Page 200 of Bound By Her

“I came home, and she was just lying there on the foyer floor,” Frances sobbed into the phone.

Every time Adria got her calmed down, she would say something that would send Frances spiraling back into tears.

When Loretta came home from the hospital, Adria would add security to Loretta’s home. Frances hadassured her that was unnecessary. It was only an accident. Except in Adria’s world, there were no accidents.

The photo being delivered to her the same day Loretta was put on life support was no coincidence. Adria pressed on her chest in an effort to hold herself together.

Her heart ached.

Everywhere she looked, her life was falling apart. Systematically, she was losing everything she had ever cared about. She struggled with the urge to fold Eric up and keep him in her pocket. Not willing to lose anyone else.

When the soft glow of twilight was long gone from the house, Adria made her way, barefoot, to the kitchen.

She dished herself three scoops of Rocky Road ice cream, the cold tile on her feet a welcome reprieve. Grabbing a spoon, she pushed herself onto the counter.

Adria liked the house like this. Silence reigned, and shadows slept. The stillness of it overpowered the war raging inside of her and, for the first time in days, she relaxed.

Her moment of calm was brief.

A sound at the far end of the kitchen caught her attention.

She turned just in time to see Bryson slip in through the patio door.

Moonlight kissed his skin, damp and glistening from a run, his breath just beginning to settle.

Didn’t he sleep?

His casual posture made it clear he didn’t know or expect her to be in there. Which was for the best, because she didn’t need his level of complicated tonight.

He rummaged through the freezer before coming out with the same ice cream she had just put away. Adria watched the tattoo of the large peony on his left arm flex and turn. Three pink petals falling from it.

Of the three boys, Bryson had the most color. Mostwere Nine related, but some were not. Adria absentmindedly traced the angel on her right arm.

Loretta’s words rang in her ears.

Just talk to them.

It really wasn’t a great time, she reasoned with herself.

Loretta would say, “There is never a right time.”

“Can’t sleep?” she asked into the stillness.

Bryson froze, glancing over his shoulder.

At first, he didn’t see her—Adria was tucked in the darkness, all shadows and silence.

She let him sweep the room again before leaning into a slant of moonlight.

When he finally saw her, she expected the usual sarcasm, the sharp deflection followed by retreat. But instead, he hesitated near the island, then moved to sit beside her on the counter.

“Seemed like an ice cream kind of night,” he said.

She lifted her silver bowl. “Seems like it.”

Adria held her spoon aloft. After a heartbeat of hesitation, Bryson lifted his own and clinked hers.

“My mother and I used to do that,” she said quietly. “When my father was out late.”

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