Chapter 2
The scorching South Florida sun beating down on the gathering only added to the misery of the moment. Despite the oppressive humidity and not a whisper of a breeze to alleviate it, birds chirped merrily in the trees as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Their cheeriness grated.
On the worst day of her life, why wasn’t the weather gray and rainy, matching her dark mood? It wasn’t comparable, but at least when she’d lost her parents, Ethan had stood beside her, holding her hand, sharing her pain, still breathing. Not today, though. Never again.
“It’s time, Em.”
She nodded at Alec’s gentle prompt. Thank God for him. If he hadn’t been with her these past awful days, she wouldn’t have made it through.
He released her hand so she could pick up a fistful of loose earth and toss it into the yawning hole. The first clump spattered on top of her brother’s casket. Alec’s handful joined hers a moment later.
A grim tradition meant to offer closure. As if it was possible to bury grief.
Quiet weeping rose from around them.
Not family: she was the last Peterson. Ethan was only twenty-seven. Never married. He thought he had plenty of time to find a wife and have kids. But bullets from the gun of a twice-convicted felon had stolen his future.
Heads bowed as the police chaplain offered a last prayer for their fallen brother in blue. