Page 33 of Love is Blind

Damn him.

“Okay, these should fit you,” Holly says, and I quickly release the tee. She pushes a pair of pants into my arms and takes a step back. “Tell me when you’re decent.”

This has to be the weirdest morning in the history of mornings. That being said, I drop my ass onto the edge of the bed and pull the leggings on. If you can’t beat them, join them.

Snapping the elastic band against my stomach, I blow the hair away from my face and inform her that I’m dressed. She steps forward and I feel her hands at the hem of the t-shirt.

“What are you doing now?” I ask, fighting the urge to smack her hands away. She lifts the shirt, exposing my stomach and ties a knot under my breasts. “There, perfect. Now, just slip your feet into the boots. I’ve already got your jacket and Ghost said your cane is on the dresser. Let me grab it.”

In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve concluded that Holly isn’t the type of woman you argue with, so I shove my feet into the rubber rainboots and wait for her next command.

“Here,” she says, taking my hand. She closes my fingers around the cane and gives my elbow a squeeze. “Now, you just walk out there with your head held high and let me do the rest.”

She makes it sound so simple.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve done the walk of shame, huh?” I ask.

I expect her to laugh, but her tone grows serious.

“Girl, this is no walk of shame,” she insists, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Ok, I’m only going to say this once and if you give me up, I’m going to deny it.”

“Noted,” I say, although I’m not sure there’s anything she can tell me that will make this situation better.

“Ghost rarely ever lets a girl stay the night. It’s not my place to tell you what happened or who that woman is, but I will say that her presence this morning opened a lot of wounds for Ghost. Wounds that haven’t had the time to heal and possibly never will. When a man breaks apart like he broke this morning and somehow still manages to send someone he trusts to look after the girl he left in his room, that says something. It tells me you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

My hand tightens around the cane and I pull in a deep breath. I want to believe her, but I also don’t want to be a glutton for punishment.

“Ready?” Holly asks.

That sounds like a loaded question.

“I suppose,” I reply as I unfold my cane.

I take another breath and give in because that’s what I do. I’m the queen of bad decisions. A fool who wants to believe in sparks.

“Lead the way.”

“Thatta’ girl,” she praises.

As we walk out of Ghost’s room, I realize I’ve said more words to Holly this morning than I have to the man I spent the night with and oddly enough, it felt as though I was talking to an old friend. Sure she stuck her nose in my business and made me more confused than I already was, but she didn’t shame me or make me feel like a burden.

“Holly?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I murmur. “I’m really glad you’re not Ghost’s wife.”

I wish things would’ve gone differently, but I am grateful to Ghost for having enough decency to send Holly for me.

“No thanks necessary,” she says.

Then she leads me down the hallway.

I don’t know what kind of reaction Holly was anticipating, but I don’t think she got it. Ghost didn’t say a word when we hit the main room.

Not even goodbye.

Chapter Eight

---