”

Asin,excruciating,debilitatingpain.

She’ssilentasshelooksthroughtheschedule.

“Well,Dr.Talbotisonvacationforthenexttwoweeks,butDr.Othamcoulddothesurgeryifyou’d

like?”

“Uh.Idon’tknowDr.Otham,”Itellher.

“Iassureyou,he’squitegood.Hecouldfityouinnextweek.”

“ButifIwaitonemoreweekafterthat,Icanhavemyregulardoctor?”

Shechecks.

“Yes.Dr.Talbotcandoittheweekhereturns.”

“Let’sdothat.”

“Ok.”Sheputsmeonthecalendar,andIputitonmine.WhenIhangon,Icountthedays.

Eighteendays.

Icallherback.

“CanIhavesomemusclerelaxerstohelpwiththepaininthemeantime?”

Shepauses.“Musclerelaxerswon’thelpwiththis,Mr.Tate.”Thehelltheywon’t.Iwanttotellher

I’vebeentakingthem,butdon’t.“AndI’mnotsure,givenyourhistory,thatDr.Talbotwillwantto

prescribeyouanythingstronger.I’llcheckwithhimandgetbacktoyou.”

“Don’tbother.”

Ihanguponher.Myhistory?WhythefuckhadIbeensohonestinfillingoutmymedicalhistory

whenIbecameapatient?They’rejustusingmyhonestyagainstme,andnowI’mstuckwithpain.

Thepainswellsastheminutespass,andeventually,it’sallIcanthinkabout.Rubbingitdoesn’thelp.

I’mdrowninginanoceanofmisery.Thehairatthebackofmyneckisdampwithtryingtocontrolit.It’s

notworking.

Finally,withshakinghands,IpullouttheemptypillbottlefromwhereI’dstuckitinmydesk.WhyI

hadn’tthrownitaway,Idon’tknow.

Iexaminethelabel.

Tworefillsremaining.

IwonderifNatashawouldmind?

Itexther.

Sheanswersimmediately.Ofcoursenot!Gorightahead.Icanpickthemup,ifyouwant.

Thatwouldbegreat,Itellher.CanyoudropthemoffwithSasha?

BecauseIneedthemnow.

Fucktheir“withyourhistory”bullshit.It’sbeenfiveyearssinceI’veusedanythingatall.Theydon’t

knowshitaboutme.

Ican’tfocuswellonwork,butItry.

Acouplehourslater,Sashacomesinwiththepills,andshebringsmeagiantgelice-pack,too.

“Natashasuggestedit,”shetellsmewhenIlookatitstrangely.“Ihaveanotheroneinthefreezer

whenthisonegetswarm.Justyellatme.”

“Thanks,”Itellher,myfingerswrappingaroundthenewpillbottle.Theyaremorepreciousthangold

tomerightnow.

Iamantsyforhertoleave,andwhenshedoes,Iswallowfourpills,afterchewingthem.Itmakes

themhitmybloodstreamfaster,andGod,whentheydo…sweetrelief.

Itdoesn’ttakethepainawaycompletely,butittakestheedgeoffandmakesitbearable.

Anhourlater,Milatexts.

Didyoucallthedoctor?

Yes,babe.Surgeryinacoupleofweeks.

ThankGod!Sheanswers.Iloveyou.

It’sonlybeenanhour,butItakeanotherpill.

I’vegottopacemyself,Iknow,buttheyhelp.Theyreallydo.Theyseemtomakemymindfuzzy,too,

andforsomereason,rightnow,Ilikethat.Italsodistractsmefromthepain.

Iputthebottleaway,anddon’tevenlookatitagainuntilIleavefortheday.

Itakeanotherpillinthecar.

Thatleavetwenty-fourinthebottle.Andthenonemorerefillofthirtypills.

Imakeamentalnote.

Thisblown-outkneebusinessisno-joke.

InoticethatRogerisn’ttakingmetowardhome,andIaskhimaboutit.

“Oh,sorrysir.Yourwifeinstructedmetotakeyoutoherinstead.”

“Andwhereisshe?”Ifeelstupidhavingtoask.

“She’swaitingforyoufordinner.”

“So,it’sasurprise,then?”I’mwrynow.Mywifelovesrandomsurprises.

“Yes,sir.”

Isitbackandwait,andit’snottooterriblylongbeforewe’repullingthroughthegatesofaparkonthe

outsideoftown.Thecarglidessilentlyalongthequietstreetuntilwestopinfrontofaglisteninglake.

ThereareJapaneselanternshungfromheretothewater,whereafancytentissetup,andmywife

waitsbythedoors.Iknowshedidallofthisherself.It’snotlikehertoaskthestaff.SosheandMaddy

must’veworkedallafternoon.

Notonlythat,butshelooksstunninginablackcocktaildress,simpleandsnug.Itfitsherperfectly.

Herhaircascadesdownherback,andIcanseehersmilefromhere.

I’malreadygrinningasIwalkdownthesoftlylitpath,andwhenIreachmywife,Ikissherhard.

“Welcometodinner,”shetellsmesoftly,andmyhandsglideupunderherdresstoherperfectass.

“Ah-ah-ah.Notyet.First,Ifeedyou.”

Shepullsaway,andIexaminethetent.Silkdrapeseverything,andcushionscoverthefloor.Itlooks

likesomethingoutofamiddle-easternharem,fancyandexpensive.It’sinviting,andallIreallywantto

doislaymywifedownonthesilkandfuckher.

But.

Idon’t.

Instead,Isitonthecushionsandeatwithher.

Amagnificentpicnicislaidinfrontofus,andItrynottoshowthepainI’mfeelingfromgettingdown

ontheground.Idon’twanthertoknowtheextentofit.

Hanginglanternswithcandlesinthemsurroundus,andthewholethingissomethingoutofamovie.

“Wheredidyougetthisidea?”IaskherasIbiteintoahotbutteredroll.

“AbookI’mreading,”sheanswers.“Doyoulikeit?”

“Yes.”Iglanceoverhershoulderandthereisabed-shapedareabehindher.“Ican’thelpbutnotice

thereisabedhere.”

“Um-hmm,”shenods.“Wehavetohavedessert,don’twe?”

Myheartswellsthreesizes.“Youknowmewell.”

“Iknowthatwhileyoutoleratechocolatecake,you’dmuchratherlickmefordessert,”sheagrees.“I

doknowyou.”

Ican’teatmydinnerfastenoughknowingwhatawaitsme.I’mnotevenworriedthatapasserbywill

hearthenoisecomingfromthetent.Tobefair,I’veneverworriedmuchaboutwhatothersmightthink.

IstandupcarefullywhileMilaisstilleating.Iwantherattentiontobefocusedelsewhere,ratherthan

onmytroubles.Imanage,andwhileI’matit,Iuntiethesilkcordholdingopenthedoor.Itcloses,andwe

haveinstantprivacy.

Steppingcarefully,Iheadtothebedarea.

Milafollows,andwhenI’monmyback,shesmiles,strippingherdressoff.

She’snotwearingabraorunderwear.

Isuckinmybreathandstareatherandsheissobeautifulthatmyguthurtswithit.

“I’mgoingtoblindfoldyounow,”shesayssweetly,pullingablacksatinscarfoutofacushion.

Iraiseaneyebrow.“SoIcan’tseeyou?Dislike.”

Shesmiles.“Oh,you’lllike.Trustme.”

“Ihavenodoubt.”

Obediently,Itiethescarfaroundmyeyes.

“Canyousee?”Mila’svoiceislow,nexttomyear,andIcanfeelhernipplesgrazingmyarm.Ireach

outtothecupthem,andshepullsaway.

“Youdidn’tthinkitwouldbethateasy,didyou?Liestill,babe.”

Shetiesmyfeet—eachfoottosomething.Andthenmyhands—abovemyhead.

“Hmm.Whatdoyouhaveplannedforme?”Iask.“WillIbegaggednext?

Shechuckles.“No.Ineedyourmouthfreeandclear.”

Shestraddlesmyhips,andthemoistnessbetweenherlegsisnexttomyskin.It’senoughtospringmy

dicktolife,anditpushesagainsther,hotandhard.

“Awww,youlikeme,”shepointsoutwithalaugh.

“Letmeshowyouhowmuch,”Isuggest.Shelaughsagain.

“Ingoodtime.Fornow,Ihavesomethingforyoutosuck.”

Shepressesherfullbreastsagainstmymouth,andeagerly,Ipullhernipplesin,suckingatthe

pinkness,licking,lapping,thensuckingagain.It’sjusthowshelikesit,andeventhoughI’mtheonewho

isbound,she’stheonewhoismoaning.

“Youlike?”Iaskagainstherlips,andmyvoiceishusky.Iwantheralready.Mywifeknowsjustwhat

todotomakemecrazy.

“Oh,Ido,”sheassuresme.“Butyou’renotfinishedyet.Youhavetoworkforyourdinner.”

Shestraddlesmyface,andhermuskinessisallaroundme,andIbreatheitin.She’swetandwarm

andGod,she’sdelicious.Ilickather,makingcircleswithmytonguebeforeIplungeitbackinsideofher.

Ifuckherwithit,overandover,licking,sucking,fucking.EventhoughIcan’tsee,Iknowshe’slimp.I

canfeelit.

Iwanttocupherasswithmyhands,butI’mrestrained.Ichafeatmyties,buttheywon’tbudge.Mila

laughs.

“Nope.”

Sheun-straddlesme,andthenshe’sgone…butshe’sbacksoonenough.Hermouthisrunningupand

downthelengthofmyhardshaft,andIsuckinadeepbreath.

“Jesus.”

Shebreathesontome,hotandmoist,andmydickthrobshardinsidehermouth.Sheglidesalongthe

shaft,thenslipstheheadintohermouth,suckingsuckingsucking,andthenshe’soutagain…andlickingat

myballs.Shesucksthemlightly,justhowIlikeit,andgoodlord,Idon’tthinkI’veeverwantedtobe

insidehermorethanIdoatthismoment.

“Please,babe,”Itellher.“Pleaseletmebeinsideofyou.”

Andjustlikethat,shecarefullystraddlesmeagain,carefulnottojarmyknee,andI’mplungingdeep

insideofher.Shetakesallofmeonthefirstplunge,andIgroanwiththepureecstasyofit.There’s

nothinglikethatfirstplunge,hotandwetandtight.

Iswallowhard,andsherocksgently,thenmoreandmoreforcefully…quickerandquicker,andthen

shegivesmesweetrelease.

IgroanasIspurtinsideofher,andhermusclesclench,asthoughshe’stryingtosuckitallup,tryingto

takeitallandkeepit.

“God,”Ifinallysay.“You’resofuckinghot,babe.”

“I’mgladyouthinkso,”shesaysinsatisfactionandsheuntiesmyblindfold.

“Areyouok?”Iaskherquickly.“Noblood?”

Shenods.“I’mfine.Noblood.”

Reliefrushesthroughme,andInoticethatmykneeisthrobbingagain.I’dstrainedagainstitmorethan

I’dthoughtbecauseIwasdistractedbytheecstasyofsex.Nowthatit’sfinished,thepainisemerging,

worsethanever.

Sonofabitch.

“Let’sgetyouhome,”shetellsmeassheuntiesmyhandsandfeet.

Isitup.“Don’tweneedtocleanthisup?”

“No.Natashaisdoingit.Idon’thaveenoughtimewithyou.Idon’twanttowasteitcleaning.”

Ican’tbelieveshe’sactuallylettingsomeoneelsedosomethingforher,butIcan’tfaultherlogic.It

seemsthatlatelywejustdon’thaveenoughtimetogether.

WemakeourwaytoherSUV,andIpause.

“Babe?You’llhavetodrive.Ican’treallydriverightnow.”

Milaglancesatmyknee.“Holyshit,Ididn’teventhinkofthat.Areyouokrightnow?”

“Ofcourse,”Ilie.“Ijustcan’treallypushdowntheaccelerator.Otherthanthat,I’mfine.”

Iopenherdriver’ssidedoorforher,andsheclimbsin.

AsIlimparoundtheback,Itaketwomorepills.

I’mdowntotwenty-two.

IchewthembeforeIgetintothetruck.

Whenwearrivehome,Istumbleonthefrontstep.Mykneebuckles,andalmostgivesout,andMila

grabsmewithagasp.

“Ithinkmaybeyoushouldusecrutches.Atleastuntilsurgery.”

“It’snotabadidea.Thedamnthinggivesoutwheneveritwantsto.”Plus,it’salmostimpossibleto

bearweight…anditgetsworseeveryday.

“I’llhaveNatashastopatadrugstoreonherwayhome.”

Inod.“Thanks.”

SheheadstopeekinonZu,whoshouldbepeacefullysleepinginherbed,andIstopinmystudy.I

pouraglassofscotch,andasI’mdrinkingit,Inoticethemailonmydesk.Ihateforittopileup,soIsit

downtolookthroughit.

Aboxisontop.It’ssmallandwrappedinbrownparcelpaper.Thereisnoreturnaddress.

Intrigued,Iunwrapit,andopenthetop.

Afoldednoteisinside.

Keepthis.

Beneathit,thereisaloadedsyringeofheroin.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

shoveitinmytopdeskdrawer,tryingtogetitoutofmysight.Justlookingattheneedlesendsadeep

cravingpulsingthroughme.Idon’tknowwhy,anditscaresthefuckoutofme.

ButIdon’thavetimetothinkonit.

BecauseMilaisscreamingmyname.

IscrambleasfastIcanfrombehindmydesk,andshe’sburstingintomyoffice,hereyeswild.

“Zuzu’sgone,Pax.She’sgone!”

“Whatdoyoumean?”

“Someonetookher!”

Shockslamsintome,intomygut,andMilahasapieceofpaperpressedintoherhand.

“Whatisthat?”IaskandIcan’tfeelmytongue.Shethrustsitatme.

Xmarksthespot.

Belowit,there’saphonenumber.

Sonofabitch.OhmyGod.

Ican’tbreathe,Ican’tthink.Ijustpickupmyphoneandcallthenumber.

“Hello?”

Someoneanswers,andIcan’ttellwhobecausetheirvoiceisdisguised.It’sgravellyandmechanical,

anditsendschillsdownmyspine.

“Whereismydaughter?”Iaskabruptly.

Thepersonlaughsandtheysoundlikeadevil.“She’shere.Look.”

Myphonevibratesinmyhand,andthereisapictureofZu,asleepinthebackseatofacar.Shehasher

tigerwithher.

Iamrelievedforonebriefsecond.Atleastsheisalive.

“Whatdoyouwant?”

“Thereareacouplethings,”thevoicetellsme.“First,youcannotcallthepolice,orshe’sdead.Got

it?”

MyheartispulsinghighinmythroatandIcanbarelymakemyvocalchordswork.

“Yes.”

“Next,youwillgetonyourplane,andyouwillflytoAngelBay.Toyourhomeonthelake.”

“Why?”

“Don’taskquestions.Youwillgoalone.”

“Ok.”

“Milawillnotcallthepolice.Ifshedoes,Iwillkillher,too.Youwilltaketheboxwithyou.Theone

youjustfoundonyourdesk.”

I’msilentandshocked,andhowdidheknow?

“Sayyesorno.”

Imovemylips.“Yes.”

“Good.Idobelieveyourdaughterwillmakeitthroughthisjustfine.Allyouhavetodoisbehave.”

I’msilent,andIcan’tbreathe.Milaisclingingtomyarm,tryingtolisten,butshecan’thearanything.I

seethefrustrationanddesperationinhereyes.

“Saythatyou’reonyourway.Yourplaneiswaitingforyou.”

“I’monmyway.”

“Saythatyouwon’tcallthepolice.”

“Iwon’tcallthepolice.Don’thurtmydaughter.”

“Thenbehave.”

Thephonegoesdead,andMilaisstaringatme,andIstandfrozenwiththephoneinmyhand.

“What’shappening?”shebegs.“What’shappening?”

“LeroyEllison,”Ifinallymanagetosay.“He’sarrangedthissomehow.IhavetogotoAngelBay.I

thinkthat’swheretheyaretakingher.”

“Why?”Milacriesout.“I’mcallingthepolice.”

Shegrabsatmyphone,butIdon’tallowit.“Youcan’t,”Itellhersimply.“He’llkillyouandZuzuif

youdo.Ihavetodoashesays.Hehasourbaby,Mi.”

“Youcan’tgo,”shetellsmefirmly.“He’llkillyou.”

“IfIdon’t,he’llkillZuzu.Iknowhe’lldoit.”

Miladropsintothechair,herlegsunabletoholdher.Herfaceisdrainedofallcolor.Igrabherand

pullhertome.

“Ihavetogo.Iwillmakethisok,Mila.IsweartoGod.”

Shenodsandsheiswordless.

“Please,rest.Youhavetothinkofthebaby.Please,Mila.I’mgoingrightnow.It’llbeok.Iswearit.”

Ikissherhardandfast,andIgrabtheboxoutofthedesk.

ThenI’moutthedoor.ThereissomuchadrenalinepumpingthroughmethatIdon’tevenfeelthepain

inmylegasIdriveDangertotheairport.Ican’tthink,Icanbarelybreathe.AllIcanthinkaboutisthat

pictureofmydaughterinthebackofastranger’scar.

Herlifedependsonme.

Ihavetobehave.

Justashe’dsaid,myplaneiswaitingattheairport,readytodepart.Iclimbthesteps,andwetakeoff

withinminutes.

Theflightistwohours.Milacallsmeandtextsmeseveraltimes.

“Haveyouheardanything?”sheasksme.

“No.Pleasejuststayinside,babe,”Itellher.“Don’tgoout.”

“Ok.Natashaisback.Shehasyourcrutches.”

Milabreaksdownintotears,andIconsoleherthebestIcan.

“Babe,don’tcry.I’llgether.It’llbeok.Hewantsme.NotZuzu.It’llbeok.”

“Nothingcanhappentoyou,”shecriesout.“Please,Pax.God.Ican’tbewithoutyou.Notnow.”

“Youwon’t,”Itellherfirmly.“CallMaddy.HaveherandGabecomeoverandsitwithyou.Setthe

alarm.Ok?”

“Ok,”sheagrees.“Pleasebecareful.”

“Iwill.”

Shehangsup,andI’veneverfeltmorealone,morescared,thanIfeelrightnow.I’msuspendedabove

theclouds,inaplanethatisflyingmetowardsmyoldhome,andhopefullytowardmydaughter.

