Page 126 of I Knead You Tonight

But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore.

* * *

The light filtersthrough the blinds of Winston’s way-too-bright room.

Winston.

Just the thought of him makes my heart ache.

Though my anger has died down since I first got the phone call, I’m still upset.

I could hardly sleep last night between getting up to check on Riker and all the thoughts flying through my mind.

I know Winston didn’t do it on purpose. His shoulder gave out. It’s not like he threw him off the bed. It was an accident and could have happened at any time, not just when he was taking care of Riker.

It was just unfortunate timing, and thankfully Riker is okay.

Still, I’m so pissed at Winston for his pigheadedness. Sure, I’m known to be stubborn myself, but I’d never put my son in harm’s way.

Winston did.

Knowingly.

I’m having a hard time letting that go.

I take a deep breath, knowing I have to face him at some point, and roll over.

The bed is empty.

I listen, straining to hear if he’s in the house.

Silence.

I pull myself from the bed, padding out to the living room, looking out at the deck.

Vacant.

I go back to the bedroom, looking and searching for a note, anything that will tell me where he’s gone, if he’s coming back.

Nothing.

Winston is gone.

The overwhelming feeling that I need to leave rushes over me like a raging river.

I can’t be here. I can’t do this. Not now.

I reach under the bed for the bag I stuffed there and begin to fill it.

Slice Twenty

Winston

Igaze up at my house, one foot on the steps, heart hammering like mad.

I loathed leaving our bed—it hasn’t beenmybed for weeks—this morning, detested leaving Drew to wake up without me there, but I had something I needed to take care of.

Now that I’m back, I’m scared to face her, scared she’s going to want to leave because of what happened.

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