Page 77 of Before Eve
Survived. Yes, so far I have managed that.
He starts humming, continuing his stroking, and I gradually realize it’s our song. Emotion swamps me, and I breathe out. The humming. His tender, approving caress. The flowers. The brunch we barely ate. It all smashes into me, cracking something inside. A sigh leaves my lips as I fully sink into all that is him.
He speaks, his voice almost inaudible. “I saw a counselor last year. She helped me deal with a lot of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Trust me,” I encourage, using his words. “You can talk to me.”
His hold on me tightens. “My…my mom and my sister were on I-95 heading north to come see one of my shows. My mom was driving—” Abruptly, he stops talking. He draws in a deep breath, and when it comes back out, it shakes. “There was an accident, and traffic was backed up. They were rear-ended by a semi.”
He covers his face with his hand and takes a second, and I do the only thing I can do and just hold him.
He sniffs. “Mom died on impact. Vianca’s paralyzed.” He sniffs again. “If they hadn’t been coming to see me, they’d both be fine.”
I kiss his chest. I don’t know what to say. I wish I did. But I don’t.
“Anyway, I went to a counselor to deal with it all. It’s helped. Sometimes we go as a whole family. Guilt’s a horrible thing.” He catches his breath. “What amazes me is that none of them blame me, and they have every right to. God, my beautiful sister is forever maimed because of me.”
His lips tremble, and it breaks me. I scoot up a little bit and wrap my arms securely around him, cradling his head to my breasts. I hold him, soothing my hand along his bare back.
Poor West. What a horrible thing. Who would’ve guessed that under all his grins and lighthearted ways, he was dealing with this? Then again, everyone deals with tragedy in their own way. I close myself off, and he smothers his in smiles and witty banter.
We continue to hold each other, lulled into peace by our breathing and the steady rhythmic beats of our hearts.
Why did he choose now to tell me this? Because it’s his way of showing the trust he has in me. The trust he wants me to give him in return. I’m glad he shared and can’t help feeling relievedhe’s got stuff he’s dealing with as well. That’s bad to think, but I just don’t want to be the only one with emotional baggage.
I want to help you.He’d said that to me in the stairwell in New York. I hadn’t given it much thought since then because I wasn’t even sure I heard him right, but now it comes back.Sad. Lonely. Pity. Those were some of the words he used when we first met. Is that what initially drew him to me? Was he trying to redeem his guilt by helping me?
Maybe, but not now.
Brave. Strong. Beautiful.
Those are his words for me now, and I like them so much better.
CHAPTER 37
In the ballroom,I stand in the corner next to Brynn, watching her father and Grayson circle the crowd, shaking hands, networking. I turn sixteen this week. This party is supposed to double for that as well as Grayson’s big announcement about a teen educational initiative.
“Why do you always want to stand in the corner?” Brynn gripes.
Because I don’t like people in my space. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I snap. “Go have fun.”
My tone takes her off guard, but I don’t apologize.
“Your dress is pretty,” Brynn cautiously says. “I really like the lace work on the back. Where did you get it?”
I shrug. Grayson picked the gown out.
Brynn frowns. “What’s wrong with you? This is your birthday party, and I feel like I’m at your funeral.”
What’s wrong with me? Where do I start? “None of this is for me. It’s all about Grayson showing what a fabulous father he is, and oh, look at what a generous donor he is to his next whatever. Teen educational blah-blah-blah.”
Brynn falls mute.
I turn fully, looking her straight on. “A lot is going on that you don’t know about. It has been for years.”