I’mtheonlyonewhocanfixthis.

Iknowthat.

Whenweland,Iwalktowardtheairportandinside,thereisadriverwithmynameonasign.

“Sir?”heasksasIstopinfrontofhim.

“I’mPaxTate.Whosentyou?”

He’sconfused.“Someonesetupyourtransportationfromtheairport.Arewenotneeded?”

“No,youare,”Itellhim.“Let’sgo.”

IdirecthimtowardAngelBay,andwithinthehour,we’repullingupinfrontofmylakehouse.

Hedrivesaway,andI’maloneinfrontofthedarkhouse.

Istareatitforamoment.Themodernloft-stylehomeisperchedonthetipofbluffs,andIdon’tknow

whatI’dexpected.PerhapsthatZuzuwouldcomerunningoutintomyarms.

Butshedoesn’t.

Allisdark.

Myphonerings.

“Goinside.”

“Where’smydaughter?”

“Goinside.”

Iunlockthedoor,andeverythingisexactlylikewe’dleftitthelasttimewewerehere.Itisspotless,

andwithoutafamilyinit,itislifeless.

“Gositonthecouchinfrontofthewindows,”thevoicetellsme.“Lookoutatthelake.”

Ilookacrossthewater,andacouplehundredyardsout,thereisaboat.Icanseethelightbobbingon

thewaves.

“Yourdaughterisoutherewithme.”

“Proveit.”

Thereisanotherphoto.Thistime,someone’swatchisintheframe,andsomeone’shandisholdinga

knifetomydaughter’ssleepingneck.Thewatchreadsthecurrenttime.

“Don’thurther,”Itellthem.“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Doyouwantmoney?”

Helaughs.“Notrightnow.Rightnow,Iwantyoutoopenthatbox.”

Thesyringe.

Myguttightens.“No.I’llpayyouwhateveryouwant.”

“That’snotwhatIwantrightnow,”thevoicesays.“Rightnow,Iwantyoutotakeoutthatsyringe,and

pumpitintoyourvein.Allofit.”

“Why?”Itdoesn’tmakeanysense.Unlessitislacedwithsomethingtokillme.Orperhapstoinfect

mewithsomethingterrible.

“Itisn’tforyoutoquestionme,”thevoicesays.“Iholdthecards.”

“HowdoIknowyouhaven’tinfectedtheneedlewithsomething?”Iask,butI’malreadypullingitout.

Idon’thaveachoice.Mydaughterhasaknifetoherthroat.

“Youdon’t.Injectit.”

Idon’thesitate.Irollupmysleeve,andpiercemyskinwiththeneedle.Theheroinfloodsintomy

blood,andIfeelthesting,andthewarmth,anditisallveryfamiliar,andlordhelpme,itfeelsgood.

Familiar.Comforting.Warm.

“Betternow?”

“Nowwhat?”Imanagetosay,eventhoughmytongueisthick,andIlookaroundforthecamera.There

mustbeacamerahere.He’swatchingme.

“Now,gointoyourbedroom.Thereareinstructions.Leaveyourcellphoneonthecouch.”

IamwoodenasIentermyroom,andfrozenasIturnonalamp.Truetohisword,thereareboxeswith

notesonthebed.Atleastthirtyboxes.EachnotesaysUSEME,withatimestampedbeneathit.

Iopenthefirstbox.Itsinstructionssaytouseitatoneam.

It’sasmallvialofcocaine,andamirrorwithastrawtapedtotheedge.

You’vegottobefuckingkiddingme.

Ispinaroundtogobackouttothecouch,andthedoorisnowlocked.

He’sinsidethehousewithme.

Ipoundonthedoor,butthereisnoanswer.

Itrytobreakitdown,butitistoowellmade.It’sreinforcedbecausethat’showI’dwanteditback

whenIbuiltthehouse.BackwhenIdidn’twantdruggiestoburstinonmeinmysleep,becausethatwas

thekindofcompanyIusedtokeep.

Istrideacrosstheroom,andfindthatthewindowshavebeennailedshutfromtheoutside.

Whoeverthisis,they’vethoughteverythingthrough.

Isitonthebed.

Avideonurserymonitorisonthenightstand.Anoteistapedtoit.

Turnmeon.

Ido.

Agrainyblackandwhitepicturepopsuponthescreen,ofZuzu’sbedroomdownthehall.She’s

tuckedintothebedwithhertiger.She’slessthanahundredfeetfromme.

She’ssafe.

Fornow.

Ibreatheout,thenin,thenout.

She’ssafe.

She’sinthishouse.

ButIcan’tgetoutofthisfuckingroom.

Apaperispushedunderthedoor.

Ipickitup.

It’s1:00.Timeforyourmedicine.

Istareatthedoor.

Ican’tdothis.WhatiftheykillZuzuanyway?

Butwhatiftheydon’t?Avoicereasonswithmeinmyhead.Theydon’twantZuzu.Theywantme.It

doesn’tmatterwhathappenstomeaslongasIkeephersafe.

AslongasIbehave.

Isitonthebed,pulloutthemirror,anddothelineofcocaine.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

ila

IracebacktoZuzu’sroomtoseeifthereareanycluesthere,anythingatall,andthereisn’t.Herbedis

rumpledfromwhereherlittlebodyhadbeensleepinginit.Herwindowsareclosed,andIdon’tknow

howtheygotintothishouse.Itmakesmefeelvulnerable,outintheopen,andIgrabZu’sfavoriteblankie

andinhaleit.

Itsmellslikelittlegirl,andmyeyesfloodwithhottears.

She’soutthere,andshe’salone,andshe’sprobablycryingforme.God.Mystomachclenchesand

contracts,andIfeellikethrowingup.

Iglancearoundherroom,atthelittleteatableshe’dsetforteawithherteddybears,andthecastle

thatshe’dplayedprinceandprincessinjusttoday.Iwastheprincess,Paxwastheprince,andshewas

thebabywhowasmagic.

TearsstreamdownmyfaceandIcan’t.

Ican’t.

Ijustcan’t.

IreachformyphonetocallMaddy,andit’snotinmypocket.I’dleftitinPax’sstudy.

TakingZu’sblanket,Irushbackdownthehall,andwhenIgetthere,Natashaissittingatthedesk.Her

faceissolemn,herhairpulledintoatightbun.

“Lookingforthis?”sheholdsupmyphone.

“Yes,thankyou,”Ireachforit,butshepullsitback.

“No.Youcan’thaveit.”

I’mconfused,andbecauseI’msoaddledalready,ittakesaminutetoseethelookonNatasha’sface.

It’scold,perfunctory,andit’snotgood.

Shesmiles,aslowgrin.“Awww.You’regettingitnow.”

“You’reinonthis,”Isawslowly.“How…”

Myvoicetrailsoff.

Shesmilesagain.

“Letmetellyouastory.Comesitdown.”Shemotionstothetwochairsinfrontofthedeskand

hesitantly,Isitdown.“Thereyougo.Iwanttoshareastorywithyou.Willyoulisten?”

Idon’thaveachoice.Inod.

“Good.Therewasonceagirl.Let’scallherNatasha,shallwe?Shelivedadryexistence,goingto

collegeandthenworkingasanaccountant.Itwassoboring,solifeless.Andthen,oneday,shesawa

storyonthenews.Amanwasconvictedofkillingayoungmother,butitwasn’tthemanatall.Itwasher

ownsonwhodidit,yousee.Icouldseethekindlookinhiseyes,andIfeltsosorryforhim,thatthe

justicesystemhadfailedhimsomiserably.Whatcrimehadhecommitted,really?Otherthanfallinlove

withawomanandtrytoshowher?Hersonoverreactedandbumpedthetriggeranditwashisfaultshe

died.Notthekindman’s.SoIstartedwritinghimlettersinprison.”

IliterallyfeelmyeyeswidenasIrealizewhatshe’ssaying.

“Soyou’re…you’re…”

“Shhh,”shetellsme,andshe’slookingpastme,hergazeunfocused.“He’sawonderfulman,Mila.

He’ssokind,andsoforgiving.HetookhisadmirationofSusannaalittletoofar,andheshouldn’thave

comeintotheirhouse.Heknowsthat.Butthat’sallhedidthatwaswrong.Paxistheonewhopulledthe

trigger.NotLeroy.”

“Paxwassevenyearsold,”Isayslowly.“Leroybrokeintothehousewithagun,andforcedSusanna

togivehimoralsexinfrontofPax.”

Natashalooksupatmesharply.

“Youdon’tknowwhathappened.Youweren’tthere.”

“Maybenot,”Itellher.“ButIwaswithPaxatthetherapist’sofficewhenheremembered.Iwaswith

himwhenherememberedaloud,everythingthatLeroydidthatday.HecarvedPax’shandwithanX.Did

youknowthat?Hetriedtokillhim,buthesaidhecouldn’tkillakid.”

“See?”Natashaistriumphantnow,andhereyeshaveastrangelightinthem.“See?Hecan’tkillakid,

becauseheisakindman.Hejustcan’tdoit.”

“IshetheonewhoarrangedforZuzutobetaken?”Iaskher.“Didheescape?Doeshehaveher?”

She’sdisdainfulnow.“Ofcoursenot.He’sstillwrongfullyimprisoned.AndIarrangedit.”

She’scrazy.I’vealwayswonderedaboutthewomenwhowrotetoinmatesafterthey’dbeen

imprisoned.AndNatashaiscrazy.Shehadjustdoneaverygoodjobofhidingit.

“HowdidyoucometoworkforWilliam?”Iaskher.“Wasthatpartoftheplan?”

“Everythingispartoftheplan,”sheanswersandshe’sproudofthat.“Originally,wethoughtwe’d

hurtPaxthroughWilliam,butthenwesawabetterway.OnceZuzuwasborn.”

“You’vebeenplanningthisforsolong?”I’mbreathless.

“Ofcourse.Master-planstaketime,”shesniffs,asthoughI’mtheidiothere.

“IsZuzuallright?”Iaskcalmly,andIdon’tknowhowI’mremainingcalm.It’slikemybloodis

frozenasitrushesthroughmyheart,andmydaughterisouttheresomewhereandthesepeoplearecrazy.

“Ofcourse,”shetellsme.“IthoughtwealreadyestablishedthatLeroydoesn’twanttohurtakid?”

“Thenwhatareyouplanningondoingwithher?”Iask.“She’sinnocent.Shehasn’tdoneathingto

anyone.”

“Ofcourseshehasn’t,”Natashaagrees.“She’sfine.AndshewillstayfineaslongasPaxdoeswhat

weask.”

“Andwhatareyouaskingofhim?”Iask.Myhandsshakeagainstthearmsofthechair.

Natashasmiles.

“Onlyforhislife.That’snottoomuch,isit?”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Lightshinesinfromthebedroomwindows,andIstareatitforasecond.Thesunraysfilterthroughthe

air,andthedustmotesspiralandIreachoutahandtotouchthem.

Ihaven’tsleptallnight.

Doingfourlinesofcokewilldothattoaperson.IdoubtI’llsleepfordays.

Throughthemonitor,Ihearmydaughtersinging,throughmycloseddoorandhers,andIrelaxmytight

muscles.She’sstillhere.She’sstillalive,andthankfully,fromthesoundsofit,shedoesn’tknowthe

dangershe’sin.

ThankGod.

Istraightenmylegandadjustmyback.

I’msittingonthefloor,pressedtothewall,anditisholdingmeup.Thecoolnessofitbleedsintomy

skin,andIsoakitup.Iconcentrateonit,becauseitgroundsmeinthismoment,andkeepseverythingreal.

Temperatureisreal.

Thewallisreal.

Focusonwhatisreal,Itellmyself.Zuzuisreal.Milaisreal.

Mila.God.She’sprobablysoworried.Iheardmyphoneringnumeroustimes,andthenIthinkitwas

turnedoff.Ihaven’thearditfromhours,andIknowMilawouldn’tjuststopcalling.Notifshewasable.

Lord,thethoughtofherbeingunableturnsmybloodcold.

Butthat’snothappening,Itellmyself.Theydon’twanther.Theywantme.

Apaperisslippedbeneaththedoor.

Iopenit.It’stime.

Istareattheboxes.Idon’tfeelthepaininmyleganymore.Thedrugshavedefinitelydulledallofmy

senses.TheideathatIusedtolivelikethis…it’ssoforeigntome.It’slikelivingthroughafog,notreally

livingatall.

Iopenthebox,andamsurprisedtoseeclearcapsulesfilledwithwhitepowder.Idon’tknowwhat

theyare.PCP,maybe?Idon’tbotherworryingaboutit.

Iswallowthem.

Withinminutes,I’mswearing,andmyvisionisblurred.DefinitelyPCP.Myskinstartscrawling,there

areantsonit,andIfighttheurgetoscratchthem.

It’saside-effect,andtherearenoants.Iknowthat.

Yet,attheminutestickpast,it’shardtoknowanything.

Everythingbecomessubjective.Everythingisagrayarea.Eventhesoundsofmydaughterfadeaway

andIcan’tfocusonheranymore.I’vegotenoughdrugspumpingthroughmyveinsthatIcan’tevenseeher

faceormywife’s,evenwhenItrytoimaginetheminmyhead.

Leroyisgoodatthis.He’splannedoutexactlyhowmuchdrugshecanforcemetotakewithoutme

dying.He’sdraggingitout,loadingmeup,thenbringingmebackdownwithheroin.

Hewantstomakemesuffer.

Outofthecornerofmyeye,Iseethings.Iseemovements,andshadows,allmovingalongthewalls

andwhileIknowtheyaren’treallythere,Ican’thelpbutcheck.I’mlosingit.

IknowI’mlosingit.

BeforeI’mcompletelygone,Itrytobreakthedoordownonelasttime.I’mastrongguy.Iknowthat.I

don’tmakeadentinthedoor.Ithinkit’sbeenreinforcedfromtheoutsidesomehow.

Itrytobreakthewindows.

Theydon’tbudge.They’vebeenreplacedwithshatter-proofglass.He’sthoughtofeverything.

Sonofabitch.

Islumptothefloor.I’mnotgivingup.

Ilookatthevideomonitor.

Zuzuisplayingbyherself,combingthehairononeofherdolls.Herdoorisclosed,andI’msureit’s

locked,andIwonderwhatthey’vetoldheraboutherparents?Didtheytellherwe’dbetheresoon?

Ishoutthroughthedoor.

“Zuzu!Sweetheart!I’llbetheresoon.Don’tbeafraid.”

Shedoesn’tevenlookup.Shecan’thearme.

Iexaminethedooragain,andnowthatI’mreallylookingatit,Iseeit’snotthesamedoorIhad

installed.Ithinkthisonemightbesoundproof.

Itmustbe.Asatest,IbangonitashardasIcan.

Zuzudoesn’tlookup.Shecan’thearme.

Noonecanhearme.

Myscalpbuzzes,andItugatmyhair,andthenIforcemyhandtostill.It’sthePCP.It’sthePCP

makingmecrazy.I’vegottostop.

Iforcemyselftositontheflooragain,andIpickaspotonthewall,andIstareatit,forcingmybreath

tobeeven.In,thenout.In,thenout.One,two.One,two.Ifocusonthepattern.Ifocusonmyheartbeat.I

focusonmakingmybreathfillmylungsuplikeaballoon,thenforcingitallout,liketheballoonis

deflating.

IfIdothis,ifIkeepmymindactive,andfocused,Iwon’tloseit.Itwillbetetheredtome.

Itwillstillbemine.

Leroycan’ttakethat.

NotifIdon’tallowit.

Iglanceoutthewindowsforamoment,andthewavesarecrashingoutside,andIrealizesomething.

Ican’thearthem.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

ila

I’minmyroomwithoutaphone.

Natashatookit,andNatashahasagun,andhasshealwayshadaguninthishouse?Itmust’vebeen

hiddeninherbedroomandIdidn’tevenknowit.

Ishould’velistenedtomyinstinctsabouther.Iknewsomethingwasoff.Ijustthoughtshewasafter

myhusband.

AndIguessshewas,justnotinthewayIthought.

Ipace.Thedoorislocked,andIhavenomeansofcommunication.I’msureNatashaisansweringmy

textsfromMaddyasthoughsheisme,andnoonewilleverknowthatI’mbeinglockedupinhere.I’m

goingtobehereforever,oruntiltheydecidewhattodowithme.

Thereisaknock,thenthekeyisturned,andthedoorisopened.

Natashawalksinwithatray.

“Here.”

Sheputsitonthebed,andpicksuptheTVremote.“I’vegotsomethingforyou.”

Shemesseswiththetelevision,andthenablackandwhitepicturecomesup.Asurveillancevideo.

It’snothigh-definition,certainly,butit’sclearenough.

It’sPax.

Isuckinabreath,andmyhusbandissprawledonthefloorinaroom.

Lookingcloser,Idecideit’sourbedroominAngelBay.Therearesmallboxesonthebed,thesizeof

jewelryboxes.Someareneatlystacked,andsomeareopeninapile.

Paxisn’tmoving.

“Isheok?”Iaskquickly.Natashastaresatme.

“Youcanseeforyourself.”

Paxisstaringatnothing,hiseyesopen,andishealive?

God,ishealive?Myheartpoundsandpounds,threateningtoleapfrommychest.

Itouchthescreen,hishand,andhe’snotmoving.There’snosignsofbloodorastruggle.Hislegsare

long,hisbodyistaut,andhe’snotmoving.

“Comeon,baby,”Itellhim.“Pleasebealive.”

NatashalaughsandIshoveherawayfromme.

Shebackhandsmeacrosstheface,andmyheadsnapsaround.Itastebloodinmymouth,andmycheek

isonfire,andIrushather,mybloodboilingandredblurringmyvision.

Butthenthereissomethingcoldandmetalinmyside.

Shebroughthergun.

Fuck.

Ibackoff.

“Ishealive?”Iaskhercoldly.

Shegrins.

“Eat.Youneedtoforthebaby.”

“Asifyoucare.”

“Youshouldputacoolclothonthat,”shesuggests,gesturingatmymouth,andthenshe’sgoneagain.I

ignoremyswellinglip,andinsteadfocusonmyhusbandagain.

Ishishandinadifferentplace?DidhemovewhileIwasn’tlooking?

Isinktomyknees.

“Please,pleaseplease,”Ibeg.I’mnotsureifI’mbeggingGodorPax.

I’mfrozeninplaceandhedoesn’tmove.

“Please,God,”Imumble,withouttakingmyeyesoffthescreen.

