Chapter Nineteen Lily #2
With a heavy chest, I opened the closet to put the postcard away where it belonged, tucked in a clear page of a book full of pieces of paper just like it.
But I didn’t close the closet, deciding instead to pull out my suitcase.
The small one that I hardly ever opened, and simply kept bringing with me from place to place.
Somewhere in Texas, there was a storage unit that held all the items I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of.
But as I moved around, I took a select number of sentimental items with me.
They hadn’t seen the light of day in at least a year. Maybe longer. Why? Because it fucking hurt to look at them, and I made it a habit not to hurt my own feelings.
Except when I felt like this, I supposed.
When I needed a tangible reminder of why I was avoiding this very thing.
Why missing anyone was the last thing I needed.
Why missing memories and moments and traditions should be avoided at all costs.
Forget heaven and hell—that was purgatory.
And I’d already spent enough time there to know how much I hated it.
My hands shook as I opened the suitcase holding the small white box. The edges were smudged and banged up, but the clasp still held tight. When I opened it, a small creaking sound filled the room, and I had to shore up all my defenses before I cracked the lid.
Larry’s paws made a pitter-pat sound on the floor in the hallway, and I tilted my head, waiting for him to appear. He stopped in the doorway of my room and plopped his butt down, his own head tilted like Well . . . what are you waiting for?
“You’re so pushy,” I said, and my voice sounded thick and rough, no hiding the emotions I’d been shoving down all week.
The dog walked over to the bed and looked up at me, letting out a weary sigh.
I rolled my eyes and leaned down to pick him up.
When my hand curled under his belly, he groaned.
Once safely on the bed, he sat down, then stared at the box.
The pictures on top were faded with time, even though they hardly saw the light of day. A single glimpse of the top picture was enough to make my hand freeze in midair.
A much younger Larry, maybe only a year old, was cuddled up in a brighter, more vibrant version of the blanket he slept on every day. And the face above his . . .
My lungs burned, so did my eyes—but I couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. A wildfire swept through my entire body while I stared at the smile. The dimples. The rosy cheeks and the bright smile.
That was enough.
I slammed the box shut and set it aside, trying to pull air into my lungs while my heart raced.
Therapy, I thought again with a desperate laugh. I need therapy.
Larry looked up at me, and on a stack of Bibles, I’d have sworn he was tearing up.
“I know, buddy,” I whispered. “I miss them too.”
Carefully, I set my hand along his skinny back and gently pet him. He leaned in to the touch. Just a fraction. But enough that I noticed, and I smiled faintly.
There was a knock on the front door, and I deflated, not sure how much I could handle. For a moment, I thought about not answering it. Ignoring whoever it was. Guilt tore at my insides, and I knew that if it was Maggie or Bryce, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
I blew out a hard breath and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I exited the room.
My eyes were a little red, but hopefully not enough that anyone would notice.
I’d rather let someone think I was on drugs than the actual truth.
Lily Townsend, sitting alone and crying?
No fucking thank you. The silhouette on the other side of the door was distinctly female, and my heart let out a puttering little sigh of relief-slash-disappointment that it wasn’t Barrett.
At the moment, I could not handle that man. Because, so help me, if he gave me another shovel or offered up some strangely thoughtful version of help, I’d ask him to hug me. Or I’d cry. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
The crying. Definitely the crying. My face got all red and splotchy, and nothing about it was attractive. A healthy amount of vanity was not the end of the world, okay?
It didn’t mean anything.
I pulled in a fortifying breath and pulled open the door.
It was Robin.
“Oh. Hi.”
She smiled, seeming genuinely amused by my confusion. “I’m sorry to intrude. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Super busy,” I said. “Just . . . the busiest.”
Her eyes traced over my face and seemed to find the lie pretty quickly, even if she chose not to comment on it.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight. My husband and I leave soon, and we would love to spend a bit more time with you. Barrett’s done with the season, of course, so we thought a nice family-style dinner could be a good way to spend our last evening.”
Have you ever tried swallowing around an elephant? That was what it felt like. The idea of dinner with the Kings filled me with actual terror, the kind that made my limbs tingle.
“I can’t,” I heard myself say. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “Of course. I should’ve known you might have plans.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to correct her, but I just .
. . didn’t. The truth was . . . I couldn’t.
I could not sit at a table with all of them and pretend like I was okay when I wasn’t.
I couldn’t watch Maggie tell stories and Bryce talk about his day.
I couldn’t meet Barrett’s knowing gaze and pretend like it didn’t shake me to my fucking core.
I tried to push a polite smile on my face, but based on her expression, it must have come off like a grimace. “I’m sorry,” I said again. Not like I had anything to apologize for. It wasn’t wrong to say no to someone, even if their offer was nice and kind and thoughtful.
At the moment, nice and kind and thoughtful would be my absolute undoing.
Robin paused like she was going to say something, then thought better of it. “If we don’t see you before we leave,” she said carefully, “it was a real pleasure, Lily. I hope this isn’t the last we see of you.”
The entire King family was going to fucking break me, I just knew it. Letting her see that would’ve ruined everything, so I infused as much strength as I could muster into my voice.
“Thank you,” I replied, hardly above a whisper. “It was nice to meet you, too, Robin.”
Her gaze was thoughtful, and I wondered if there was some Mom-radar going off in her head that I was real close to a mental breakdown. I swear, if she came in for a hug, I’d absolutely fucking crack, and then I’d never forgive her for making me snot all over her shoulder.
“If you ever get back to Arizona,” she said, “feel free to look us up.”
“I will,” I promised. Even more surprising was the fact that I meant it.
She must have seen that on my face, because she finally let out a small sigh.
After another smile, she turned and left, and I watched her cross the driveway, then the yards between our houses. When she was safely inside, I closed my eyes and locked the door behind me.