Page 67 of The Woman Left Behind

He heard murmuring behind him.

It stopped and Ronetta was standing beside him.

“George is coming,” she said.

He looked down at her.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Her gaze rose to his. “Sometimes, the world doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You’re poorer, never having met them,” she declared.

“I know.”

Her lip trembled.

Harry slid an arm around her shoulders.

She gave him her weight.

“She’s going to come undone,” Ronetta warned.

“Reckon so.”

“George might too, just so you know. Sonny and my husband were two peas in a pod.”

“Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Knew you were a good egg,” she said under her breath.

That felt good, but Harry didn’t reply.

Five minutes later, Lillian’s Subaru rolled up the street and into her drive.

Harry looked back down at Ronetta. “George know to come next door?”

She nodded.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

She shook her head, but said, “Let’s go.”

He watched her draw in a deep breath, and only when she let it go did he take his arm from her shoulders, and they walked to the door, out it, across her lawn, and Lillian’s.

They were walking up the front steps when Lillian opened her door.

Her gaze pinging between Harry and Ronetta, she otherwise didn’t move out of the doorway.

He stopped in front of her, and before he could say anything, she seemed to be walking, or even falling, back.

Swiftly, Harry reached out to catch her, but instead, she listed forward, put her hand on his chest, and her touch seared right through his uniform, right into his skin, doing this like a brand, one he’d wear with honor for the rest of his life.

Then she collapsed into him.

And the sobs came.

---