He’ssocompletelystill.

Iwait.IignorethefoodtrayandIwatchmyhusbandforanysignoflife.Foranything.

Hegivesmenothing.

Foranhour,forsixtylong,frustratingminutes,Istareathim,andhedoesn’tmove.Butthen...then…

Somethingisslippedunderthedoorofhisroom.

Ipeeratit.

Itlookslikeafoldedpieceofpaper.

Paxblinks.

Heblinked.

TheknowledgeramsintomeandIcryfromrelief.He’snotdead.

He’snotdead.

Slowly,slowly,slowly,hereachesoverandtakesthepaper.Heunfoldsit.Hereadsit.

Hegetstohisfeet.

Hegrabsabox.

Hetakesasyringeout.Hetapsthebarrel,heflicksathisarm.

“No,”Ibreathe.“No.Pax,don’t!”

Heplungesitintohisarmwithoutblinkingagain.Hestaresatthewall,likearobotoramachine,and

hedoesn’tblink.Idon’tthinkhe’sfeelingathing.Hiseyesarewideopen.

Whenhe’sfinished,heputsitbackinthebox,andtossesitinapileofempties.Therearesomany

emptyboxes,andhadtheyallcontaineddrugs?

I’mstunned.I’mnumb.

Whatthehellishappening?

Whyisthishappening?

Paxsitsbackdownonthefloorinthesameplacehe’dbeen.Heresumesstaringatthewall,hiseyes

wideopenandunblinking.

Mychestquivers,myhandsshake.

He’snotfighting?

Thisisn’tlikehim.

Iscanhissurroundings.It’sdefinitelyourbedroom.It’sourbed,ournight-tables.Mygazestopson

thenight-table.Thenurserymonitoristhere,andthescreenison.

Something…somethinglookslikeit’smoving.ButIcan’tseeitclearlyenough.Italmostlookslike

theoutlineofasmallperson.Maybeachild.

IsitZuzu?

Please,God,Iprayagain.Please.I’llgiveyouanything.Takemylife,nottheirs.

Isinktothefloorandwatchthescreen.

It’stheonlythingIcando.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Timehasnomeaningnow.

Atsomepoints,itpassesslowly,andatothers,itpassesquickly.Italldependsonwhatisinthebox.

Thistime,itiscocaine.Forthefourthtimetoday.

Hehasplannedtheexactdrugsthatwillcountereachotheroutthroughouttheday…somespeedme

up,someslowmedown.They’recarefullyplannedtokeepmealive.Tokeepmegoing.Tokeepme

suffering.

“IsMilaalive?”Iaskwhenanoteisshovedunderthedoor.

Thereisnoanswer.Idoubttheycanhearme.

Thisnotealsotellsmetolookinthetopdresserdrawer.

Twoboxesofgranolabarsandadozenbottlesofwaterarethere.Iignorethem.I’mnothungry.My

heartisracingthough.ThecocainespeedsitupandI’mflyingandI’mnumb,andallofmyemotionsare

dulledlikeI’msinkinginamurkypond.

I’mworriedaboutZuzuandMila,IknowthatIam,butatthemoment,Idon’tactuallyfeelit.Idon’t

feeltheemotionsthatshouldaccompanymythoughts.They’regone.Leroyhastakenthemfromme.In

theoryandinpractice.Inrealityandinmyhead.

Iglanceatthenurserymonitor.

Zuzuissleeping.She’ssafeonthebed,andshe’ssleeping.

Ican’tsaveher.

Theyaregoingtokillmehere.Iknowtheyare.Iwanttolookinsidealloftheboxes,butatthesame

time,Idon’twanttoknowjustyethowthey’veplannedmyend.

Willitbeafataldoseofheroin?

Willitbetoomuchcocaine?

Maybethey’llmakemedrinkantifreeze.

It’shardtosay.

AllIknowis,atthemoment,Idon’tcare.

Everyounceofmycaringisgone.It’sbeentaken.

ThelongerItakethesedrugs,themoreIwillfeelempty.Iknowthatfromexperience.

Thewallsstarttocloseinonme,andmyskinstartstoitch,andtheceilingseemstofall.Ifocus

harderonthewallinfrontofme.IfIdon’t,Iwilllosemymind,andhecan’thavethat.Hecantakemy

feelings,buthecan’thavemymind.

Mythoughtsaremyown.

Ibreatheinandout,Ifocushard,harder,harder.

IpictureZuzuandMila.IknowIlovethem.IknowIdo.Loveisafact.Itisn’talwaysafeeling.I

don’tneedtofeelitatthemomenttoknowit’strue.

IpictureZu’sblondecurlsandbrighteyes,herbrightsmileandhertinyfingers.Sheholdsmyhandat

everyopportunity.Iimaginewalkingacrossthegardenwithher,playinghideandseek,whichMila

watches.Mila’seyesarecleartoo,andhersmileislikethesun.Shewatchesus,andtheloveshefeelsis

inhereyes,andshereachesforme,andmystomachclenches.

They’regoingtokillme,andthatwillkillMila.Itwillkillher.

Idon’tcareformyself,butIcarewhatitwilldotoher.

She’sbeenthroughsomuchalready.Sheshouldn’thavetogothroughthis,too.

Istandup,andbecauseIknowtheyarewatchingmethroughthesmallcamerainthecorner,Itakethe

remainingboxesandthrowthemashardasIcanagainstthewall.Istomponthem.ThenIflipoffthe

camera.

ThetinyredlightblinksandIknowtheysee.

Istareatthemwithoutblinking.

“Fuckyou,”Itellthem.

Thelightblinks.

Theyseeme.

Ismile.

Mila

Paxragesagainstcaptivity.

Hismusclesbulgeashethrowstheboxesofdrugsagainstthewallandthenstompstheminto

oblivion.Whentheyaretatteredandtornandflat,heflipsoffthecamera,andtheymustbewatchinghim

throughit.Ismilebecausethisismyhusband.ThisisthemanImarried.

Hewon’ttakeitlyingdown.

I’mterrifiedaboutwhattheywilldotoourdaughter,butIknowthattheywilldowhatthey’regoing

todoregardless.ItwasnevercontingentuponwhatPaxdoes.Iknowthat.

Thedoorburstsopenandtwomendressedinblackstormin.TheyfightwithPax,andthemovement

seemstobeslightlydelayed.Everyfewseconds,itcatchesup,anditseemslikeitskippedaframe.

Oneiskickinghimnow,overandoverinhisgut.Myhusband’sbodyjerksandliftswitheachblow.I

calloutandscream,buttheydon’tstop.Icanfeeleachblowasiftheyaredoingittome.Thatishow

closelymyhusbandandIareconnected.

Whenheislimp,I’mlimp.

Mybrowissweaty,myhandsareshaking.

Heisnolongerconscious,andtheyhefthimontothebed,restraininghimthere.Hishandsandfeetare

boundandheisboundtothebeditself.Heisn’tgoinganywhere.Hisfacebleeds,hisnoselooksbroken.

Hisheadlollstothesideandtheyleavehimthere,aloneandbroken.

“Pax,”Imurmur.“Please…”

Icryintomyhands,andIamsohelpless.He’sdyinginaroomalone,andIcan’tgettohim,andI

can’thelp.

I’mtakingashakybreathwhenhefinallymoves.

Heturnshisheadandstaresatthecamera.

Hesmilesandhisteetharered.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Idriftinandoutofconsciousness.

Ican’tmove.Notreally.

Thebindingsbiteintomyhandsandmyankles,butIdon’tfeelit.Idon’tfeelmyknee.Idon’tfeel

anything.Idon’tevenfeelmyface,andIknowitmustberagged.Theykickedthetheshitoutofme.

Ifeelnothing.

Thelightfadesinandoutwithmyconsciousness,dayturnsintonight.

Ican’tturnmyheadfarenoughtoseethenurserymonitoranymore,soIcan’tseeZuzu.Ican’tcheck

onher,Ihavenoideawhatshe’sdoing.

“Lethergo,”Iaskthemwhentheycomebackinlatertoinjectme.“Lethergo.I’mherenow.He

wantedme.Hehasme.”

Theydon’tsayanything.Theirfacesarecoveredwithblackskimasks,andIdon’tknowwhythey’ve

botheredwiththat.Theyaren’tlettingmelive.Iknowthat.

Itrytothinkofmyoptions.

Idon’thaveany.

AllIhaveismoney.

“Icanpayyou,”Itellthemthenexttimetheycome.“Icanpayyoumorethanhecan.”

Theydon’tsayathing.Theyinjectme,theroomswirls,andI’moutlikealight.

Idon’twakeupforwhatmustbehours.MybodyisstiffwhenIawaken,butthereisnopain.IguessI

shouldbethankfulforthatsmallestoffavors.

Itrytofocus.

Whatshouldapersondowhentheyareaboundcaptive?

WhatcanIdo?

Iexaminetheroomagain.Nothinghaschanged.

Iknowthereareatleasttwoofthem.

Iknowtheyhavewhatseemstobeanunlimitedsupplyofdrugs.

Iknowtheywereprepared.

Ifocusonstayingconscious,anditisactuallydifficult.Mybodyisfightingbackagainstallofthe

toxinsinmysystem.Itwantstosleepthemoff,toregainstrengthduringslumber.Ican’tdothat.

Ihavetothink.

Think,think,think.

Ihavetostaycalm.

Theycomeback.

Oneofthemspeaks.

“Weweretoldyou’dwanttoknowwhatyourmothersaidaboutyou.”

Ifocusonthat,onmymother.Shewaskindandwarm.AndLeroysaid…thathehadsomethingtotell

me.Somethingshe’dsaid.

Iremembernow.

Iwait.

Theguylaughs,andhislipsaredry.Icanonlyseehiseyesandlipsthroughtheholesinthemask.His

eyesarebrown.Dullbrown.Hislipsarechapped,flakyinthecorners.

“I’mnotgoingtotellyou.Notwhileyouareresistinglikethis.Youweretoldtobehave.Youaren’t.”

Heplacesalockofblondhaironmychest.Thecurlofitgleamsinthesunfromthewindows.It’s

Zuzu’s.

Istruggletoturn,toseethemonitor.

“Don’tyoutouchher,”Ishoutathim.

Helaughsagain.

“She’sfine,”hetellsmefinally.“Fornow.”

Myheadfallsbackagainstthebed.Mywristsarebleedingfromthebinding.

“Youcanonlybehaveifyoudoitonyourownaccord,”hecontinues.“Itdoesn’tcountifwehaveto

forceyou.Areyoureadytobehave?”

Inod.

“Areyousure?”heaskssternly.

Inod.

“Fine.We’regoingtountieyou.Andyou’regoingtodoasyou’retold,orthenextthingIbringyou

won’tbeyourdaughter’shair.”

Inodagain,andwhentheyuntieme,thebloodflowsbackintomylimbsinafloodofpinsand

needles.

“Sonofabitch,”ImutterbeforeIcanstopmyself,asIrubatmyhandsandfeet.

Theguylaughs.Theotherdoesn’tsaymuch.

Islumpintothebed.Theybringinfreshboxes,crispwhitecardboard,filledwithpoisons.Iflinch.

Thesecondguythrustsoneintomyhands.

“It’stime,”hesays,andit’sthefirsttimeI’veheardhisvoice.Idon’trecognizeit.

Theyleavemeunboundwiththeboxinmylap.

Ilookinside.

Withasigh,Isnortthecoke.Onceagain,myheart-ratespeedsupandpoundsandpumpsandI’m

afraiditmightexplode.

Itdoesn’t.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

ila

IhateNatasha.

Ihatelookingather.Ihatesmellinghercloyinghoneysuckleperfume.

“Whyareyouwearingthatscent?”Idemand.“BecauseLeroylikesit,ortomakePaxfeel

comfortablearoundyou?IknowthatSusannausedtowearit.IrememberPaxtellingmeso.”

Shesmiles.

“Paxdoesenjoyit.”Shesmirkingnow,baitingme.

“Youweartoomuchofit,”Itellher.“Ishouldn’tbeabletosmellitfromacrosstheroom.”

“Yourhusbanddidn’thavetosmellitfromadistance,”shetellsme,hereyesnarrowed.“Helikedto

buryhisnoseinmyneckandsmellitupclose.”

“No,hedidn’t.”

Shelaughs,andshe’smockingme.

“Youseemawfullysureofyourself,”shesaysfinally,andshesitsinthechairnexttomybed.Iwasn’t

kidding,sheiswearingtoomuchperfume,anditactuallygivesmeaheadache.Irubatmytemples.

“OfcourseI’msureofmyself,”Ianswertiredly.“Paxdoesn’twantyou.Iknowthat.”

Evenstill,thememoryofhimemergingfromthegaragewithher,inthemiddleofthenight,ithaunts

me.WhenIleastexpectit,ithaspoppedintomyheadandtormentedme.

“Hedoes,though,”Natashasays,playingtomydoubt.“Isawitinhiseyes.Thewayhetouchedme

thatnightinthegarage.Hewasn’tjustleaningonmeforsupport,hewasfeelingme,Mila.Hewasfeeling

mybody.Hewantedme.”

Mystomachclenches,andIforcemyselftorelax.She’slyingtoupsetme.

Don’trisetothebait.

“Igavehimmusclerelaxers,”sheadds.“Iwasabletocomforthim,tosoothehim,inatimewhenhe

didn’ttrustyouenoughtotellyouabouthispain.”

Thatstartlesme.

“Whatmusclerelaxers?”

Paxwouldn’tdothat.Hewouldn’ttakesomethingsostrong.Hewouldn’ttempthimself.

“Hedidn’ttellyou?”Natashafeignsinnocencenow.“I’msurprised.Ithoughthetoldyoueverything.”

I’msilentnow.WhateverPaxhasdone,hedidittoprotectmefromsomething.Iknowmyhusband

wellenoughtoknowthat.

“Littledidheknow,though,”Natashasayscasuallyasshebitesintoanapple.Itcrunchesloudly.

“ThatIlacedthosepills.”

Thissnapsmyheadup.

“Withwhat?”Itrytostaycalm,butmyheartisracing.“Whatdidyoulacethemwith?”

Shetakesanotherbite.

“Withmethamphetamines.”

Sheshrugslikeit’snobigdeal.

Myheartseemstostop,asIthinkabouttherecentpast,aboutPax’smoodswings,andhisabnormal

behavior.Iswallowhard.

Itallmakessense.

Somuchsense.

“Butwhy?”Iask.

“Whynot?”sheshrugsagain,andIwanttoslapherheadoffhershoulders.“Becauseit’sfunbeingthe

cat.Paxisthemouse,”sheaddsunnecessarily.

“Youwerefuckingwithhim,”Isay.

“You’reabrightone.”

“Fuckyou.”

“Suchwordscomingoutofalady’smouth,”shechuckles.“Iwantedtomakehimpay.What’sthebest

waytomakesomeonelikehimpay?Hehadaroughchildhood.Hefinallyhadalifethatheenjoys.The

onlywaytopayistakeallofthataway.”

Ifeelatwingeinmybelly.I’vegottocalmdown.Thepainissharp,andIpressmyhandtoit.

“Getout,”Ispit.“Getthefuckout.”

“Youdon’tgettotellmewhattodo,”shementions.“ButIdon’tlikeyouanymorethanyoulikeme.”

Shestandsup,andtossesherapplecoreintomytrash,thenslowlyanddeliberately,walksout.Ihave

anothersharppain.

Irushtothebathroomandyankdownmypants.

Thereisbloodinmyunderwear.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Iwakecravingcoke.

Icravethestinginmynoseandtherushinmybloodandthenumbnessinmymouth.

It’ssomethingthatslamsmeintorealityhard,likeatruckloadfullofstones.

I’maddictedtococainenow.Andheroin.AndprobablyPCP.They’vemadesureofthat.Andfor

what?Whatisthepoint?

Howdidtheymanagetogetmeaddictedwithintwoweeks?

I’manaddict.

Ithappenedsofast.

Ifeelemptyinside,somethingthatbeginsinmybelly,flowsthroughmyveins,andendsinmyheart.It

doesn’tmatterwhattheydotomenow.They’vedonetheworsttheycando.

IpromisedMilayearsagothatI’dneverhurtheragain.Thiswillkillher,andthatwillkillme.

Isitstaunchlyonthefloor,waitingastheycomein.Idon’tknowwhatthey’redoing,andIdon’tcare.

“You’vebeenagoodboytoday,”themansays,theonewhoalwaystalks.“Sowe’vebroughtyoua

reward.”

Hehandsmeapieceofpaper.Itlookslikeit’sbeenrippedoutofsomething,andIdecideit’sa

journalpage.

It’syellowedwithage,andit’swritteninfadedblueinkpeninamasculinescrawl.It’sLeroy

Ellison’sjournal.

Onepage.

Today,IwatchedthehouseforanhourbeforeIcrepttothewindowandlookedin.Thefatherisn’t

homefromworkyet.Heneglectsthemterribly.Alwaysgone,comeshomelate.He’saddictedtowork,I

think.Theboyisrambunctious.He’salwaysintosomething,andshechasesbehindhim.Whereverhe

goes,shefollows.I’mnotsurethatIwouldwanthimtocomeafterItakeher.Weshallsee.

She’sagoodmother,though.Iadmirethatabouther.IfIdon’ttakehim,she’dresentme.Idon’t

wantthat.It’saquandary.

Jesus.

MybreathleavesmybodyasIreadthewords.

He’dobservedourhomeforquitesometimebeforehe’dbrokeninandforcedhimselfonmymother.

Godonlyknowsforhowlong.

She’sagoodmother,though.

Thosewords,eventhoughthey’refromapsychopath,warmmynumbheart.Evenapsychopathcould

seeherloveforme.Hedoesn’thavefeelings.Yetherecognizedhers.That’showstrongtheywere.

Shelovedmesomuchshediedprotectingme.

It’ssomethingIthoughtI’ddealtwith,butthemagnitudeofthatoverwhelmsmenow.Ifithadn’tbeen

forme,ifIhadn’trushedoutofthatclosetto“save”her,she’dstillbealive.She’dstillbesmiling.She’d

stillbehere.

Butshe’snot.

Andit’smyfault.

Iswallowhard.ThenIgetup,crosstheroom,andopenthenextboxtwohoursearlierthanIam

supposed.Iinjecttheheroin.

Thepaindisappears.

Hazywarmcomfortreplacesit.

Theblackness,thevoid,itsucksmein.Thereisnopainintheabyss.

