Page 43 of The Truth You Told

“Oh.” Shay grabbed for his hand.

They sat like that for an hour. Shay wasn’t even sure where Max was, but right now she couldn’t care. All she could think about was being a solid presence so that Beau could let go.

He didn’t cry. She wasn’t surprised.

Beau had a complicated relationship with his father, one that couldn’t be summed up by weeping or rejoicing. It was best described as exactly this: a dark kitchen floor and a bottle of alcohol.

A tiny, traitorous part of Shay was happy they would no longer be on the hook for the man’s medical bills. If the state hadn’t been picking up most of the total, they would have gone bankrupt by now.

It was a relief.

And it was a crappy thing to think.

That probably made her a bad person.

“He died a long time ago,” Beau finally said. “That wasn’t Dad in there.”

Shay nodded, her fingers finding a small, round scar on Beau’s hand. If you didn’t know the damaged skin was there, it could go unnoticed. She knew it was there. She’d seen it happen.

People were complicated, though. If Hillary cleaned up her act, if she put in time and actually tried hard to be a good mother, would Shay cut her out of her life anyway?

Clearly not. She couldn’t even do it when Hillary was still a mess.

Billy had become something like a good guy for the last decade of his life. Maybe that wasn’t enough to earn him a spot in heaven, but it had earned him a relationship with Beau.

They didn’t say anything the rest of the night, but Shay stayed right there with him until morning.

In the coming days, Shay did what she could to help him with the funeral arrangements.

Do you want me to come?Callum had texted her a few days before.I can.

She’d stared at the message for too long. What were they doing? It had been seven months since that first night. Neither of them was seeing anyone else.

But Max was twelve. That meant six more years where Shay was her legal guardian. Even if Shay was ridiculous for thinking so far out—what would they do to move the relationship forward? She couldn’t just drag her family up to Washington, which might as well be another country to the three of them. Callum couldn’t move down here, either. Where would he fit into her life? Hell, where would he fit into her house?

The whole thing was too complicated for what had started out as a one-night stand.

Her thumbs hovered over the keys, until she finally sent just one word.Please.

On the day of the funeral, she was incredibly thankful for that weak moment. Beau hadn’t reacted at all to the news that an FBI agent would be joining them, and Max had just shrugged. She never got as nervous around law enforcement as Shay did, and it made Shay doubt her own memory sometimes. But Max had been only eleven when everything had happened—maybe she didn’t even fully realize what she’d done.

They all drove to the church in silence, Beau and Max in the front, Callum and Shay in the back.

Halfway there, Callum reached out for Shay’s hand, and she gladly let him take it.

The service was poorly attended. Most of Billy’s friends had mourned him already and moved on. Max’s psychologist, Dr. Tori Greene, of all people, was one of the few to attend, and she looked somewhat uncomfortable once she realized the turnout was what it was.

At the end of it, she gave Shay a hug. “I’m glad he’s at peace now.”

Shay took the comfort, and when she drew back, she waved toward where Beau and Callum stood. Max was several feet away, looking horrified that her therapist had shown up.

“We’re having a get-together at the house,” Shay said. Tori’s hesitation made Shay think it was a step too far. But she’d already started ... “You’re more than welcome to come.”

“I have an appointment, I’m sorry,” Tori said, her mouth twisting with regret. “I was only able to sneak away for a moment.”

“Of course,” Shay murmured. In the next moment, an old buddy from Billy’s garage drew her attention, and Tori slipped out of the church. The buddy took them up on an offer for a ride, and then regaled them with fishing stories all the way back to the house. The place was already crowded with people who wouldn’t make a drive to see a closed casket but would turn up in droves for free booze and food.

Nathaniel Conrad found her in the kitchen during one of her lulls in conversation. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the church.”

---