Everafter Series 1 - Everafter Read Online Free PDF Page B

the hypothetical terror was enough to steal the breath from my lungs again.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She was staring hard at the splash marks on the floor where her tears had landed. “I know this isn’t what you need from me right now. I’m sorry.”
    She was wrong. I was next to helpless—bruised and broken, haunted and scared. There wasn’t much I could do except hold her, but I could do that. I wanted to be strong, and in this one small way, I could be.
    “Don’t you dare apologize,” I breathed into her hair and let the words bubble up from the well of emotion that she had opened inside my soul, only ten short months ago. “I need you to need me. When I imagine how you must have felt…God, baby, it would have destroyed me. You’ve been a rock. But you can’t be one all the time. It’s okay. I love you. It’s going to be okay.”
    Gradually, her quick, hitching breaths became slow and deep, and her body softened against mine. After a few minutes, she raised her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed but clear. Back in control of herself, she regarded me steadily.
    “I know you’re exhausted. Why don’t you rest on the couch until the detective gets here? I’ll call her right now.”
    “Okay.” I leaned forward to lightly kiss her cheek, determined to be an obedient patient. Still, when she handed me the gray, foam-handled cane, I couldn’t help but grimace. Before last week, I had been able to run a mile in under seven minutes without even pushing. Now I could barely walk.
    Sighing, I hobbled around the table toward my side of the couch. As I passed the opening to the kitchen, my nose wrinkled. The skillet of vodka sauce was exactly where I had left it, covered on the front left burner. On the counter nearby was a plate piled high with homemade noodles. I limped close enough to the sink to witness the green and purple mold that had wrapped itself around the thick strands of fettuccini. The sauce probably looked even worse. The sharp odor of decay was a far cry from the aroma of basil and shallots that had filled the air when I’d last stood here.
    “…appreciate it, Detective,” Alexa was saying. She snapped her phone shut as she came up behind me and rested one hand on my waist. “What are you—oh. That is gross.”
    “Looks like somebody’s science experiment,” I said around the lump in my throat.
    Alexa moved, placing herself directly in my line of sight to the stove. She kissed me again, smoothing one thumb over the dark circles under my right eye. “Whatever you had planned for that night—thank you. It was…it was going to be beautiful.”
    She had no idea. Forcing myself to smile a little, I let her lead me over to the couch. When she asked if I needed anything, I asked for some water. Incessant thirst had been plaguing me since I’d woken up—no matter how much I drank, my throat was always parched. After draining the glass, I leaned my head back against the cushions. The sounds of Alexa cleaning up the kitchen were soothing. As my eyes drifted shut, I wondered how long it would take me to get back to normal. And how I was ever going to make up all the work I had missed from my classes. And whether I would ever be able to banish the fear that some kind of awful memory would resurface.
    Mercifully, a knock interrupted my thoughts. I watched enviously as Alexa jogged to open the door. Running was one of our favorite things to do together. I wouldn’t be able to join her for months now.
    “Please come in, Detective.”
    Foster was dressed more casually today, in khakis and a blazer. I had the chance to watch her unobserved for a few seconds as the two of them chatted briefly, and was surprised to find that she pinged my gaydar. It wasn’t that she looked queer per se, but that the way she looked at Alexa was…appreciative. Then again, Alexa routinely turned the heads of straight women.
    I was working on getting to my feet so that I could shake the detective’s hand properly,