Itdoesn’tlastlongenoughthough,forbarelyanhour.SoIopenthenextboxearly,too.It’salso

heroine.I’mthankfulforthat.Ipresstheplungerandclosemyeyes.

Thepain,theemotion,theconsciousness,alldisappearintonothing.

Iclosemyeyes.

Iopenmyeyes.

Iblink.MyeyesaredrysoIblinkagain.Thenagain.

Iamflatonmyback,Ithink.

Imustbe,becauseIthinkI’mstaringataceiling.There’salightaboveme.Itcomesinandthenoutof

focus.

It’shardtosay,becauseIfeellikeI’mfloating.Throughspace,throughwater,throughsomething.

Somethingmurky,yetIcan’ttouchit.Istretchoutahand.Itcomesbackwithnothing.Justair.

I’mtheperfecttemperature.Nothot,notcold.

Thereisnopain.That’sthemostblessedthing.Mylegdoesn’thurt.Myribsdon’thurt.Myheart

doesn’thurt.Notanymore.

Nothingbothersmehere,notinthisabyss.Worries,stress,reality.Allaregone.Farfromme,farfrom

here.

Ican’tfeel.

Ican’tthink.

Idon’tneedto.

Still,eventhoughit’sperfecthere,andblackandvoid,somethingisn’tright.Iknowthat.Itnigglesat

me,botheringme,likeanitch.Iscratchatit,atthethought,andIrealizethatitbothersmebecauseI

shouldn’tbehere.

Thisisanoldfamiliarplace,aplaceIhaven’tvisitedinalongtime.

Oblivion.

HowdidIgethere?

Whatthefuckhappened?

Ifurrowmybrowandtrytothink…

Mybrainisfoggy.Ittakesmeafewminutes,thenafewminutesmore,toremember.

I’minmybedroom.Milaisn’there.

Butdrugsare.That’swhatIneedrightnow.It’sdrivingme.Theurgetoinhale,toburn.

Iwanttoburn.

Iopenabox.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

heboyiseasy.

Today,Icalledhimovertothemailtruckandgavehimtwopiecesofcandy,andaskedwherehis

motherwas.Shewasinthekitchenmakinglemonade.

Theboytookmein,andIhanddeliveredhermail.

Shewassurprised,butpleasantlyso.Shesaidshe’dneverhadanyonetakethetrouble.Shegave

meaglassoflemonade,andwewentoutsideandsatintheshadewhiletheboykickedaballonthe

lawn.

Icouldlivelikethis.

Icantoleratetheboy.

Thewoman’snameisSusanna,anditsuitsher.Sheislikeablueskyandsunnyday,andshesmells

likesweethoneysuckle.

IimaginedthatIwaslickingherskintoday,andImust’velostmyselfinthefantasy.Shenoticed,

andaskedifIwasok.

Ihadtoexcusemyself.

Ibeatoffinthemail-truckthinkingabouther.

Soon,soon.Itwillbeher.

Thejournalentrymakesmesicktomystomach.

Ilethimintoourhome?Iwasswayedbytwopiecesofcandy?God.

Shewelcomedhim,andgavehimlemonadeandarestfromhiswearyday,andherepaidherby

assaultingherlater.Whatkindofmonsterishe?

TheoutragethatIknowIfeelisdulledbythedrugs.

Iknowitisthere,lurkinginmyheart,though.

Myangerisaslumberingbeast.Ithasalwaysbeenthere,hiddenfromtheworld.Imaskedit,butI

couldn’texorciseit.

Itisapartofme.

Iknowthatnow.

Isitonthefloor,andIgrababox.

I’mthreeboxesaheadofschedule,andmycaptorslikethat.Infact,theyrewardedmetodaywiththe

journalpage.I’msurethey’llcontinue.

ThehigherIget,themorepagesthey’llgiveme.

Thedrugsdullthepain.It’sawin-winsituation.

Ishootup,andthefamiliarburntearsintome,spreadingthroughmyarmlikearagingfire.Idropmy

headback,andIsitinthewindowseat,andIstareoutatthelake.

Itmakesmefeelsmall.Itisvastandwide,anditcouldsuckmeinanddrownme.

Inthismoment,Ialmostwishitwould.

Itwouldsuckawayallofthis.

Therewouldbenomoreworry,nomorefear.

Iclosemyeyes.Iknowthisistheherointalking.Butmoreandmore,it’sgettinghardertotellthe

difference.

WhenIwake,thereisanotherjournalpageinmylap.

They’dbeeninhere,andIhadn’tevenwoke.

Iblinkmyeyes,thenblinkthemharder,tryingtofocus.

I’mfuckedup.

MorefuckedupthanI’veeverbeen.

It’stheirpoint,Iguess.

Ilookatthecomputermonitor.

Zuzuissittingonherbed,andshe’scrying.Ihavehergoldencurlinmypocket,andIgraspit.She

mustbelonely.ShemustbewonderingwherehermotherandIare.

“I’mhere,”Itellher,althoughIknowshecan’thear.“I’mhere.”

Shestillcries,andI’mstillalone.

Islumpintotheseat.Ireadthepaper.

Tomorrowistheday.

Everythingisplanned.

IwilltellSusannahowIfeelabouther,andshewillbesogratefulthatIhavecometosaveher.We

willgoliveinmyfather’scabininthecountry.Nooneknowswhereitis,andSusannacanteachthe

boyherself.Therewillbenoneedforschool.Idon’twantanyquestionsraised.Ihavethoughtof

everything.

Ourlifewillbegrand.

Shewillbegrateful.

Hementionedgratefultwice.

Hewasdefinitelydelusional.Hethoughthewasrescuingmymotherfromabadlife.Itwouldbe

laughableifithadn’tendedsotragically.

Shethoughtshewasbeingkindtoaloner.

Andhewasaloner.

Buthewasalsocrazy.Wejusthadn’tknownit.

ItmakesmewonderhowmanypeopleI’vecomeintocontactwithinmylifewhohavesecretlybeen

insaneortwisted.

It’samazingwhatcanliebeneathafalsedemeanor.

Everyonehasafaçade,Iguess.

MyfaçadewasthatI’mnotanaddict.

IliedtomyselfandIliedtoeveryoneelse.

Tobefair,IthoughtIwasn’t.Butitwasalwaysthere,underthesurface,waitingtore-emerge.

Leroymight’veforcedmyhand,butthisisallme.

I’mpathetic.

Igrababoxbecausewhatisthepointofdoinganythingelsenow?

I’mgoingtodie.

I’manaddict.

SoI’mgoingtodowhataddictsdo.

Iuse.

It’scocainethistime.

Isnortoneline,thenanother.

Igrabanotherbox.

Itdoesn’tmatteranymore.Whentheykillme,Iwon’tevennotice.

Ipushtheplungerofheroinintomyarm.

Theroomswirlsintoabingeofbrightcolors,toomuchtofathom,toomuchtosustain.Iclosemyeyes

againstthebrightness,againstthedizziness,andIswirlinandamongthem,avaguehueinavibrant

rainbow.I’monlyapieceofthisfabric,onlyastrand.

I’munraveling,too.

I’mfullofholes.

Theyarepleasedwithme.

They’vehadtoreplacetheboxes.

Iusedalloftheothers,andlefttheminapileonthebed.

Themansmilesashere-enterstheroom,hisarmsfullofwhitecardboard.

“Ihavetreatsforyou,”hesays,andhepusthemdown.“Thisisthelastofthem.Hereisthis,too.”

Hehandsmeanotherpageofthejournal.

Iglanceatit,butmydriveisgone.Ican’tfeel.I’mempty.I’mavoid.

“That’sthelastoftheboxes?”Iaskwoodenly.Henods.“Whathappenswhenthey’regone?”

Heshrugs.“Let’sworryaboutthatwhenyougettothelastbox,shallwe?”

Iriflethroughthem,hunting.Helaughs.

“It’snotthere.I’llbringitinseparatelywhenthetimecomes.”

Itwon’ttakemelongtogothroughthese.Maybeaday.Twodaysatthemost.Itdoesn’tmatter.

Nothingdoes.

“SendZuzuhome,”Itellhimandmyvoiceisdead.Itlacksallemotion.“I’veearnedit.”

“Youhaven’tyet,”hesays.“Butyouwill.”

Ilookaway.Heleaves.

Ireadthejournalpage.

I’msittingoutsideofthehouse.

Thehusbandisn’thomeyet,asIknewhewouldn’tbe.Heneveris.Iwon’tevenbotherkillinghim.

He’llbarelynoticethey’regone.Isawthemeatingthroughthewindow.Macaroniandcheeseand

salad.Iheardtheboysayit’shisfavorite.He’llhavetolearntolikethingslikevenisonandrabbit

afterweleave.ThenexttimeIwriteinthisjournal,theywillbewithme.Mylifewillbewhole,andso

willtheirs.

Ithinkbacktothatnight.

I’dbeeninbed.I’dheardsomethinginmymother’sroom.I’dgottenoutofbed,andpaddeddownthe

hall,steppingoveratoyonmyway.Adumptruck.

Shewasinthere,andshewasbeggingformylife.

Pleasedon’thurthim,she’dbegged.ShewascryingandI’dneverheardhercrybefore.Hernose

wasbleedinganditwasspatteredonhershirt.Leroyhadagun.

“Run,Pax,”she’dscreamedatme,butLeroygrabbedme.He’dtoldmetomakemymombehave.Can

youhelpyourmommybeagoodgirl?

Iswallownow,andacidicbileisinmythroat.Itburnsasitslidesbackdown.

I’lldoanything.Pleasedon’thurthim!

Anything?He’dasked,andhisteethwereyellow.

Heunbuttonedhispantsandtheydroppedtothefloor.Hehadacoiledsnaketattooonhiship.

Don’ttreadonme.

Mymomhadn’twantedmetosee,soLeroyhadshovedmeintothecloset,butIcouldstillseethrough

theslats.

Heshovedherdowninfrontofhim,grabbingherbythehair.

Ifyoudon’tdothis,I’llkillyoursonasyouwatch.

Forsolong,Ihadblockedthesememoriesoutofmyhead,butIcanseethemnow.Asifthey’d

happenedyesterday.Ican’tun-seethem.Ican’tshakethem.

Iwasovercomewithwantingtohelpher.Hershoulderswereshakingandshewashelpless,andI

wastheonlyonewhocould.

SoI’drushedoutandtried.

Andshe’ddied.

Tryingtohelpherhadkilledher.

Iwon’tmakethatsamemistakeagain.

IwatchZuzuonthemonitor.She’sstillnow.Sheprobablycriedherselftosleep.

Ican’tfightthem,orshe’lldie.

Ican’triskit.

Iopenanotherbox.

Ipushtheplungerdown,andtheheroindisappearsintomyvein.Myconsciousnessgoeswithit.

Thisisforthebest.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

ila

I’vebeeninthisbedroomforeightdays.Ihavebledalittle,offanon,butItrytokeepmyanxietyata

minimum,andItrytolaystillinbed.

TheonlythingIcanseeisPaxonthemonitor,butatleasthe’suntiednow.That’ssomething.Andhe’s

alive.

That’severything.

Hesitsonthefloornow,staringatthewall,andthenabruptly,heclimbsupanddoespush-ups.Ilose

trackofhowmany.Hemovesfast,likeamachine.Idon’tknowwhyhe’ssofrenziedandfocused.

Thedoorbellrings.Icanhearitvaguelyfromthroughthehouse.Itrangoncetheotherday,too.Ihave

noideawhoitwassinceIcan’tseefromthisroom.AllIhavehereisaviewofthegardensandthepool.

Once,Ithoughtitwascharmingandquiet.Today,itsecludesandisolatesme.

Ididfinallyeat.Ihadtoforthebaby.Idrankmywaterandatemytoast,andIcupmybelly

protectivelynow.Whilemybabyishere,insideofmybody,theycan’ttakeitliketheytookZuzu.

Childrenmakeyouvulnerable.Thatiscertainlytrue.Theyrippedmyheartoutwhentheytookher.

Ican’tthinkofherrightnow.BecauseifIdo,I’lllosemymind.

IputmyhandonPax’sonthetelevisionscreen.He’sstillnow,quiet.Sweatbeadsonhisbrow.

Anyoneontheoutsidelookinginwouldthinkthatwehavetheworldonastring,buthereweare…

separatedbyathousandmilesandtwolocksrooms….againstourwill.

He’sthere.

I’mhere.

Itakeabreath,andsteelmyself.

TherehastobesomethingIcando.

Ipace,thenpacemore.

Andthen…then…there’samovement.Outofthecornerofmyeye.

Iturn,andthereissomeoneoutsidemywindow.Huncheddown,butIstillseethem.Gasping,Icross

theroomandpeerout,andRogerispeeringbackatme.

Pax’sdriver.

Hiseyesarewide.

I’msureminearetoo.

“Areyouok?”hemouths.Ishakemyheadno.

Henodsinconfirmation.

“Whatareyoudoing?”

Natasha’svoicecomesfromthedoorway.Iturnquickly,tryingtoblockRoger.

“Staringoutside.It’sallIcando.You’vetakeneverythingelse.”

Shesmiles,andbringsinasandwichalongwithabottleofwater.“That’strue,isn’tit?”sheagrees.

“Youonlyhavewhatwegiveyouatthispoint.”

Myphoneisinherpocket.Iseethecornerofitstickingout.Itrytoponderawaytogetit,butwith

Rogerrightoutside,Idon’ttakethechance.

Isitonthebedsothatherattentionisonme,ratherthanthewindow.

“Whenareyougoingtoletmego?”Iaskher.

“NotuntilafterI’mlonggone,”shesayspleasantly.Igetthefeelingshe’sdeterminedtonotloseher

coolwithmeagain.

“Whataboutmyhusband?”

Shelevelshergazeatme,anditiscold.“Ithinkwealreadyestablishedthat.”

Iceformsovermyheartandshiversrundownmyspine.Thereisn’tmuchtimeleft.Ifeelit.

Icounttheminutesuntilsheleavestheroom,andthenIscurryacrosstheroomtomynightstand.There

isasketchpadinside,andapieceofcharcoalfordrawing.It’snotthebesttowritewith,butithasto

work.

Iscrawloutamessage.

Heldcaptive.TheyhavePaxatthelakehouse.Callmysisterandtellher.We’renotsupposedto

callthepolice.TheyhaveZuzu.

Iracebacktothewindow,whereRogeriswaiting,huncheddown.

Hereadsmywordsandhiseyeswideninalarm.Inod.

Hurry,Imouthsilently.Iflipthepageoverandscribbleonelastthing.

They’regoingtokillPax.

Hespinsaroundandisgone,huggingthesideofthehouseashegoes.Myheartisracingandmy

handsareclammy.Ourlivesareliterallyinthehandsofsomeoneelse,acardriverthatPaxhadn’teven

wanted.

Itrytofocus.Itrytositstill,butIcan’t.Myfingersshake,mytoes.Mymouthisdry,mythoughtsare

blurry.Ihavetoomuchadrenalineandnowaytouseit.

SoIgetupandpace.Idocirclesaroundtheroom,andIfeellikeI’mgoingtohyperventilate.I

breathein,thenout.

Idon’tknowwhatisgoingtohappen,butIhadtodosomething.

Itwasnevergoingtoendwell.

Atleastthisway,we’llgodownfighting.

Evenifwealldie.

Zuzu’sfaceflashesinfrontofme,andeventhoughthey’vebeenusinghertokeepmedocile,Iknow

they’llkillhertoo.Theywon’thaveachoice.They’llhavetogetridofusall.

ButRogerknowsnow.

He’lltellMaddyandGabe,andthey’llhelpus.

GabewasanArmyRanger.He’llknowwhattodo.

Hehasto.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

“Youhaveacall,”themantellsme,bringingmyphoneintotheroom.

Istareatthephoneinconfusion.

“It’shim,”headds.

Him.

Leroy.

Ireachoutmyhand.

“What?”

“Whatanicegreetingforyouroldfriend.Ihopeyou’vebeenenjoyingyourtimethere.”

I’msilent.

Theroomisspinning,andI’mnotquitesureifmyheadissittingstraightonmyneck.

“Keepgoing,”heencouragesme.“Onceyougettotheend,onceyoufinishalltheboxes,youwill

achievetwothings.First,Zuzuwillbesentbacktohermother.Second,Iwilltellyouwhatyouwantto

know.Yourmother’slastwords.Keepgoing.”

Thelinegoesdead.

Heclearlydidn’twantmetosayanythingincriminatingontherecordedprisonline.Hetookquitea

chancetogetmeonthephoneatall.Hemust’vethoughtIwastoodopeduptofocus.

That’spartiallytrue.

Idopushupstopumpthedrugsthroughmyveinsfaster.

IneedtoworkitthoughmysystemsothatIcangettotheend.

Ihavetofinish.

Ihavetosavemydaughter,andIhavetohearmymother’slastwords.

Idon’tknowwhyIwanttohearthem.

Ijustdo.

It’saneedatthispoint,asrealtomeasmyneedforheroin.

Slowly,methodically,throughouttheday,Iworkmywaythroughtheboxes.

One

One.

Iamfocusedonthat.

Nomatterhowtheroomspins,ortheblacknessthreatenstoovertakeme,Icontinue.

Ilostconsciousness

Once

Twice

Threetimes.

WhenIwake,itisnight.

Earlyevening,Ithink.Thelightisdyingonthelake,inorangesandgoldsandambers.Istareatit,

watchingitflittoandfro,andIputmyhandonthewindow.

Ilovedthisplaceonce.Ilovedtheviewsofthelakeandtheseclusion.

IcanfeelMilahere,evenstill.Oneofherpictureshangsonthewall,abreathtakingpaintingofthe

sun.Itisanexplosionofabstractvision,andIwishIwasinthecanvas,andawayfromhere.

ButI’mnot.

AndIonlyhaveashortwaylefttogo.

Ireachforthelastbox.

IfIfinishthis,they’llbringmetheverylastone.

Itwillbeover.

Iwillhavewon.

EvenifIdie,Iwon.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

ila

It’sbeentwelvehourssinceRogerleft.

Theminuteshavetickedpastslowly.Natashabroughtmeadinnertray,anditwasallIcoulddotoact

normally.

Surely,somethingwillhappensoon.

DidRogerbelieveme?

Maybehemisunderstood.

It’seasytobeparanoidwhenI’mherealone.

Everysoundliftsmyhead.

Everytime,it’snothing.

