Chapter 13
Guy
SIX MONTHS LATER
As the sun beats through the windshield, I forgo the AC and open my window, instead.
A cool breeze hits me and fills the car, and I open the passenger window too, so Fox can do what he always does—stick his head out and bark.
He bites at the rushing air, eventually just letting his tongue loll out and flap in the wind.
He’s nine months old and is my little shadow, though he isn’t really little anymore. He’s picked up training well, and he’s obedient, if a little dozy at times. He loves the car, which is lucky, because we’re making a twelve-hour trip to a cabin in Canada to meet with Ella, Gable, and the kids.
It feels like forever since I’ve seen them, so as the navigation chirps up that we’re closing in on our destination, I pick up speed.
The sign for the cabin comes into view, and I pass through the open gate. The driveway is long, surrounded by trees, the road cast in shadows, and Fox shifts excitedly, likely looking for squirrels. When I reach the end of the dusty stone path, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
I kill the engine and climb out, and Fox clambers over to the driver’s side to follow.
The lakeside cabin is enormous. Far too big for just the five of us, but stunning.
The structure is mismatched brick with a dark, sloping roof.
I approach a side entrance with a low fence that leads to the lake and a floating patio, comfortable seats set up, and lamps glowing in time for nightfall.
The front of the house faces the water, and it’s a large, triangle front made entirely of glass, the second story aglow with lights.
The patio doors that lead to a kitchen are open to the elements, and the sound of tiny feet approach.
“Papa!” Asha darts toward me and I grin, scooping her into my arms. I FaceTime Ella a few times a week, but I was still afraid the kids might not recognize me.
The last time I held Asha she was one, but now she’s almost three.
I bury my face in her long, dark hair. She smells like bubblegum and feels like home.
There’s another small shout, and I shift Asha so she’s on my hip, so I can pick up Gray, too. More dark hair, just like Gable’s, but they both have Ella’s blue eyes.
“You’re both getting too big,” I say, feigning weakness as I bounce them up and down, eliciting giggles.
“Yes, they are.”
My gaze strays to my daughter. My baby girl.
She looks the same as she always has. Long dark hair in a ponytail, smile wide whenever she sees me, but there’s an air about her now that’s different. A kind of calm. A maturity that makes me so damn proud of her.
“Hey, Daddio,” she says and approaches to kiss my cheek. “How was the drive?”
“Fine, it was a little—”
“Oh no, the cops are here,” a dry, deep voice says, just as Gable appears in the patio doorway.
He looks the same, too. Messy black hair and sharp, brown eyes that always set me on edge.
He’s in dark jeans and a T-shirt, as always, except a kitchen towel is over his shoulder and I think he has glitter smudged on his cheek.
“Hi, Gable,” I say stiffly.
He gives me a curt nod. “Where’s Fox?”
A splash answers that. We turn and watch Fox paddling about in the lake, biting at the water. Motor is at the edge, barking excitedly, tail wagging at full speed.
Asha immediately wriggles in my grip. “Fox!”
“Are they safe?” I ask, nodding at the water.
Gable points at the thick, glass fencing that runs around the entirety of the patio. Fox and Motor must have leapt over it, but there’s no way the twins could even reach the top of it, so I place both kids down and they toddle over to watch the dogs play.
Ella watches, chewing her lip, and Gable puts his arm around her, kissing her temple. “They’re okay.”
She looks unconvinced. “We need to remember to lock the doors, even at night. You know what Asha is like.”
I watch them both. “What about Asha?”
Ella sighs, her brows pinched together. “She’s been sleepwalking. It started a few months ago.”
God, that brings back memories. “You did, too.”
Ella’s head whips in my direction. “I did?”
“After your mom passed, yeah. It went on for a year or so, then you just stopped.”
At that, Ella relaxes. “So it could just stop?” I nod and she smiles, even though it’s small. “That’s good.” She goes to watch Fox with the kids, and Gable and I stand almost shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the lake, too.
He folds his arms. “I’ve been trying to reassure her about that since it started. You show up and do it in five minutes.”
“It’s a dad thing,” I say. He makes a sound that has me smirking. “You cooking?”
“Yep. You hungry?”
“For your food? Yes. It’s about the only thing I like about you.” I clap him on the shoulder and head toward the lake.
While Gable finishes making dinner, I dry off Fox, and he sits outside in the warm, panting happily, with strict instructions not to jump back into the water. When we all eventually sit around the dining table, it’s as if no time has passed.
Even though I feel like an entirely different man.
It’s been six months since Monty left. Six months of questioning whether she meant a damn thing she said those few days we were together.
I’ve tortured myself over it, and now I’m retired, there’s not much to occupy my head but her.
I hate that she’s taken root in my mind when I clearly had no effect on her, so I’ve worked hard, especially these last few weeks, to focus on this trip.
I won’t let memories ruin these moments with Ella and the kids.
So, we eat. We talk about how creepy the cabin is. It’s beautiful on the outside, but there are antique weapons hanging on the walls—including a crossbow in the living room. What kind of an Airbnb is this?
Dinner ends, and once the kids are bathed and in their pajamas, we put on a movie. Gray immediately falls asleep on Gable’s chest, and Ella is curled up in a large armchair, sleeping, too. Asha is watching the movie, frowning as always, swinging her legs off the edge of the couch.
“Bedtime, Ash,” Gable whispers.
“Want me to take her?” I suggest.
Asha frowns. “No. Daddy.”
Gable throws me a victorious smirk and stands, Gray still sleeping against him. As he passes me, he whispers, “It’s a dad thing.”
I make sure he’s out of sight before giving him the finger.
“I saw that,” Ella mumbles, stretching and sitting up.
I refocus on the TV. “You saw nothing.”
She chuckles and rubs her face. “Does this get easier? Do I get more sleep?”
I smile at her sleepy expression and ruffled hair. “They stop waking you up, if that’s what you mean. But then you worry because you wonder why.” I stand. “Wait until they bring home a serial killer for a boyfriend.”
“Not funny.”
I pass her, kissing the top of her head before making my way to my room.
As I lie in bed with Fox by my side, I stare at the wooden ceiling and do what I promised I wouldn’t.
I think about Lina.
Was it really all an act? Am I foolish for thinking it wasn’t? I thought we had fun. The sex was definitely a bonus, but even if that hadn’t happened, I enjoyed her company. Even with the murder.
But the older you get, the more you realize that memories are simply pockets of time. You can keep them, or you can tuck them away, and my few days with Monty has to be the latter.
I doubt I’ll ever see her again anyway.