Page 40 of Double Fault

When the doors slide open, I choke back the emotion threatening to bubble over and head down the hall.

Inside, I don’t hear or see Maddie, but Sabrina is settled on the couch, legs curled under her. Her hair is pulled back withsome sort of bandanna thing, and she’s changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. I hold the coffee out to her without a word.

She takes it, the bright pink color of her nails snagging my attention.

Maddie went on and on about how Sabrina let her paint her nails. I’m pretty sure when I fell asleep, she was still talking about it.

“Where’s Maddie?”

“Shower.” She takes a sip of the coffee. “How are you?”

I huff, dismissive. “Fine.”

With a roll of her eyes, she sets her coffee on the table. “Don’t be stupid. I meant after the interview.”

“Fine,” I answer again.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to actuallytalk.” She ducks her head, averting her eyes in a shy way that is not at all in character for her. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

It’s like I can’t help but be an asshole to her. Every day, the attraction I feel toward this woman only pisses me off more. I’ve only ever been with my wife, and I’ve only ever had eyes for her. Until now. The way I feel about Sabrina has completely thrown me for a loop.

“I’m okay.”

She lowers her chin and shoots me a glare, clearly unimpressed with my elaboration.

“I should’ve expected them to bring it up, but it caught me off guard.”

“I’m sorry they did that to you. He should’ve been more sensitive to your loss.”

The sincerity in her eyes and tone of voice are like a single stitch keeping the two halves of my heart from separating completely.

Throat thick with emotion, I choke out a “thanks.”

It seems as though, according to the world, men shouldn’t grieve. At least not for long. I’m the head of my household, so I’m supposed to put on a brave face and not let my emotions get the best of me. But grief drains the life out of those who suffer from it. At times, it felt like I was dying right alongside Annie. Now that she’s gone, I’m a different person, and I haven’t figured out how to function in this world as this new version of myself.

Now that I’ve returned to such a public space, it doesn’t feel as though I’m allowed to be sad. It doesn’t feel as though I can deny the media’s desire to talk about my wife. I’m still grieving, and I don’t want to have to put on a façade so the world can feel more comfortable. I don’t want to pretend to be okay when I’m not.

Especially when I’m in such a complicated spot, torn between grief and this new unexpected attraction to Sabrina.

“I can’t pretend to know how you feel, but if you want to talk to someone who doesn’t know a lot about you or your life, then I’m here.”

I rub my jaw, the stubble rasping against my fingers. “I appreciate it.” I have no intention of taking her up on it, but her offer is commendable, since I haven’t exactly been the kindest to her.

“You’re welcome.” She stands, and a moment later, the door to her room clicks shut.

I lean back on the couch, stretching my legs out wide.

Before I can get too comfortable, a pounding on the door echoes through the room.

“Here to chew me out?” I ask when I let my best friend in.

“No.” He glowers, hands on his hips. “I’m here to ask if you’re okay, you fucking asshole.”

With a shrug, I step aside to let him in. “As okay as I can be.” I drop back onto the couch. “Should I order drinks?”

Fisher joins me, sitting in the spot Sabrina just vacated. “Only if you want one for yourself. I’m fine.”

I pick up my coffee. “This is enough for me.” Silence settles between us for a long moment. “There’s nothing wrong with what Shawn said, but it just…” I clench my jaw and zero in on the paper cup in my hands. “I guess I wasn’t prepared for it.”

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