Everytime,I’mcrushed.

Ipray.Ipace.Ipray.Ipace.

Nothinghappens.

Ishower,Igotobed.

It’sthemiddleofthenightbeforeIhearsomething.

Somethingdistant,somethinginthehouse.

It’snotascreech,it’smoreofacrash.

Aloudone.

Ilungefromthebedforthefirsttimeindays.Mylegsareweak,andtheyalmostgiveout,butImake

ittothedoor,andIbangonit,screaming.

Throughit,Ihearacommotion.Scuffling,yelling,aloudshot.Ashot?

Then,

It’squiet.

Then.

“M’am,standawayfromthedoor.”

It’saman’svoice,assertiveandloud.Istepaway,scurryingtothebed,andmydoorcomes

splinteringin,loudlyandforcibly,andthepiecesfallontothefloor.Everythingnexthappensinablur.

Peoplesurroundme.

Everythingisbuzzing.

Myheartpounds.

Therearesomanypeople.Police,EMTs.

“Whereismydaughter?”Iasksomeone.Theyaretakingmybloodpressure,takingmyvitals,

wrappingablanketaroundmyshoulders.Myteetharechattering,andIdidn’tevenrealizeit.

“Wedon’tknowyet,”theEMTsays.“Don’tworry,m’am.”

“Andmyhusband?WhataboutPax?”Idemand,andmyvoiceisloud,andImightbescreaming.

“Wedon’tknowanythingyet,”someoneelsesays.

“Ishealive?”Iask,andI’mscared,terrified.IyankawayfromtheEMTs.

“Idon’tknowyet,m’am,”shesaysagain.It’seasyforhertobecalm,becauseit’snotherlife,her

family,thatwe’retalkingabout.

Ibreakawayandrunfromthebedroom,andthereisabodycoveredbyasheetinthelivingroom.A

giantbloodstainseepsintothefloor,andthroughthesheet,andohmyGod,thatisNatasha.Iknowit.

She’ddead.Iknowthat,too.

Ipauseinmytracks,andmyhandisovermymouthandmybreathisinmythroat,andthen…

Then…

“Mila?”

Mysisterisrushingtowardmeinajacketandshesmellslikethecoldoutdoors.Shegrabsmetight,

scoopingmeintoahug.

“Oh,mygod,”shemoansintomyhairassherocksmetoandfro.“OhmyGod.You’resafenow.

You’resafe.”

“WhataboutPax?”Isaysimply,andshepullsawayandlooksatme.

“Idon’tknowyet.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

I’veusedeverything.

Everythingisempty.

Theboxes,myheart,mysoul.Allofit.

IamavesselandIhavebeenusedup.Depleted.

Now,allIcandoiswait.

Iamsprawledonthebed,andI’mnotsitting,orlying.I’mhalfwayinbetween.Idon’thavethe

balancetodooneortheother.

Iamflailingintime,inthemoment.Iamexisting,andnotmuchmore.

Iamonlywaiting.

Fortheend.

Forthelastthing.

Itisnight.

Iwilldieatnight.

It’sfitting,Idecide,asthedooropensandthemoonlightshinesinonthefloor.Iwilldieinoblivion.

It’swhereIbelong,anyway.

“Youhavedonewell,”themantellsmeasheeyestheemptypileofcardboard.Hehasthelastonein

hishands.“Areyoureadytofinish?”

Inod,becauseIam.WhenIamgone,nothingcanhurtMilaagain.ShecantakeZuzuandstartanew

somewhere,withsomeonewhoisn’tfuckeduplikeme.Iwillsavethembydoingthis.

“Thisishowitwillwork,”themansays,andhesetstheboxnexttome.“Everythingyouneedisin

thatbox,includingthelastjournalpage.Itwilltellyouwhatyou’vebeenwantingtoknow.Afteryou’ve

readit,youwillfinishit.Onceitisdone,Iwilltakeyourdaughterbacktoyourwife.Theywilllive

happilyeverafter.Doyouhaveanyquestions?”

“HowdoIknowyouwillsticktoyourword?”Iaskandmywordsaresluggishandslurredfromthe

drugs.

“Youdon’t,”hesaysdirectly.“ButIwill.Ihavenothingagainstyoupersonally.I’mpaidtodoajob.

Thatisall.”

Inod.

“Anythingelse?”

Ithinkonthat.“Iwanttoleaveanoteformywife.”

“No.That’snotpossible.”

“Willyousendamessagetoher?”Iask.“WillyoutellherthatIloveher?”

“Ifshedoesn’talreadyknowthat,thenyouweren’tlivingyourliferightinthefirstplace.”

“That’strue,”Iagreewithmycaptor.Idon’tknowwhy,buthesoundslogicalandI’mswimmingina

seaofdoubt.

Heleaves,justlikethat,withoutanotherword.

IsitonthefloorandIknowit’sforthelasttime.

Iwon’thavetogothroughthiscycleagain.Itwillbeoversoon.

Iopenthelastbox.

Thereisa.45revolverinside,anditgleamsinthemoonlight.Icheckthebarrel.Onebulletisinthe

chamber.

Thelastjournalpageisfoldedbeneathit.

Itakeadeepbreath.

Thedrugshavedulledallofmysenses.I’mnotafraid.I’mnotevensad.I’manemptyshell,andallI

needisthelastpieceofthispuzzle.Ineedtoknow.

Iputthegunonmylap,andIpulloutthepaper.Theinkonthispageisfresh,avibrantblue.

I’vethoughtalotovertheyearsaboutwhySusannahadactedlikeshedidthatnight.

Sherejectedme,andrefusedtogowithme,andIhavetoadmit,thatwasasurprise.Ittookthe

windoutofmysails.

Iknownow,though,whyshedidit.

Shemust’vethoughtIwouldkillherson.

Shedidn’ttrustmewhenIsaidIwouldn’t.

IfithadonlybeenherandI,Iknowshewouldhavegonewithmeinasplitsecond.Iwould’ve

savedherfromthatlife.Buthersoncamein,andshehadtoputonashowforhim.Shehadtoactlike

shedidn’tloveme.Iknowitwasashow.Isawhowshe’dlookedatmeeverytimeIdeliveredtheir

mail,dayinanddayout.Shewatchedme,andshewaslustfulandshewantedme.Iknowitnow,andI

knewitthen.

Butsomewomen,theirinstinctstobemothersovertakeseverythingelse.

That’swhathappenedthatnight.

I’msureofit.

Shefoughtforthatsnot-nosedkid.Andintheend,Iaskedherwhy.Rightbeforeherushedinand

killedher,Iaskedherwhyshewasfightingsohardforhim.

Shelookedupatme,andhereyesweresowideandfulloftears.Andshesaid-

Thepaperisrippedhere.

Herresponseisgone.

LeroyEllison,beingthemonsterthatheis,isgoingtodenymemymother’slastwords.Hebrought

metothebrink,thenyankeditaway.Hewasplayingwithmeallalong.

Ragebillowsinoncloudsofredinmyvision,andIfindmyselfatthedoor,kickingandpunchingand

yelling.Noonehears,ofcourse,andIturn,lookingatthemonitor.ThemenareinZuzu’sroom,andthey

aretakingherbythehand.Theonewhodoesthetalkinglooksdirectlyatthecamera,directlyatme.

Hewavesgoodbye.

Acoldpangrunsthroughmyheart,andiftheywentbackontheirwordwiththejournal,thentheywill

gobackontheirwordwithmydaughter.

Theyaren’ttakingherbacktohermother.

Theyaretakingherouttokillher.

Fearformydaughterfightsthroughthenumbingfogofthedrugs,anditemergesontopandIstruggle

withthedoor.IshoutforZuzu,toconsoleher,totellherthatIloveher,butitisallfornothing.

Theyaregone,andIamalone,andnoonecanhearme.

Afteraminute,Islumpdownonthebed,andIlookoutside,watchingforthem.

TheywalkoutsideandZuzuisbetweenthem.Sheisbarefootandinherpajamas,andherblondhair

gleamsunderthelightofthemoon.Theyaretakingheroutback.Ipoundontheglassandshoutasloudas

Ican,buttheydon’tturnaround.

Aretheygoingtokillmydaughterbythelake?Willtheydistracthersosheisn’tafraid?

IamfrozeninplaceasIwatch.Myhandsareicecold.Thesteelofthegunisevencolder.Icurlmy

fingersaroundthebarrel.

Ican’twatchthemkillZuzu.

Ican’tdoit.

I’mstrongenoughforanythingbutthat.

IliftmyfacetotheskyandIdosomethingIhaven’tdoneinalongtime.

Ipray.

“God,please.Savemydaughter.Shedoesn’tdeservetopayformysins.She’sinnocentandgood.

EverythingthatI’mnot.Please…saveher.Andifyoucan’t,forsomereason,pleasemakeitpainless.

Makeitquick.AndthenletsheandIbetogether.Somewhere.Anywhere.PleasetakecareofMila.

PleaseletherknowthatIlovedher.Morethanlife,morethananything.Please,God.IknowIdon’t

deserveanansweredprayer,butifyoucouldjustdothis.Please.”

IammutteringbutIhavetobelievethatGodknowsmyheart.HeknowswhatIamtryingtosay.

“Please,forgivemeforwhatIamabouttodo.Ican’tlivewithoutthem.Ican’tliveknowingthatmy

daughterhasdiedbecauseofme.I’mnotstrongenoughforthat.Pleaseforgiveme.”

Iknowthey’llcomebackinsideandkillmeanyway.

WhenIgo,itwillbeonmyownterms.

Ilowermychin,andIstareoutthewindow.Irememberwalkingonthatbeachwithmywife,handin

hand.Shesmiledupatme,andshemadeeverythinggood.TheworldisbetterwithMilainit.Godknows

that.

“Iloveyou,”Iwhispertoher.“Iloveyou.”

Ipictureherface,andIpicturehersmile,andIpictureheransweringme.

“Iloveyou,too,Pax.”

Iliftthegun.Thetipofitrestsbeneathmychin.

Itakeabreath.

Myfingerisonthetrigger.

AllIhavetodoissqueeze.

Itakeonemorebreath.

Mylastone.

Then…

Thedooropens.

Iclenchmyteeth,gettingreadytosqueezethetrigger.Theywon’tchoosethisforme.I’lldoitmyself.

I’llpickthemoment.

MaybeI’llmakethemwatch.Thiscanhaunttheirdreams.

Theyburstinside.

Onlyit’snotthem.

It’saSWATteam,inhelmetsandmasksandvests.

“Putthegundown!”someoneyells,andI’mfrozen.Isthisreallyhappening?AmIimaginingit?“Put

thegundown!”theyrepeat,andsoIdo.

Ilayitdownonthefloor.

Theflooriscoldundermyfingers.

Thisisreal.

I’msaved.

OramI?

AstheybustleinandfigureoutwhoIam,andbundlemeintoablanket,Ifeelmorelostandalonethan

ever.I’mhighasakite,andIhavenofeelings.Notanymore.

Ilostmyselfinthisroom.

I’llneverbethesame.

“Mydaughter,”Imumble.“Isshealive?”

“Yes,Mr.Tate,”theytellme.“She’sfine.TheEMTsarelookingatherrightnow.Whatdrugshave

theygivenyou?”

TheycantellI’mhigh.Ican’teventellthemeverythingI’vetaken,everythingthat’sinmysystem.

There’stoomuchtoremember.

“Whataboutmywife?”Iaskhim,andI’mafraidtoheartheanswer.

“She’salive,”theysayandIdieamilliondeathsinrelief.“She’sonherwayheretoyou.”

ButIcan’t.

Ican’tletherseemelikethis.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

ila

“Thisisridiculous,”Itellthedoctoragainonthethirdday.“Isurelydon’tneedhispermission.”

I’vebeenpacingthewaitingroom,dayandnight,andmyhusbandrefusestoallowmeintohisroom.

GabeandMaddyhavebeenwithmeforsupport,butIamcrushedbythefactthatPaxdoesn’twanttosee

me.

“Hehasgivenstrictinstructionsthatnooneisallowedintohisroom,”thedoctorrepliesandhe

doesn’tlikeiteither.Icantell.“It’scommonwithpeoplewhohavebeenincaptivity,evenifithasonly

beentendays.Hedoesn’twantyoutoseehiminthisstate.He’snothimself.”

“Hashecomethroughthephysicalwithdrawals?”Iaskhesitantly.IhatethethoughtofPaxbeingin

pain.Thedoctornods.

“He’sthroughtheworstofit.Itwillprobablycontinueforuptoaweek,buttheworstofitispast.

Therecoveryprocessismostlymentalfromhere.He’llhavetolearntoresisttheurgestouse.It’sa

process.”

Iamstunned.Myhusband.Mybeautiful,stronghusband,islyinginahospitalbed,addictedtodrugs.

That’swhatthatmonsterdidtohim.

MybloodboilsandIhopetheymanagetotiethistoLeroy.Sofar,thedetectivessaythatitlookslike

Natashaorchestrateditonherown.Iknowthat’simpossible.LeroyEllisonisbehindthis.Hewasjust

smartenoughtohideit.

“WillyoupleasetellhimthatI’mwaitinghereuntilheseesme?TellhimthatI’msleepinginthe

waitingroom,andI’mnotgoinganywhere.”

Thedoctorhesitates,thennods.“I’lltellhim.Inthemeantime,wedohavecounselorshere.People

youcantalktoaboutyourownordeal.”

“I’mfine,”Iassurehim.“Maybelater.Rightnow,allIcanconcentrateonismyhusband.”

Zuzuissafe.Ihadsmelledherhairandhuggedherforanhourstraight.Ididn’twanttoletgoofher,

andIdon’twantheroutofmysightevennow.ButIalsodon’twantherhereinthishospital.Soshe’sat

thehotelpoolwithMaddyandGabe.I’llreturntoseehertonight,toeatdinnerwithherandholdherand

smellher,beforeIcomebacktospendthenighthere.

Paxhastounderstandhowimportantthisis.

Ihavetoshowhim.

Itakemyseatagain.

Iwait.

Andwait.

Intheevening,MaddyandGabebringZuzutome,becauseI’dlosttrackoftime.I’mstillinadaze,

andtheyknowit.

Zuzuboundsintomyarms,andshebringsthesunshinewithher.

“Mommy!”shecries,andshehugsme.“Imissedyou.Isdaddyawake?”

Wekeeptellingherthatheissleeping,andthat’swhyshecan’tseehim.Wedon’tknowwhatelseto

do.

“Youjustmissedhim,sweetheart,”Itellher.“Hemissesyou,too.”

Shenodsherhead,veryconfidentofherfather’sloveforher.“Idrewhimapicture.”

Itakeitfromher,anditisafamilyportrait.Me,PaxandZuzuinthemiddle.Sheisholdingaflower.

“He’llloveit,”she’lltellsmeseriously.Inod,andmyeyesarefilledwithtears.

“Hedefinitelywill,”Ianswer.“CanyougobacktothehotelwithauntMaddyanduncleGabe?

Mommywantstowaitherefordaddytowakeupagain.”

“Yes,Mommy,”shesaysseriously.“AuntMaddyisgoingtopaintmynails.”

IsmileandMaddyhugsme.“It’sallgoingtobefine,”shetellsme.“Itis.”

ShetakesZuzubythehandafterI’vekissedherthreetimes.Gabepausesnexttome.

“I’veseenthisplentyoftimes,”hetellsmequietly.“Incombat.He’llcomearound,Mila.He’sin

shock.He’sbeenthroughalot.”

Inod.“Iknow.”

“Andsohaveyou.Beeasyonyourself.Ineedforyoutogetsomesleep.Cometothehoteltonight.

Rest.”

Inodagain.“Ok.”

He’ssatisfiedwiththat.

“Gabe?”

“Yeah,sweetie?”

“Thankyou.Foreverything.”

Forsavingmylife.AndPax’s.AndZuzu’s.

Henods.“Always.”

Theyleave,andI’maloneagain.

Iwaitforawhilelonger,butthelongerIstareatZuzu’spicture,themoremyfrustrationgrows.Our

familyconsistsofthreepeople,soontobefour.Paxcan’tkeepusawayfromhim.

Hecan’t.

Itakethepicture,andIslipdownthehall.Iwaituntilthenursesatthestationaredistracted,andthen

Islipthroughthedouble-doors.He’sinroomthree-fifteen,soIcounttheroomsdownasIpass,and

beforeIknowit,I’minfrontofhis.

Iliftthelatch.

Ipushthedooropen.

Paxisinthebed,hiseyesclosed.

Mybreathleavesmybodyinawhoosh.

Déjàvufloodsthroughme.

Onceuponatime,I’dwalkedintoahospitalroomandfoundPaxlikethis,hookeduptoIVsandina

hospitalbed.

Today,though,mybeautifulhusband’sfaceisbatteredandbruised.Thereisabandageacrosshisnose

andIassumeit’sbroken.Iwatchedthebeatingtheygavehim.Iknewithadtoleaveamark.

Butuntilthismoment,Ihadnoideahowmuchso.

Hisfaceisblueandpurple,hischeekswollen.

Hiseyesareclosed…until…theyaren’t.

Helooksatme,quietandstill,hisgazegolden.

“Red,”hemurmurs,andforamoment,justamoment,heishappytoseeme.Hiseyeslightup,andhe

reachesforme.Butthen,justasquickly,hemasksit.

Hedropshishand,andthelightinhiseyesfades.

“You’renotsupposedtobehere.”

Irushtohim,grabbinghisarm,tryingtohughim.

“Babe,Ithoughttheyweregoingtokillyou.Andyou’realive,andIjustwanttoholdyou.Please.”

Hesoftensforamoment,andholdsmetohim,andIhearhisheartbeateventhoughI’mslumpedover

thebedrail.

“Iloveyou,”Itellhim.“Iloveyou.IwatchedyouontheTVmonitor,andallIwantedtodowas

touchyou.AndnowIam.”Istrokehisstrongarm,andIseethatitislitteredwithneedletracks.Bruises

anddriedblood.Iswallowhard.Thisisreal.Ithappened.

He’squietandIliftmyhead.

“Whydon’tyouwanttoseeme?”

Painricochetsthroughmyheartattheexpressiononhisface.It’sso…detached.Forciblydetached.

He’sdoingthisonpurpose.Butwhy?

“Youcan’tbearoundme,”hesayssimply.“YouorZuzu.I’m…notgoodforanyone.”

I’mstartled.“Pax,youarethebestmanIknow.You’renotthinkingclearlyrightnow.”

