Page 49 of The Edge Of Us

I took Astrid, holding her tightly. She babbled, pressing her face to my neck.

“I love you, my baby girl,” I whispered.

My mother hugged me next. “I’m proud of you, Corinne. So proud. You fought like hell, and you made it.”

I clung to her. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Never,” she said firmly. “Never, ever. Now let’s go home.”

As we walked toward the car, I looked back one last time. Brittany stood at the window, waving with Whimsy in her hand. I pressed my fingers to my lips and blew her a kiss.

She caught it with a giggle.

And just like that, I stepped into the sunlight.

Free.

Chapter 29

Allen

The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet—the kind that crept under your skin, wrapping around your throat until you couldn’t breathe right. That was the kind of quiet I lived in now. Our home—no, my home. The place that used to echo with Corinne’s laughter, with Kyle’s tiny feet running across the hardwood floors, with Astrid’s baby cries and gurgles. Now, it was just a shell.

She was gone.

Almost two years. It had been almost two years since the divorce. Almost two years since I destroyed everything.

I didn’t even know where she was.

She had vanished. No one knew a damn thing. Not even the media, and that was saying something, considering how relentless they could be when it came to Corinne. One day she was the nation’s favorite runway goddess, and the next—a ghost. And I? I was the bastard who had ruined it all. Her, me, our family.

The silence in the house mocked me. It was filled with memories I couldn’t escape. Our wedding pictures were still hidden somewhere, tucked away where I couldn’t see them but couldn’t throw them out either. Her favorite coffee mug sat in the back ofthe cabinet. Kyle once found one of her old scarves and asked if she was coming home soon. I hadn’t known what to say.

I didn’t deserve to know.

My parents didn’t talk about her. They were civil, but I could feel the disappointment radiating off them every time I visited. My mother couldn’t even look me in the eye some days. And the friends I used to have? They faded. Not all at once. But slowly, like colors in a sun-drenched photo.

Corinne was my world. And now she was gone.

It was a Saturday evening. My weekend with the kids. But I couldn’t do it. I hadn’t been able to do it for months.

Corinne’s mother always brought Kyle and Astrid over, punctual and polite. Never said much. She didn’t need to. The look in her eyes said it all. I handed her the envelope with the monthly support money and tried not to feel like a stranger.

Instead of spending time with them, I dropped them at my parents’ place. Again. Like I always did. And it didn’t even take five minutes before my mother cornered me in the kitchen.

"Allen," she said, her voice low and firm, arms crossed. "Sit."

"Mom, I can’t stay long."

"You’ll sit," she insisted, pointing to the stool by the island. "You haven’t stayed with the children in months. You barely speak. Kyle’s starting to ask questions."

I rubbed my hands over my face. I hadn’t slept well in weeks. Or eaten properly. "I know."

"No, you don’t."

I glanced at her, saw the soft hurt in her eyes, the way her shoulders were weighed down by worry.

"You need help, Allen," she said gently. "This…this isn’t who you are."

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