Page 168 of Between Never and Forever
I didn’t build itforher. I built itabouther. Every line on the design plans was intentional. Every room has a Savannah-related purpose. Even the colors were chosen with her image in mind. Her moods. Her dreams.
I couldn’t be with her, but I couldn’t be without her, so I built her into the walls. I immersed myself in Savannah in the only way I knew how.
Was it fair to my wife? Probably not. But Julianna and I never tried to make our marriage something it wasn’t. She had her ways of coping, and I had mine.
If I close my eyes, I can picture Savannah here. Practicing her songs in the music room. Hanging her skateboards on the rack on the mudroom wall. Making stacks of pancakes in the chef’s kitchen. Spending long, lazy mornings with me right here on this deck.
But in my fantasy, which Savannah is it? And when the sun sets, where will we end the day? My repurposed guest bedroom, or my dead wife’s bedroom?
I tighten my hands on the banister and squeeze tightly, putting pressure on the base of my ring finger until it hurts. No silicone barrier. No ring.
If Savannah asked me to move California with her, would I go?
A loud knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. I check my watch as I head back into the house. It could be Brynn and Sharon with their hands loaded with shopping bags. Brynn could have forgotten her key.
My hackles rise as another loud knock bangs on the door, and I pick up my pace.
If it’s another one of those camera wielding hyenas, or some random gossip rag reporter, I might lose my fucking mind. I swing the door open just as the person on the other side goes to knock again.
For a breath, I just stare at them and the smarmy grin plastered on their face.
I step out onto the front porch, making my visitor fall back a step, and pull the door shut. I glance across the street and find camera lenses pointed right at me. I clench my teeth and fold my arms across my chest.
“When did they let you out,” I ask gruffly, and Terry chuckles.
“’Bout six months ago. Good behavior.”
I don’t laugh at his joke. I don’t match his creepy fucking grin. I just stare at him with narrowed eyes and work to keep my cool.
“Where is she?” he asks finally, and I stand straighter. Defensive.
I won’t let him within fifty feet of Sharon. She’s worked too fucking hard to let this sleazy ass waste of life try to undo everything she’s done. I drag my eyes over him. New clothes. New shoes. His dark curly hair is still long and stringy, just how I remember it, but he looks like he’s showered recently.
His eyes, though. Something about those beady, yellow-ringed eyes.
Good behavior my ass.
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
He laughs again. Unbothered. Like he thinks this is a game.
“How you know? D’you ask her?”
“I know.” I glance back over his shoulder. When was the last time the police car rolled by? Will they be here any minute or do I have to wait for another hour? I do a quick scan of his body just before hitting him with another glare. “You’ve overstayed your welcome. Leave.”
Without turning my back on him, I reach down to open the door, but he steps forward.
“Back the fuck up, Terry.”
He narrows his eyes angrily at first, then forces a smile.
“I just want to talk to her. I want to say hi. I should get to know her since we’ll be spending so much time together soon, right?”
“Stay away from her,” I say, my voice shaking with the force of my restraint. I scan him quickly once more looking for the outline of a gun or a hidden holster, but I see nothing. “Get the fuck off my property.”
“You can’t keep the kid from me for long. We’re blood.”
Every nerve ending in my body buzzes. Warning signals start to blare in my ears. I hold my breath. This time, when I look him over, I pay attention to different things. Dark brown curly hair. Light blue eyes. No chin cleft. I swallow hard before speaking.