Heshakeshisheadandstaresoutthewindow,awayfromme.

“Youdidn’tseewhatIdid.Icavedinrightaway,Mi.Theywantedmetododrugs,andIdidthem.I

slippedintoaddictionsoeasily.Tooeasily.Iwasn’tstrongenough.I’llhurtyouagainandagain.Ican’t

bewithyou.”

Heswallowsandhiseyesarered.

“Babe,youdon’tknowwhatyou’resaying.Natashatoldme…shelacedthemusclerelaxersshegave

you.Shepurposelywasleadingyoudownthepathtoaddiction.Theyorchestratedeverything.”

“ButI’mtheonewhochosetouse,”hesayssimply.“Ididn’thaveto.”

“Ispokewiththedetectives,”Itellhimhesitantly.“Theytoldmewhathappened.Thosemenmade

you,Pax.TheythreatenedZuzu.Idon’tseethatyouhadmuchofachoice.”

“Theyweregoingtokillheranyway,”hesaysquietly.“Iknewthatfromthebeginning.IguessIjust

hoped…”hisvoicetrailsoff.

“She’salivebecauseofwhatyoudid,”Itellhim.“Youdelayeditlongenoughforthepolicetocome.

Yousavedherlife,Pax.”

Heshakeshishead,refusingtobelieveit.Iknowhim.Iknowhe’sinadarkplacerightnow,aplace

whereheisunabletoheargoodthings.Ihaven’tseenhiminthisplaceinyears,anditterrifiesmenow.

“They’redoingsurgeryonyourkneesoon,”Itellhim.“Areyouinpain?”

“Yeah.”

“I’msosorry,babe.”

Helooksaway.

“You’vegottoleave,Mila.Ican’thaveyouhere.”

“Butwhy?Iloveyou.Ineedyou.Andyouneedme,too.”

“Ican’tneedyou,”hesays,andhisvoiceissohuskyandbroken.“It’snotfairtoyouanymore.Walk

outthedoor,Mila.Don’tlookback.ItoldyouoncethatIwasn’tgoodforyou,andneitherofuspaid

attention.Andlookwhathashappened.Awolfcanonlypretendtobeharmlessforsolongbeforethe

truthcomesout.”

Hiswordshurtmesomuch,theycutdeep.“Yousaidloveneverfails,”Itellhim,andGod,thiscan’t

behappening.“Didyoulie?”

I’mstunnedandIdon’tknowwhattodo.Paxswallowshard.

“No.Lovehasn’tfailed,babe.Idid.”

Thewordscutthroughtheair,thesharpestofknivesandtheytwistintomyheart,untilIcan’tbreathe.

Mylungsareavacuumandtheyareempty.

“Youdidn’t,”Iargue,buthewon’tlisten.

Hegesturesaroundusatthesterileroom.“I’mhere,”hesayssimply.“Andnext,I’mgoingtorehab.

Youdeservebetter,Mila.Andyou’regoingtogetit.”

“Ideserveyou,”Iinsist,buthiseyesareclosednow,andhepressesthenurse’scallbutton.She

appearsimmediately,elderlyandstern.

“Mrs.Tatedoesn’twanttoleaveandI’mtired,”Paxsaysquietly.“Canyoushowherout?”

Thewomanstaresdownatmesympathetically,butshehasnochoiceotherthantodoasheasks.

“Wait,”Itellher.IhandPaxZuzu’spicture.“Yourdaughtermadethisforyou.”

Hiseyeswellupandhelooksaway.

“I’mnotleavingyou,Pax,”Itellhimovermyshoulder.“I’mnotgoinganywhere.”

Hedoesn’tanswer.WhenIlookovermyshoulder,asthedoorcloses,heisstill,hislashesonhis

cheek,andZuzu’spictureclutchedtohischest.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

WatchingMilawalkawayisthehardestthingI’veeverhadtodo.

Pushingthebuttonforthenursewashard.

Butshakingheroffmyarm,andsendingherout…thatwasexcruciating.Therejectiononherface…

It’sforthebest,Itellmyself.It’sforthebest.

Iliveinaplacenowthatisunsuitableforthem.Iliveinthedark,intheoblivion,andI’llneverbe

safefromit.I’llneverbeabletosaythatI’mimpermeabletoslipping.

IneverthoughtIwould.ButIdid.

I’llnevermakethatarrogantmistakeagain.

I’llneverthinkI’mstrongerthanIam.I’llneverdoubtmyabilitytofall.I’vefallenhard.AndI’mnot

sureifI’mgettingbackup.Idon’tdeserveit.

Thepaperinmyhandisfragile,andit’spriceless.Igazeatit,andIfeelthetearsstarttoswell.Me,

MilaandZuzustarebackfromthepageincrayonform.ZuhadmadeMila’sbellyround,toshowthebaby

thatwillbegrowingthere,andIcan’tswallow.Icanbarelybreathe.

Ipropituponthestandnexttothetable,andIfallasleepagain,becausesleepismedicine.

Ithealsmybrokenbody,andwhenIsleep,thepainofsendingMilaawayisdulled.It’salwaysthere,

buriedinmyheart,butwhenI’mnotconscious,it’snotassharp.It’snotasreal.

I’mresentfulwhenIwaketofindmyfatherstandingaboveme.

He’stroubled,concerned,andhe’sholdingmyhand.Hehasn’tdonethatsinceIwasachild.

“Iwasafraid,”hesayssimply.

Inod.“Iwastoo.”

“You’reok.”Hesaysitasastatement.Ishrug.Idon’tknowaboutthat.

“You’reok,”hesaysagain,morefirmlythistime.Asifsayingsowillmakeittrue.

“Idon’tknow,”Itellhim.“I’manaddict.Remembertellingmethatyearsago?Idenieditthen.Isaid

Iwasjustauser.ButI’mnot.I’manaddict.Iliedtomyselfthen,andIliedtoyou.Iburieditinsteadof

dealingwithit,andnowhereweare.”

“Thisisn’tyourfault,”hesaysandhisvoiceissoft.Ipullmyhandaway.

“Onthesurface,no.Itisn’t.Butdeepdown,itis.IfIhaddealtwithmyshityearsago,Imean,truly

dealtwithit,Iwouldn’tbeherenow.Iwouldn’tbehookedtoamethadonedrip.Iwouldn’thavejust

crushedmywife.ButIdidn’t.AndsohereIam,andIdid.”

Myfather’sfaceispained,andhetriestoreasonwithme,buthelovesme.He’stryingtoshieldme.

“IneedyoutotakecareofAlexanderHoldings,”Itellhim.“Canyoudothat?Canyouworkwith

Peterandfiguresomethingout?I’mobviouslynotintherightframeofmindforitrightnow.”

“Ofcourse,”hesaysquickly.“That’snotaproblem.I’mmoreworriedaboutyouthanthebusiness…”

“Don’tbe,”Itellhimabruptly.“I’mgoingtohandleit.”

“YouandMilahavebothbeenthroughsomuch,”hefinallyanswers.“Milahastoo.Shethoughtthey

hadkilledyou.She’shurtingtoo,son.”

God,thathurts.Itstabsmedeepintheheartandtheknifetwistsroundandround.

“It’sbetterthatIhurtherthisonelasttimethantokeephurtingherforever,”Imanagetosay.

“You’rewrong,”hesays.

“Youdon’tgetit,”Itellhimsharply.“IfI’dadmittedtomyselfyearsagothatIwasanaddict,I

could’velearnedtodealwithit.Withtheissuesthatmademeuse.Instead,Ijuststoppedusing,andI

pretendedthatitwasn’tanissue.Itwas.Anditis.AndhereIam.”

“Pax.Youstoppedusing.Thatwaswhatyouweresupposedtodo,”myfathersays.“Youdidtheright

thing.Sometimes,peoplehavelatentissuesthatreartheirheadslater.Youdidn’tknow.Youhadnoway

ofknowingthatyouhadotherthingstodealwith.Butwhat…whatexactlydoyoufeelyoudidn’tdeal

with?”

Ican’tanswer.

Ican’ttellhimthatafterallofthosehoursoftherapy,Istillfeelatfaultformymother’sdeath.ThatI

can’tunderstandthefactthatIwasakidandIwasjusttryingtoprotectmymother.Myheadknowsit,but

myheart…myheartisn’tlistening.Andmyheartiswhatdrivestheaddiction.

SoIdon’tanswerhim.Iclosemyeyesinstead.

Afteralongtime,myfather’svoiceisquiet.

“Therearealotofpeoplewholoveyou,son.Allofusstandbehindyou.You’renotalone.”

Heleaves.Ihearthedoorclose,andIopenmyeyes.

Iamalone.

I’minahospitalroomalone,andIchosethis.

It’sahellofmyownmaking.

Ispendaweekinthehospitalrecuperating.Theydothesurgeryonmyknee,andI’mupanddoingPTthe

verynextday.Irefuseanykindofpainmedication,andthepainisexcruciating.

Ipushthroughit.

ItremindsmethatI’malive.It’spunishing.Ideserveit.

AfterI’mreleased,Igostraighttoarehabfacility.Myfatherarrangedit,andRogerdrivesme.

“Thankyouforsavingmywife,”Itellhim,becausethisisthefirsttimeI’veseenhimsinceeverything

happened.“Weoweourlivestoyou.It’sadebtthatIcanneverrepay.”

Rogerdismissesit.“Anyonewould’vedonethesame,”hetellsme.“You’reagoodman,sir.Justlike

yourgrandfather.It’smyhonortohelp.”

“Pleasedrivemywifewhereversheneedstogo,ok?”Iaskhimashepullsuptothefacility.“Look

outforher.Willyoudothat?”

“Ofcourse,sir.Again,it’smyhonor.I’llwatchoutforherlikeyouwouldyourself…rightupuntil

youcomehome.”

Idon’ttellhimthatI’mnotcominghome.

“Thankyou,”Isayquietlyinstead.“You’reagoodman.”

Ilimpintorehab,leaningonacane.

Ibreatheinthepain,andbreatheouttheanger.Iamadragon,andmyairisfire.

Theyshowmetomyroom,andit’snicerthanIhadwanted,acornerroomwithaviewofgardens.I

hadn’twantedanythingfancy.Iwantedacotandatoilet.Leaveitmyfathertoensuremycomfort.

ItossmybagintotheclosetandIflopontothebed,face-downintothepillows.

Istaythiswayforalongtime.Idon’tevenknowhowlong.

“Areyouok?”

Thereisamuffledvoice,andIwavemyhandforthemtogoaway.Theydon’t.

“Areyouok?”Theyaremoreinsistentnow.

Isitup.

It’sawoman.

“Ithoughtthiswasamen’sonlyfacility,”Itellher,rubbingmyface.She’smiddle-aged,soft-spoken.

She’sdressedwell,classy.Hounds-toothslacksandacream-coloredturtleneck.Herhairispulledintoa

ponytailatthenapeofherneck.

“Itis,”sheanswered.“Sodon’ttellonme.”

Shecomesin,andpoursaglassofwaterfromapitcher,thenhandsittome.“Youneedtodrinkthis.It

flushesouttoxins.”

Isnort.“It’sgoingtotakemorethanthat,”Isay,butItaketheglassandgulptheliquiddown.Isetthe

glassdown,andthenitoccurstome.“You’remytherapist?”Iguess.

Shesitsinthechairnexttothebed.

“WhatifIam?Willyoutalktome?”

“Nottoday,”Ianswer.“I’mverytired.”

“You’vebeenthroughalot,”sheagrees.“Whydon’tyouresttonight,getsomethingtoeat,andI’llbe

backinthemorning.”

It’safirmsuggestion,saidgently.

“Ok.We’llseehowIfeelinthemorning.”

Shenodsandslipsoutthedoor.

IpullZuzu’sdrawingoutofmybag,andpropitonmynightstand.

ThenIfallbackasleep.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

ytherapistisbackinthemorning,thistimewithtwocupsofcoffee.Shehandsmeone.

Isipatit,andIrubmyface.Shehadn’tevengivenmetimetowake-up.

“Thisisanearlysession,”Ipointout.Shesmiles.

“Iworkbestinthemorning.”

“Idon’t,”Ireplyhonestly.Shesmiles.

“Tellmeaboutyou,”shesuggests.

Ipause.Idon’twantto.ButIknowthatuntilIgetthisover-with,it’sgoingtobelikethiseveryday.

“Wheredoyouwantmetostart?”

“Thebeginningisalwaysgood.”

Sothat’swhereIbegin.

Itellherabouteverything.Frommymother’smurder,tomychildhoodwithmyfather,tomy

relationshipwithMila,tomymarriage,andthroughmycaptivity.

“Thatleavesuswithtoday,”shepointsout.We’vebeentalkingfortwohoursalready.

“Yeah.”

“Whyareyouhere?”

“BecauseIdon’tknowwhatelsetodo.Ihavethis…monsterinsideofme.Anditwillrearitshead

fromnowuntileternityifIdon’tfiguresomethingout.”

“Ifwecanfigureitout,willyougobacktoMila?”sheasksgently.

Istarestraightahead.“I’llneverriskhersafetyagain.”

“Youknow,Pax.Badthingshappenintheworld.Theyaren’talltiedtoyou.Meaning…youdon’t

causethem.Youdon’tcontrolthem.Youunderstandthat,don’tyou?”

“You’rekidding,right?Thebadthingsthathavehappenedtoushavebeendirectlytiedtome,and

decisionsthatIhavemade.”

“That’showlifeis,though,”shesays.Hervoiceisgentleandsoothing,andIwonderhowmuch

trainingthatentailed…tomasterjusttherighttone.“Sometimes,thingshappenthatareoutofourcontrol.

Wemustdealwiththosethings,butweshouldn’tpushourlovedonesaway.”

“Youdon’tunderstand,”Itellher.

“Sohelpme,”shecounters.

“Later.Ican’trightnow.I’vehadenoughtoday.”

Shestandsup.

“Youhaveagrouptherapymeetinginthirtyminutes.”

Inod,andshe’sgone.Shetakestheemptycoffeecupswithher,andleavesmewithtroubledthoughts.

Imissmywife.

Imissmydaughter.

Imissmylife.

Isigh,andlaymyheaddownonthepillow.

Idon’tmeantofallasleep,butIdo,becausemybodyisraggedandexhaustedandneedstoheal.

WhileIsleep,Idream.

Idreamofmywife.Mydreamsarerichandcolorfulandfilledwithher.

WhenIwake,IfeelemptierthanIeverhavebefore.

Grouptherapyfeelsprettyuselesstoday,becauseIdon’tfeellikeIbelong.

Isitbackandobserve,andlistentotheotheraddictssharetheirissues,theirtriggers.Noneofit

seemstoapplytome.Foryears,Ididn’thavetheurgetouse.

Talkingaboutitthough,withthem,itmakesmeacheforthestingoftheneedle.It’sironic.Thevery

thingthatissupposedtohealme,ismakingmewantthepoisonallthemore.

Whenit’smyturn,theywaitformetospeak.Ilookaroundthecircle,andthey’reallwaiting,andI

havenothingtosay.

“I’mPax,andI’manaddict,”Isayslowly.“Iwasheldagainstmywill,andforcedtotakedrugs.The

guywhoarrangedthewholethingwantedtotakeeverythingimportantinmylife.Mysobrietywasjust

oneofthosethings.”

Icantellthatsomedon’tbelieveme.Igetit.Alotofaddictsmakeexcusesandevenmakeupstories

toexcusetheirdruguse.Theydon’twanttoadmitthattheythemselvesareatfault,becausethenthey

themselveswillhavetofixit.

Iunderstand.

Thatusedtobeme.

“Whydoyouwanttogetclean?”someoneasks,andIknowit’sanimportantquestion.Youhaveto

haveareason,inordertodoit.That’strueofeverygoalinlife.Ishakemyhead.

“I’mtiredofbeingchasedbydemons.I’mtiredofbeingadangertoeveryonearoundme.I’ma

tickingtimebomb.”

Theyacceptthat,andmoveontothenextperson.Isitlikeapieceofwoodfortherestofthemeeting.

Ifeeloutofplacehere,andIdon’tknowwhy.Iguessit’sbecauseIdon’twanttoidentifyasanaddict.

Butit’swhatIam.

“That’snormal,”mytherapisttellsmethenextmorning.“Youraddictionisapartofyouthatyoudon’t

completelyunderstand.Let’sworkthroughittogether,shallwe?”

Inod,andshecontinues.

“Yourchildhood.You’vetoldmethatyoufeltlikeyourfatherdidn’tlikeyou.”

“Iusedto.WhenIwasgrowingup.NowIknowthathewasjustreallystrugglingwithmymother’s

death.”

“That’sthefactofit,”sheagrees.“Butwhenyouwereaboy,youdidn’tknowthat.Youfeltrejected,

didyounot?Youfeltlikeyoucouldn’ttrustyourownfathertowantyou.Correct?”

Ithinkonthat,andthenInod.“Yeah.IguessIdid.”

“Andyourmotherleftyou.Shecouldn’thelpit,butshedid.Andyoufeltextremeguiltbecauseyou

knewthatitwasyourhandthatkilledher.Youfeltsomuchguiltaboutthatthatyousuppressedall

memoriesofit.”

Inod.“Yes.”

“So,youwereaverytroubledlittleboy,andnooneknewit.”

“I’vegotbaggage,”Iagree.“Weknowthat.That’swhyI’mhere.”

“Youexpressedthatbaggageinyourearlytwentiesbyusingdrugsandbeingsexuallypromiscuous.

Youwentthroughwomenlikewater,usingthemandtossingthemaside.”

Thatmakesmecringe.Itfeelslikesomeoneelse,notme,whodidthat.Butit’strue.Ididit.Inod.

“Whereareyougoingwiththis?”

“Youfeltlikeyoudidn’tdeservesomethingreal,”shefinallypointsout.“Itwasneveraboutthose

women.Itwasaboutyou,andhowyoufeltaboutyourself.”

Ithinkaboutthat.“Ialwaysgravitatedtothedrugusers,”Itellher.“Iguessbecausetheydidn’texpect

muchfromme.Theywantedtouse.Iwasabletogivethemthat.”

“Andinreturn,theysleptwithyou,”shesays,anditsoundssouglyoutloud.“Theygaveyouthe

façadeofintimacy,thebarestamount.Justenoughtokeepyoufunctioning,pretendingthatyourlifewas

justhowyouwantedit.”

