Chapter 1
ESSENCE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Hot tears burn my eyes as they pour down my face. I try to reign in my emotions, but the sadness completely takes over and has me needing to take a seat as the finality of this moment hits me.
Leo’s gone. He’s never coming back.
Never in my life did I think I’d end up at the funeral of one of my students, but here I am, dressed in black from head to toe and bawling my eyes out.
I look over at the sleek black child-sized coffin in the middle of the cemetery to where Dante Romano is standing, looking down at the white-trimmed receptacle with the most somber expression on his face. No father should ever have to go through what he’s going through right now.
By the time I got here this morning, the field was already filled with family, friends, and most of my students—Leo’s classmates—so I chose to stay in the back so as not to disturb the service.
Pushing myself out of my chair, I quietly make my way through the sea of people to get to him.
On my way, I offer my condolences to his grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins, and I stop to talk to my students and their parents.
Dante’s parents are noticeably absent; I know he doesn’t have the best relationship with them, but I’d still expect them to come and help bury their only grandchild.
When I finally reach Dante, I rest a hand gently on his arm to let him know I’m here. He’s been standing in this spot for the past ten minutes. He hasn’t moved, and I’m starting to get a little worried.
“Dante?” I say softly, not wanting to startle him, but I want to make sure he’s okay.
Well… as okay as a father who’s burying his young son can be.
It takes him a few seconds, but he drags his amber eyes from the coffin to mine, and there’s a whole host of pain there. My heart hurts so bad for him.
“You’re here,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly, and he seems genuinely surprised to see me here. The dark brown of his hair seems almost black in this somber setting, and it frames his face like dark curtains.
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?”
He nods and answers honestly. “Yes. I know how close you and Leo were. I thought being here would be too hard for you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. As a teacher, there’s an unspoken rule that you’re not supposed to have favorites, but every teacher always has one.
Leo was mine. He and I bonded over our love of dogs, and Dante would often bring him to the park to have playdates with my nephew, Matthew, so he grew quite attached to me. Ever since Dante saved me from the fire six months ago, he’s been a constant presence in my life.
While my heart hurts so bad at the thought that I’ll never see Leo again, it hurts even worse for Dante knowing he has to spend the rest of his life grieving his son.
The police are still searching for the person responsible for the accident that killed him, but no matter how much justice he gets, it still doesn’t change the fact that it happened in the first place.
I look down at the little boy’s coffin with tears in my eyes. “I’ll be honest, a part of me didn’t want to come, but I needed to be here. For both of you.”
Dante lets out a breath at my words and pulls me in for a tight hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold him while he cries. Broken sobs wrack his huge body, and I have to guide him to the nearest chair so he doesn’t fall to the ground.
“Oh, caro,” his grandmother says as she comes over and starts rubbing his back.
Her husband places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Thank you so much for being such an important part of Leo’s life,” he says sadly. “He always spoke so fondly of you.”
I smile. “He’s a wonderful little boy.”
My voice cracks as I say it. I can’t bear to say the word was.
Letting Dante spend some time with his family, I quietly weave my way back through the throngs of people to Evan’s car. Dante is having everyone over for a repass at his house, but I don’t think I can bear it.
Once I'm in the car, I glance over at Dante one more time, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before I leave. To my surprise, he sees me through the group of people and holds up his phone, pointing to it.
I pull mine out and read his text message.
DANTE:
Are you coming over?
I sigh and reply back:
ME:
I don’t think I can.
When I look back up at him, he reads the text and nods in understanding before returning his attention back to his grandparents. I start the car and head home, trying hard to erase his disappointed expression from my mind.
It’s nearly two o’clock by the time I get home, and I expect to find the living room empty, but Evan is there playing video games instead of asleep upstairs.
I took my time getting home and stopped by the park for a little bit to clear the air.
I swear I could hear Leo’s laughter on the wind, but when I looked for him, he wasn’t there.
As soon as I walk in, my senses are bombarded with the artificial scent of lavender air freshener, which makes me gag. I hate the smell of lavender, but Evan loves it, so we always have a minimum of five bottles in the house. He claims the scent keeps him calm, but I’d seriously beg to differ.
I'm about to greet him when I hear a sad, pitiful whimper from somewhere in the room.
“Where’s Lunchbox?” I ask, looking around for my new Dalmatian puppy.
When Evan jerks his head to the side of the couch in answer, I'm livid.
Lunchbox’s cage is shoved into the spot where the end of the couch should meet the wall, and it’s covered with a black blanket.
“Evan!” I scold, going to my new baby immediately and unlocking the cage door. “I've asked you a million times not to leave him in his cage! How long has he been in here?”
As soon as I uncover the cage, Lunchbox starts crying; those big, dark brown eyes that I love so much are practically pleading for me to free him.
I pull him out and cuddle him against me. His little whimpers as he nuzzles against my neck nearly crack my heart in half.
“He’s been in there since you put him in there this morning,” Evan snaps. He pulls his headphones off and leans back on the couch, cracking open what looks to be his fourth beer of the day. Then he grabs the remote and starts flipping through streaming apps to find something to watch.
What he said is definitely true, because when I look inside the cage, I see that Lunchbox’s pad is covered in poop and pee. I pull the puppy away from me and see that his paws and legs are matted and covered in it, too. Now I see why it reeks of air freshener in here.
“You should have gotten home sooner,” he says, sounding almost amused. “This is why I don’t let you use my fucking car. You take advantage of my kindness.”
I go to stand in front of the TV and glare at Evan.
“First of all, letting your girlfriend use your car isn’t about kindness, it’s about common decency,” I snap.
“And second of all, how could you leave him in there for that long? His cage is covered in shit and piss—he’s covered in shit and piss—and has he even had anything to eat while I was gone? Any water?”
“Get away from the TV, Essence,” he growls, getting off the couch and stepping up to me threateningly. Lunchbox barks at him, but Evan doesn’t even notice. “I’ve had a long day, and I don’t need to deal with your fucking bitchy attitude.”
“A long day doing what? Drinking?” I snap, pushing past him to the kitchen to get Lunchbox some food and water. “It’s only two in the afternoon, your day technically hasn’t even started yet.”
Evan grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me back around to face him. I clench my teeth and stare him down with as much malice as I can muster. I don’t want him to know how good this feels, and I certainly don’t want to admit to myself how good it feels when he hurts me.
Despite myself, the image of a masked man fills my mind, and there’s suddenly a wet warmth between my legs.
Evan gets in my face, and I cringe from the stench of beer on his breath. “The dog doesn’t get anything until you’ve made my fucking lunch.”
To emphasize his authority, he grabs Lunchbox by the scruff of his neck, stomps back into the living room and tosses my puppy back into his cage. My heart breaks at the sound of his little cries when Evan locks the door.
I'm furious now, and all I want to do is take one of the knives in the kitchen and stab him in the throat.
Choosing my battles wisely, I wash my hands and begin making lunch, trying hard to ignore my sweet baby’s cries.