Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
I was going to kill Frankie when she got home. We had a deal. If she left town for any length of time, she was to tell me so Lily wouldn’t have to be here all by herself. Lily was many amazing things, and now— fuck . I could barely think it—those words she’d whispered to me in the car.
I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last.
I breathed deep.
I would fucking take care of her. Even when this was all done, even if she never wanted to see me again after this month, I had to make sure she felt like she could exist. A world without Lily—god, I didn’t even want to think about it.
It would be torture. I would never tell her this, but I would follow her to whatever life came next.
I leaned against the counter, my head hung low, trying to control the raging storm inside me. My whole body shook with terror and anger and despair. Never again. Never again will Lily feel like that. Not if I had anything to say about it.
A door closed from the other side of the small house, bringing me back to the present. She was here. Everything would be ok as long as that was true.
I pushed off the counter. A large black bag sat beside her bedroom door.
It seemed so lightly packed that I wondered if she put anything in it at all.
On her bed, a pink and green pillow sat in a prominent position, like she lovingly placed it there instead of haphazardly like the rest of her bedding.
I bought her that pillow, and I’d seen her cuddling with it so many times that the image was burned into my brain.
On impulse, I picked it up and shoved it into her bag, wanting to see her cuddled up, comfortable, and safe in my home. I grabbed a few of her books and threw them in there as well. If she was upset that I packed them, she could rage at me about it later.
I walked out of her room, bag in hand, just as she stepped out of the bathroom, another smaller bag thrown over her shoulder.
“Ready?” she asked, smiling up at me. That look was a balm to my soul right now. I could lose everything, but if I had that, then all would be well.
“Yep.” I held my hand out to her, and she grabbed it without hesitation. That small contact sent a thrill through me. I hadn’t held a woman’s hand before, not like this, not just so we are tied together for something simple like walking, not since I held Lily’s hand when we were young.
“So, what was this about your work?” I asked when we were tucked into the car and on our way.
“I don’t know when I started dreading it there.
I used to be so excited about my work, and I still am, but my actual job at the museum, it’s…
awful.” She spoke like she was af raid of the word.
“Frankie says my boss is harmless and I shouldn’t worry so much, but Frankie—she’s not—they worship her there, she could show up naked, get arrested for indecent exposure, and still have a job to go back to in the morning. ”
I snorted in surprise.
“I doubt even Frankie could show up naked and not be fired.” I knew how much money her family gave to the museum, but surely that didn’t give her quite so large of a carte blanche.
“No, she probably can. She promises that if I… well, she says I always have somewhere to live if something happens, but I can’t be a burden on her.”
“You aren’t a burden.”
“What else would I be if I did nothing but sit around reading books all day and not paying my fair share of bills?” She sounded defensive but had too clear of a picture of what her life would be like without work to fool me. She’s thought about it, and didn’t hate the idea.
“You would be happy, for a start. Then, when you become bored with just reading, if that’s even possible, you would find something that you loved.” I reached over and squeezed her knee, needing contact with her since we were back on difficult topics.
“And someone else would pay my bills and make sure I ate, and I would contribute nothing.”
I growled. She wasn’t getting it.
“Listen, I don’t fucking care what anyone else thinks, you included,” I said before she could interrupt.
“You fucking matter. You matter to me. Whether you work at a museum or become a goblin in my library doing nothing but reading whatever book you want. Do you think the rich fucks I went to school with sit around thinking about how useful they are? No, they don’t.
That’s a lie told to poor people to make them work.
There is no ‘useful’ or ‘useless,’ there is only existing and finding joy. ”
“Easy for you to say when you’re on the rich end of that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. She was right. I had life easier in so many ways. We may have grown up together, but she lived in a different world.
I didn’t want to think about it now, though.
“What’s so bad about your work?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation back into safer territory.
“My boss, Tom. He’s… difficult. It’s like I never do anything right there, and sometimes he says things and when I try to report him, I’m the one that gets in trouble. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but it has to be something, right?”
“No, it doesn’t have to be anything you’re doing wrong.” We pulled into my apartment’s underground parking garage but still sat in the car while she told me about her job.
“Today, he told me I wasn’t doing enough. He said my work was adequate, but not up to expectations. The thing is, I think he’s right. I used to do so much more when I was first hired, but I’m… exhausted.”
She looked it. Her shoulders slumped, her body seeming to crumble in on itself.
She looked better than when I first picked her up.
She wasn’t pale anymore, and the redness had faded from her eyes, but what happened today clearly still weighed on her.
My hands itched to take it away. I just didn’t know how.
“He’s wrong. No one works at a high level all the time.” I brushed a stray curl from her hair, and she nuzzled into my hand.
“You do. ”
I snorted.
“No, I’m definitely going to burn out soon.” She turned her head and kissed my palm.
“You do work a lot. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She kissed my hand again. The gesture was so simple, but it eased the tension between us and reminded me I had a surprise waiting for her.
“Let’s go upstairs.” She kissed my hand one last time before letting it go. I had no right to feel so bereft without it.