“ItwashowIwanteditatthetime,”Iargue.

“Youonlythoughtthat,Ithink,”shesaysthoughtfully,chewingatherlip.“Youcouldn’tbearrejection

ofsomeonereal.Likeyoufeltyourfatherhadrejectedyou.”

I’mstunnedbythat.

Allalong,Ifeltthatmyissueswerecausedbymymotherdying,whichdidn’tmakealotofsense

becauseshecouldn’thelpthat.Shedidn’tchoosedeath.

Butmyfather…hechosetodrawawayfromme.Hepaidformyschool,hepaidforeverythingI

needed,hebailedmeoutoftroubletimeandagain.ButhewasneverabletogivemewhatIneededthe

most.

Hewasneverabletobevulnerableandshowthathelovedme.

“Hedoesnow,”Itellher,almostdefensively.“He’sagoodfather.”

“Yes,”sheagrees.“Icantell.Butwhenhewasyounger,andhewasinmourning,hecouldn’tmanage

himself,letalonehisrelationshipwithyou.Andyouweresosmall.Itwasaformativetimeforyou.And

nowyouhaveadeep-seededfearofrejection.”

That’swhyIalwayschosebarwhoresforyears.Theywouldn’trejectme.

Therevelationishuge.

“That’senoughfortoday,”shedecides,standingupandstretching.“We’llmeetagaininthemorning.”

Inod.“Okay.Thankyou.”

Whenshe’sgone,Icurlupinmybed,andIstareatthewall.

Imissmywife.Imissmydaughter.

Ireachforthephoneinamomentofweakness.ThereceiverisinmyhandbeforeIgaincontrolof

myselfandputitbackdown.

No.

I’mstrongenoughtodothisalone.

Iwon’tdragthemintomyshit.

Ifallsleep,andtheoblivionofsleepswirlsaroundmelikeadrug.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

henIwake,astampedletterissittingonmynightstand.

Themailcartmust’vegoneby.

IrecognizeMila’shandwritingontheenvelope,feminineandswirly.

Iswallowhard,andopenit.

Thereisnonote.Onlyaringdropsout.Hermother’sring.

LOVENEVERFAILS.Thosewordsareinscribedontheinside,andmyheartpounds.God,Imissmy

wife.

“What’sthat?”thetherapistbreezesthroughthedoor,hereyeonmyhand.Iholdupthering.

“Mila’sparentshadaroughmarriage,tumultuous.ButhermotherbelievedthatLoveneverfails,and

hadherringinscribed.Milawearsit.Shesentittome.Asamessage.”

“Thatherloveforyouhasn’tfailed,”thetherapistsaysslowly.

Inod.“Yeah.”Mythroatfeelstight.

“Yourwifeispregnant,isn’tshe?”sheasksgently.Inodagain.

“Yeah.”

“Youdon’tseemlikethekindofmantowalkoutonhisfamily,”shesays.Justhearingitputlikethat

sendsashiverupmyspineandangersme.

“I’mnotrunningoutonmyfamily”Isaythroughmyteeth.“I’mprotectingthem.I’mnotbalancedright

now.Imightnoteverbe.Atanymoment,Icouldslipanduseagain.IfI’mnotstrongenoughtostay

sober.”

“Howlongwereyousoberthislasttime?”sheaskscuriously.

“Overfiveyears.”

“Andwhydidyoustartusingagain?”Sheknowswhy.ButIhumorher.

“Itookpillsformyknee.Itneededsurgery.Andthen,well,LeroyEllisonarrangedtomakemeuse

drugs.Hewantedrevenge.”

Itsoundssoridiculousoutloud.Likesomethingfromamovie.

Shestaresatme.“Youjustsaid,hemadeyou.”

“Hedid.”

“Soyouwouldn’thavechosenit,”shepointsout.

“ButIchosetotakethemusclerelaxersformyknee,”ItellherandI’mangrynow.Iwanthertostop

tryingtomakemeseembetterthanIam.

“Butthosewerelacedwithmethamphetamines,”sheremindsme.

“Yes,but…”

“Nobuts,”shesaysgently,yetfirmly.“Theywerelacedwiththemostaddictivesubstanceknownto

man.”

“Yes,”Iadmit.“But…”

“Nobuts,”shesays,gettingup.“We’llresumethissessionafterdinner.”

Sheleaves,andI’mnothungry.IslipMila’sringonmypinkie.

Itmakesmefeelclosetoher.LikeI’mclose,butstillfarenoughawaynottohurther.Itripsmyheart

out.Iclosemyeyesandrestuntilthetherapistcomesback.

Thetherapistisrelentless.

“Doyouseetheparallels?”sheasksmeafteranhour.“Betweenthewayyouarebehavingrightnow,

andhowyourfatherbehavedwhenyouweresmall?”

I’msilent.

Shesmiles.“Youseeit.Hecheckedout.Hefeltthatdistancebetweenthetwoofyouwouldprotect

youfromhisgrief.Hefeltthathewouldhurtyouwithwordsthathecouldn’tseemtocontrol.Thathe

mightaccidentallyblameyouforkillingyourmother.Heknewitwasn’tyourfault,buthisheartwasstill

healing.Soheputdistancebetweenyou.

Andhereyouare.Youknowinyourheadthatyouraddictionrightnowisn’tsomethingyouchose.But

yourheartistellingyoutoprotectyourfamilyfromharm.”

“Theharmisme,”Itellher.“I’mthedanger.”

“Lifeisdangerous,”shepointsout.“Thereisariskineverything.Butyouareagoodman.Youare

strongandloyalandtrue.That’sallwecanaskofyou,Pax.That’sallanyonecanask.”

“Youdon’tunderstand,”Itellherhelplessly.

“ButIdo,”sheargues.“Morethanyouknow.”

Forsomereasonthatlumpisbackinmythroat,theonethatIcan’tswallow.

“Youfeelthatyouaren’tvaluableenoughtotakeariskfor,”shesayseversogently.“ThatMilais

betteroffwithoutyou,eventhoughshelovesyoumorethanherownlife.Shehastoldyouthatnumerous

times,yousaid.Andyourdaughter,andyourunbornchild,theyneedtheirfather.Justlikeyouneeded

yours.”

“ButIcouldhurtthem,”Itellherhotly.

Shenods.“Yes,youcould.Andyouwillhurtthemifyoudon’tgobackhome.Thatwilldomore

damagethananythingelseyoucoulddo.”

WesitinsilenceforafewminutesasIsoakthatin,asIconsiderit.

Couldshepossiblyberight?

Couldmyabsencetrulybeworsethananythingelse?

It’shardformetocomprehend.

“Itookthelibertyofgettingsomethingforyou,”shefinallysays,andshepullsoutanenvelope.“I

calledthedetectiveinchargeoftheinvestigation,andhesentthistome.Itarrivedyesterday.”

Shehandsthelastjournalpage,theoneI’dtoldherabout.Theonewiththebottomtornoff.

It’shardtolookatit,becausewhenIdo,Iremembersittingonthefloorwithagunpressedtomy

chin,readytotakemyownlife.

“Readitaloudtome,”shesays.“Iknowit’shard,becausesayingthewordsgivesthempower.But

please.Readthemaloud.”

Istareatthewords,andreluctantlygivethemmyvoice.

I’vethoughtalotovertheyearsaboutwhySusannahadactedlikeshedidthatnight.

Sherejectedme,andrefusedtogowithme,andIhavetoadmit,thatwasasurprise.Ittookthe

windoutofmysails.

Iknownow,though,whyshedidit.

Shemust’vefeltthatIwouldkillherson.

Shedidn’ttrustmewhenIsaidIwouldn’t.

IfithadonlybeenherandI,Iknowshewouldhavegonewithmeinasplitsecond.Iwould’ve

savedherfromthatlife.Buthersoncamein,andshehadtoputonashowforhim.Shehadtoactlike

shedidn’tlovemelikeIlovedher.Iknowitwasashow.Isawhowshe’dlookedatmeeverytimeI

deliveredtheirmail,dayinanddayout.Shewatchedme,andshewaslustfulandshewantedme.I

knowitnow,andIknewitthen.

Butsomewomen,theirinstinctstobemothersovertakeseverythingelse.

That’swhathappenedthatnight.

I’msureofit.

Shefoughtforthatsnot-nosedkid.Andintheend,Iaskedherwhy.Rightbeforeherushedinand

killedher,Iaskedherwhyshewasfightingsohardforhim.

Shelookedupatme,andhereyesweresowideandfulloftears.Andshesaid-

Istop,becausethat’stheend.

Thetherapistlooksatm,andIswearhereyesaremoistwithunshedtears.

“Whatdoyouthinkshesaid?”

Ishakemyhead,andputthepagedown.“Idon’tknow.”

“Don’tyou?”sheasks.

“No,Idon’t.Maybeshesaidthatshelovedme.”

Thatthoughtconstrictseveryoneofmymuscles,andIfeellikeasnakeistryingtosqueezethelifeout

ofmybody,agiantvisegripandmyribs…theycan’tbreathe.

Isuckinabreath.

Thetherapistlaysapieceofpaperinmylap.

Ilookdown.

It’sasmalltornpiece.Itmatchesthejournalpage.

Themissingpiece.

Myheartpounds.“Turnitoverandreadit,”shesayssoftly.

Withshakingfingers,Ido.

“He’sworthit.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

ndshesaid…he’sworthit,”Irepeat,andmyheart.God,itfeelslikeit’sgoingtoexplodewithan

emotionIdon’trecognize.

“You’reworthit,”thetherapisttellsmesimply.“Yourmotherknewit.Sheknewthatyouwereso

valuable,andsolovedbyher,thatshewouldwillinglygiveherlifeforyou.Shewantedyoutolive.She

wantedyoutothriveandbehealthy.Becauseyou’reworthit.”

“I’mworthit,”Isayaloud,andthewordsfeelforeign.I’malmostthirtyyearsold,andIneveronce

havefeltlikeI’mworthit.Irealizethatnow,inthisveryheavymoment.

“You’reworthit.”

Istareatthetherapist,andshestaresback.

“Doyoubelieveit?”

“Idon’tknow.”

“Thatisyourtask,”shesaysfinally.“Togettoaplacewhereyoubelieveyou’reworthit.Untilyou

do,youwon’thavepeace.”

“Mynamemeanspeace,”Itellher,off-hand.“MymotheralwayssaidIwasherpeace.”

Shenods.“Iknow.”

Idon’tremembertellingherthat,butIdon’tsayit.

“Iknowyourwifefeelslikeyou’reworthit,”shesays.“Andyourdaughter.Andyourunbornbaby

willsomedayfeelit,too.Youareagoodman,PaxTate.Iknewyouwouldbe,andyouare.”

Istareatthefloor,andtearsthreatentofall.Idon’tknowwhy.HearingsomeonesaythatIhave

value…ithaspower.

“Giveyourwifethechancetoloveyou,”shesuggests.“Shelovesyoumorethananything,andyou

loveher,too.Thatiswhatlifeisallabout.”

Shestandsup.

“Oursessionsareover,”shesays.“You’llcontinuewiththegroupsessionsfortherestofyourstay

here.It’sbeenverynicetospeakwithyou.CanIhugyou?”

Inod,andshebends,pullingmeintoawarmhug.

“

Shefeelssoftandfamiliar,andwhensheturnstoleave,Irealizesomething.

Shesmellslikehoneysuckle.

“Younevertoldmeyourname,”Ipointoutassheleaves.

Shepauses,staringoverhershoulder.

“No,IguessIdidn’t.”

She’sgonebutthescentofhoneysuckleremains,andI’mstunned,andit’sacoincidence.

“It’sacoincidence,”Isayaloud.“I’mlosingit.”

I’mjusttakingoldfeelingsandpinningthemonher,likewishfulthinking.

Ispendtheafternoonthinkingaboutthethingsshesaid,andpondering.Maybeshe’sright.MaybeIdo

havevalue.

MaybeIamworthit.

Aftergroup,Ipullasidethemaincounselor.“I’dliketohaveonemoreindividualsessionwithmy

therapist,ifthat’spossible,”Itellher.

Shestaresatme,confused.

“Youhaven’tbegunyourindividualtherapyyet.Thatbeginsinweektwo.”

“But…I’vebeenspeakingtoawoman,”Itellher.“Slim,blond,middle-aged,classy-looking.”

Sheshakesherhead.“Wedon’thaveanyoneherewhofitsthatdescription.”

“Areyousure?”Iaskweakly.

“Quite,”shenods.

Somehow,Imakeitbacktomyroomonmyweaklegs,anditstillsmellsvaguelyofhoneysuckle

inside.Lightandsoft,notthecloyingscentthatNatashahadworn.Ilookaround,atthefourwallsand

emptyroom.

“Thiscan’tbe,”Isayaloud,becausesayingwordsaloudgivesthempower.

ButIknowforafactthatI’vebeenspeakingwithsomeone.I’mnotimaginingit.

I’mshakyasIsitonthebed.

I’mshakyasIrememberthepastfewdays,andhowfamiliarandwarmIhadfeltwhilespeakingwith

her.Shemademefeelcomfortable.Safe.Secure.LikemysubconsciouswaspickingupthingsthatI

wasn’t.

Iamoverwhelmed.AndwhileI’veneverbelievedinanythingunexplainable,Iwanttobelieveinthis.

Iwanttobelievethatmymotherwashere.

Itgivesmehope,andhopeispriceless.

Ipickupthetornpaperlyingonmynightstand.

He’sworthit.

MaybeIam.

Ipickupthephone.

Icallmywife.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

ila

“Babe?”

Thevoicecomingfromthephoneissurreal.Husky.

“Pax?”Isitinthenearestchair,andmyfingersimmediatelybegintoshake.“Areyouok?”

“Yeah.I…Idon’tknowwhattosay.Imissyou.”

“Imissyou,too,”Itellhimquickly.“Areyouok?”

“I’manaddict,Red,”hesayssolemnly,buthecalledmeRed.

HecalledmeRed.Myheartsingswiththesoundofit.

“Iknow,”Itellhim.“Butwecandealwithit.Wecan,Pax.”

“Iknow.I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantomakeyoufeellikeIabandonedyou.I’msosorry.Foreverything.”

Mythroatchokesup.“Doesthismeanyou’recominghome?”

There’sapause.“Yes.Ifyou’llhaveme.AssoonasI’mdonewiththeprogram.”

Icrynow.Ican’thelpit.Isobandmyshouldersshake,andPaxtriestocomfortmefromtheotherend

oftheline.

“Babe,it’sok.Don’tcry.Idon’twantyoutocry.”

“Whatchanged?”I’mfinallyabletoask.

“It’shardtoexplain,”heanswers.“Mymom…shejusttoldmethatI’mworthit.Thejournal…Leroy

keptajournal.Andintheend,heaskedherwhyshewassacrificingherselfforme,andshesaidthatI

wasworthit.”

“Youare,”Itellhimquickly,andGod,thismakesmyheartbreak.“Youare.”

“So,”hecontinues.“I’mgoingtotrytocometotermswiththat.Toreallyunderstand,Imean,deep

down,thatIhaveworthandvalue.Idon’tthinkI’veeverbelievedthatwastrue.”

“Evenafterwe’vebeentogether?”Iask,confused.Howisthatpossible?

He’sslowtoanswer.“Notdeepdown,”hesays.“IthinkI’vealwaysfeltlikeIdidn’tdeserveyou.Or

anythinggood,actually.ThatI’djustluckedoutthatyoulovedme.”

“That’snottrue,”Iargue.“I’mtheluckyone,Pax.”

“Iloveyousomuch,”hetellsme,andhisvoiceisbroken.Itrytoimaginewhathe’sdoing.He’s

sitting,Ithink.Hunchedoverthephone.“Ican’tbelieveI’vedonethis.Ican’tbelieveI’mhere.”

“Babe,thiswasn’tyourfault.Pleasebelievethat.”

“I’mtrying,”heanswers.“Willyoucomeonvisitingday?Toseeme?”

“Trytokeepmeaway,”Itellhimthroughmytears.“Iwasalreadyplanningonbeingthere.”

Wetalkforalittlewhilelonger,andmyheartthreatenstoexplodewithmyloveforthisman.

Everythingelsethathashappenedfadesaway,andallthatmattersisPax.

“Thebaby?”heasks.“It’sok?”

“Yes.We’rebothfine.Zuzuisfine.Shemissesyou,butItoldherthatyou’regettingbetter.”

“Iam,”hetellsme.“Iam.TellherI’llbehomesoon.”

“Iwill.”Mythroatchokesupagain.“Iloveyousomuch.”

“Iloveyou,too.”

Wehangup,andIsuddenlyfeelstrongerthanIeverhavebefore.We’regoingtosurvivethis.Paxwill

surviveit.

I’mwaitinginthecommonsroomoftherehabfacilitytenminutesbeforevisitinghoursbegin.I’mfidgety

andmyfoottapsonthefloor.

“Isthisseattaken?”

Avoicefrombehindme.Myhusband’svoice.

Iturn,andleapfromthechair,andthrowmyarmsaroundhisneck.

Hesmellslikewood,andtheoutdoorsandman.

Helaughsintomyhair,andhishandsarestrokingmyback,andhisarmsarestrong.

“Imissedyou,”hetellsme,hislipsagainstmycheek.“Thankyouforcoming.”

“Trustme,youcouldn’thavekeptmeaway.”

“Iknow.Itriedthatbefore.Itdidn’twork,”heagrees.

Isnarlathim.“Don’tdothatagain.Whateverhappens,wefaceittogether.Doyouunderstand?”

Henods.“Yeah.Ido.”

Iholdhishandashegivesmeatour,showingmethegroundsandhisroom.

“Iseverythingallrightathome?”heasksaswesitonhisbed.Inod.

“Yeah.Rogerisfussingaboutlikeawoman.”

Paxlaughs.“Itoldhimtokeepaneyeonyou.”

“Sashaistryingtohireanewhousekeeperforme,butI’mnotreadyyet,”Itellhim.“Ijust…Ican’t.”

Shecan’topenourhometoastrangeragain.Icompletelyunderstand.

“Atsomepoint,we’llneedone,ifwestayinthathouse,”Ipointout.“It’stoobigtomanagealone.”

“Doyouwanttostaythere?”Iaskhim.Heshrugs.

“Idon’tknow.Doyou?Youweretheonelockedinourroom.”

“Forsomereason,Ihaven’tstruggledwiththat,”Itellhim.“Theonlythingthatbothersmeisthe

livingroom.Sashahadtherugsreplaced,becauseoftheblood,butI’vekeptthedoorsclosedandwe

don’tgointhere.Itfeels….well,it’sgotbadenergy.”

“I’mgoingtotalktomyfather,”hedecides.“We’llseewhatcanbedone.”

“Idon’tcareaboutthatrightnow,’”Itellhim.“Ijustwanttospendtimewithyou.”

Hepullsmeintohim,againsthischest,andheholdsmethere.Ilistentohisheartforminutesand

minutes,beforeIspeakagain.

“Iwanttocometotherapywithyou,”Itellhim.“Iwantustofacethistogether,asmuchaspossible.”

He’squiet,thenhenods.“Ifyou’dlike.”

“Iwould.”

Sothat’swhatwedo.

Icomefortherapywithhimthreetimesaweekfortheremainderofhisthree-weekstayinrehab.

HehastodoPTonhiskneeduringtheday,andindividualsessionsaswell,sohestaysbusy.

Everydayhegetsstronger.Iseeit.It’savisibleimprovement.

Hisfathervisitshim,andwhenhedropsbythehouseafterward,he’spleased.

“He’sbetterthanI’veeverseenhim,”heannouncesashesitsatthekitchentablewithmeforacupof

tea.“Helookssohealthy.”

“Heishealthy,”Isayproudly.“He’sdoingsowell.”

“DidhetellyouthatIattendedtherapywithhim?”Paulasksme.Thisisnews.Ishakemyhead.

“No.”

“Idid.Twice.Hehadsomepent-upissueswithme,issueshedidn’tevenknowhehad.AfterSusanna

died…Iwasn’tveryavailabletohim.I’msorryforthat.Iwasn’thandlingmygrief,anditaffectedhim.It

hasaffectedyou,aswell.I’mterriblysorryforthat.”

Ireachoutandsqueezehisarm.“Youdidn’tmeantohurthim,”Isay,andIcompletelybelievethat.

“Griefdoesstrangethingstoaperson.”

“Itdoes,’heagrees.“Itreallydoes.Iwashurtingthemostimportantpersoninmylife,anddidn’t

evenrealizeit.”

“Well,fromnowon,weonlygoforward,”Idecide,sippingmytea.“Andwedon’tdwellonthepast.

Isthatadeal?”

“Absolutely,”Paulagrees.Hepauses.“Also,IlookedatWilliam’swillagain.There’saclauseinit

concerningforcemajeure.”

“Forcemajeure?”Istareathim.

“Yeah.It’sasetofunforeseencircumstancesthatmightpreventsomeonefromfulfillingacontract.It’s

usuallysomethingnatural,likeahurricaneorsomething.Butsometimes,inacaselikethis,itcanbe

applied.”

“Acaselikethis?”

“Williamstipulatedthatyouhadtoliveinhishouse.Giventhecircumstancesthatyouwereheld

captiveinit,andsomeonediedinit,Ibelievethatforcemajeurewouldapply.IknowthatWilliam

wouldn’twanttoforceyouintostayingthereundertheseconditions.I’mgoingtospeakwiththejudge

overseeingtheestate,andseeifheagrees.Ifhedoes,youcansell,andbuyanewhouse,whilePaxcan

stilltakeoverhisgrandfather’sbusinessandfortune,asplanned.”

Relieffloodsme.“Thatwouldbeablessing,”Itellhim.“Ihateithere.”

“Iknowyoudo,”heanswers.“Buthopefullysoon,we’llgetitstraightenedout.”

Wefinishourteainsilence,andasPaulstandsuptogo,heturnstome.

“Thankyouforlovingmysonsomuch,”hetellsme,andhisvoiceisalittlechokedup.“You’vegiven

himthelifethatIalwaysdreamedhewouldhave.”

“He’sgivenmethelifeIalwaysdreamedIwouldhave,”Itellhim.“SoI’mgratefultoyoufor

bringinghimintothisworld.”

Hehugsme,andthenhe’sgone.

IwatchZuzuthroughthewindow,runningandplayingwithChelcie,andIcupmybellywithmyhand.

Soon,she’llhaveabrotherorsistertoplaywith.Andwe’llbeinabrand-newhome,withabrand-new

beginning.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

Threeweeksoftherapyhaspassedslowlyandquicklyatthesametime.

IwouldbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tcraveheroin.Ido.Itwillbeastruggleforsometimetocome.I

knowthat.ButIalsoknowI’mstrongenoughtowithstandit.

I’mworthit.

Ibelievethatnow.

I’mreadytogohometobewithmywifeanddaughter,andatthesametime,I’mafraid.I’mafraidof

failingthem.

ItakeadeepbreathasIpackmybag.

IputthepictureZuzumadeformeontop,whereitwon’tgetcrumpled.

WhenRogercomestopickmeup,Milaisn’taccompanyinghim.Myfatherstepsoutofthecar.I’m

disappointed,buttrynottoshowit.Helaughs.

“Expectingsomeoneelse?

Igrimace.Wasitthatobvious?”

Hesmiles.“You’vebeenawayfromyourwifeforweeks.Trustme,Iunderstand.I’mtakingyoutoher

though.Shewantsyoutocometoher.”

“Whereisshe?”

“It’sasurprise.”

“Miladoeslovesurprises,”Inod.I’msohappytobeleavingandgoinghome,thatIdon’tevenmind

notknowingwhat’sgoingon.Thecarglidesawayfromthecurbandmyfatherchatsidlyaboutbusiness,

andIonlyhalfwaylisten.

I’mgoinghometomywife.

That’sallthatmatters.

I’mstrongenoughforthis,Iremindmyselfforthetwentiethtimetoday.I’mstrongenough.”

Thecarweavesamongthetraffictotheothersideofthecity,andthenoutoftrafficintotheoutskirts

oftown.Wepassthroughagate,guardedbyasecurityguard.It’sahousingdevelopment,withhomes

spacedveryfarapartfromeachother.

It’snice.It’supscale.

Mycuriosityispiqued.

Wepullintoonelongdriveway,adrivepavedwithstone.Thecarweavesupthecurve,andstopsin

frontofabeautifulhouse.

Notsmall,nottoolarge,it’sperfect.It’sexteriorisstone,andit’ssolidandgraceful.Iliftaneyebrow

atmyfather.Heshakeshishead.

“Gofindoutforyourself.”

RogeropensmydoorandI’moutthedoor.Mykneeisstillstiff,evenwiththePT,soIcanonlymove

sofast,butIgettothefrontdoorasfastasIcan.

MilaopensitbeforeIcanringthedoorbell,herfaceradiant.

“Welcomehome,babe,”shesays,gesturingmeinwithagrandsweepofherarm.“Ihopeyouloveit.”

I’mspeechlessasIenter,treadingovergleamingwoodfloors.It’scomfortablehere.Verynice,yet

stillverycomfortable.Wepassthroughaformaldiningroomandabutler’spantryandintoalarge

kitchen.

“Yourfathermadeitsowecouldsellyourgrandfather’shouse,”Milatellsme.“Ihopeyoudon’t

mindthatI’veboughtthisone.Iwantedyoutocomehometoanewstart.Someplacewecanstartfresh

withnewmemories,notuglyoldones.”

“I’veneverbeenhappier,”Itellherhonestly.Shegrins.

“Letmeshowyouourbedroom.”

Sheleadsmeintothemastersuite,andit’sawashwithgraysandcreams,thelightstreamsin,andit’s

allverysoft,verysophisticated.“Theshowerisextratallforyou,”shetellsme,assheleadsmein.And

itis.It’stheperfectsizeforme,andthere’sasoakingtubforMila.

“We’regoingtobehappyhere,”Itellher.Shenods.

“Yes,wewill.”

Wemakeourwaythroughtherestofthehouse,throughZuzu’sroomandwhatwillbethenursery.

“Ican’tbelieveyougotthistakencareofinjustacoupleofweeks,”Ifinallytellheraswesitinour

newlivingroom.Itisdecoratedinawarmcoastalstyle,laidbackandcasual.

Myfatherpipesin.“Yourwifeisaforcetobereckonedwith.”

Iglanceather.“That,Iknow.”

Shelaughs,andZuzusitsonmylap,herblondhairagainstmychest.Ipullathercurlsgently,andI

don’tforgettheonethatIhaveinmypocket.I’vebeencarryingitwithmetorememberthethingsthat

matterthemost.

“Thisroomismissingonething,”Itellmywife.Herheadsnapsup.

“Iforgotsomething?”

IwhisperintoZuzu’sear,andshegrins,thenrunsoff.Shereturnsafewminuteslater,thepicturethat

shehaddrawnofourfamilyinherhand.

“I’dliketogetthisframedandputinhere,”Isay,andMila’ssmilelightsuptheroom.

“Ithinkthat’sperfect.”

WesitandchatuntilwellpastZuzu’sbedtime,andthenmyfatherexcuseshimselftoleave.

“Don’tbeastranger,”Itellhimashehugsme.

“Iwon’t,”hepromises.

MilaandItakeZuzutobed,andtuckherin.Wereadherastory,andthentwo,andfinally,wetiptoe

outintoourownbedroomdownthehall.

AfterMilatakesabath,andItakeashower,weclimbintoournewbed.

“Ithoughtthismomentwouldnevercome,”ItellMila,andshecollapsesintome,herheatandher

softnessmeshedagainstmyhardness.

“Meeither,”sheadmits.“Iwasreadyforbedtime.”

Istarttokissher,andshekissesmebackwithsoftlipsbeforeshepullsaway.

“Ineedyoutopromisethatyou’renevergoingtotryandfacelifewithoutmeagain,”shesays.“We’re

ateam.Forbetterorforworse,always.”

“Always,”Iagree.“Ipromise.”

Andthen…

Then…

Iattackher.Icrushherlipstomine,andIinhaleherthewayI’vebeenwantingtoforweeks.She

smellssofamiliar,somine,andIsoakherup,likesunshineonacoldday.

Shereacts,andherlegsliftupandaroundmyhipsandmybreathingisalreadyragged.

Sheslidesherhandalongmychestandkissesmehard.“Idon’twanttohurtyou,”Itellherbecause

she’spregnant,andI’mfranticalready.

“Youwon’t,”shepromises.“Makelovetome,Pax.I’vebeenwaitingforweeks.”

SoIdo.

Igentlymakelovetomywife.Sheismine,andIamhers,andwecometogetherinourbedlikewe

willneverseeeachotheragain.Somethingwe’vecertainlylearnedisthattomorrowisneverpromised.

ShearchesherbackandpressesintomeandIslideinside,gently,easily,thenwithmoreandmore

thrust.

“Iloveyousomuch,”Ibreatheintoherneck.“Iloveyousomuch.”

“Iloveyou,too.”

SheshuddersagainstmeandmoansmynameandIcan’tholdoutanymore.

Myentirebodyshakeswithmyrelease.

Wemakelovethreemoretimesinthenight.Gently,rougher,thengentlyagain.Wearetwopeople

whocan’tgetenoughofeachother.IgetascloseasIcan,pullingherskintomine,butitwillneverbe

enough.

Bymorning,weareatousledmess.

Zuzurunsinatfirstlight.

I’msleepy,butIopenmyarmsandshejumpsintothem.

“Daddy!”sheshouts,bouncing.“Timetogetup!”

“Mommykeptdaddyawakelastnight,“Itellher.“Daddy’ssleepy.”

Zuzuglaresathermother.“Mommy,whydidyoudothat?Daddyhastotakemetothepark!”

“I’msuredaddywillbefine,”Milapromisesher.“Gogetdressed,pumpkin.”

“GabeistakingEli,too,”shetellsme.“Soyouguyscangotogether.MaddyandIaregoingtogo

shoppingfornurseryfurniture.”

“Norestforthewicked,then,”IrollmyeyesasIclimboutofbed.

“Ithoughtitwouldbebesttogetrightintoanormalroutine,”shetellsmeworriedly.“Wasthatok?”

IstopwhatI’mdoingandcomeroundthebedtoher.Icupherfaceandmakeherlookatme.

“Don’tworryabouttryingtomakelifenormalforme,”Itellherfirmly.“It’slife.Wecan’talways

controlit,butitwillalwaysbeours.We’lltakeitasitcomes.Butyes,I’mperfectlyfinewithgoingwith

Gabetothepark.Surely,betweenthetwoofus,wecancontroltwochildren.”

Milasmilesandkissesmesweetly,andI’malreadylookingforwardtobedtimeagain.Itellherthat.

“Metoo,”sheadmits.

“Let’smeethereagaintonight?”Isuggest.

Shenods.“It’sadate.”

“Let’smakeitastandingdate,”Iadd.“Say…forthenextsixtyyearsorso?”

Milaisradiantassheagrees.“I’llpencilyouin,”shesaysandIpullhertome,andallisrightwith

theworld.

“Useapermanentmarker,”ItellherandIkissheruntilshe’sbreathless.

“Ialmostforgot,”shesays,andshe’sflusteredasshegetsintothedrawerofhernightstand.Shepulls

outsomethingwrappedintissue.

“YouknowhowBrandlikestomakethingsoutofleather?”

Inod.

“Iaskedhimtomakeitforyou.Ididn’tknowifyou’dwearitornot,but…”hervoicetrailsoffasI

openit.

It’saleatherbracelet.Wordsarestampedonit.

MYDEMONSDONOTCONTROLME.

“Ithoughtitcouldbeareminderforyou,”shesayshesitantly.“Imean,youprobablydon’tneeda

reminder,butitneverhurts,right?”

“It’sperfect,”ItellherasIsnapitontomywrist.“I’llweariteveryday.”

“Youwill?”

“Iwill,”Inod.“OfcourseIwill.”

IfollowheroutofthebedroomandIglanceatmywrist.Thewordsstarebackatme,wiseandtrue.

Mydemonsdon’tcontrolme.

Notanymore.

I’mgoingtoliveasober,healthy,happylife,surroundedbypeopleIlove.

I’mworthit.

EPILOGUE

ila

Sevenmonthslater

Sometimes,I’mstilljumpyinthenight.

It’snormal,theytellme.Whenapersonhasgonethroughwhatwedid,withapersoninvadingour

home,it’simpossibletonotthinkofitattimes.

Iusuallythinkofitinthenight,whenthingsgobumporshadowsmoveonthewalls.

Weliveinagatedcommunitywithaguard,andourhomehasastateoftheartsecuritysystem,so

thereisnoreasontofear.We’remorecarefulnow,aboutthepeopleweallowintoourlives.Wehaveto

be.

Iwalkdownthehalltothebaby’sroom.“Shhhh,Ethan,”Itellhim,asIpickhimupoutofhiscrib.

“It’sok,babe.It’sok.”

Isettleintotherockernearby,androckhimasInurse.

Ihumalullaby,andstaredownathissweetlittleface.

HealreadylookslikePax.Hehashisnose,hiseyes.Eventhecleftinhischin.Ilovethat.Irockhim,

andholdhimtight,andsingandsing,untilhisbellyisfinallyfullandhefallsbacktosleepinmyarms.

Hisroomissoothingandquiet,acalmgreenwithcreamcoloredfurniture.It’sperfectforababy,and

it’sonlystepsfromourownbedroom.Itakeadeepbreathandinhalethehoneysucklescent.We’dhad

honeysuckleplantedallaroundthehouseandithadtakenrootandgrownlikecrazy.Imust’veleftthe

windowopenearlier.

Ituckthebabybackintohiscrib,andponderthepastfewmonths.

LeroyhadfinallybeentiedtoNatasha’scrimes,andhewillnevertastefreedomagain.Paxhasgone

backtowork,andhe’sstillsoberandstrong.Hegoestonarcoticsanonymousmeetings,andhe’sstillin

therapy.

He’sputtinginthework.

We’rehappierthanwe’veeverbeen,andnowourlittlefamilyiscomplete.Ethansleepspeacefullyin

hiscribasproof,hislittlehandcurledupunderhischeek.

Ibendovertherailingandkisshimonhishead,inhalinghissweetsmell.

There’snothingbetterthanthatsmell.

Ismileandheadtothewindowtocloseit,onlywhenIgetthere,it’salreadyclosed.

I’mconfusedforaminute,becausethehoneysucklescentfillstheroominawaythatshouldhappen

onlyifthewindowwasopen.

ButI’mtired,andmaybemyolfactorysensesareworkingovertime.

Ipauseatthedoor,andlookbackinside,andafeelingofsuchwarmthandsecurityandcomfort

comesovermethatIclosemyeyesandjuststandstill,experiencingitwithallofmymight.

Thewarmfeelingenvelopesme,comfortingme.

Thisishome.

Ileavethedoorajar,andreturntobedwheremyhusbandwaits.

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

ourtneyColeisaNewYorkTimesandUSATodaybest-sellingauthor,bestknownforher

BeautifullyBrokenseriesandNocteTrilogy.Shelovesromance,twistedplotsandhappily-ever-afters.

She’swildlyinappropriate,collectshulagirls(thedashboardkind,notreallifewomen)andloveswine.

Tolearnmoreabouther,visit

www.courtneycolewrites.com

OTHERCHARACTERSINTHISSERIES…

freadmoreabouttheothercharactersinthisseries(Pax’sfirststory,Gabe,BrandandDominic

Kinkaide),pleasecheckouttheothertitlesintheBeautifullyBrokenseries.

TheBeautifullyBrokenSeries

IfYouStay(BookOne,Pax’sstory)

IfYouLeave(BookTwo,Gabriel’sstory)

UntilWeBurn(Prequelnovellatobookthree,anintroductiontoDominic)

BeforeWeFall(BookThree,Dominic’sstory)

UntilWeFly(BookFour,Brand’sstory)

Document Outline

1. My Peace
Prologue
2. Chapter One
3. Chapter Two
4. Chapter Three
5. Chapter Four
6. Chapter Five
7. Chapter Six
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
15. Chapter Fourteen
16. Chapter Fifteen
17. Chapter Sixteen
18. Chapter Seventeen
19. Chapter Eighteen
20. Chapter Nineteen
21. Chapter Twenty
22. Chapter Twenty-One
23. Chapter Twenty-Two
24. Chapter Twenty-Three
25. Chapter Twenty-Four
26. Chapter Twenty-Five
27. Chapter Twenty-Six
28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
31. Chapter Thirty
32. Chapter Thirty-One
33. Chapter Thirty-Two
34. Chapter Thirty-Three
35. Chapter Thirty-Four
36. Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
37. About the Author
38. Other characters in this series…

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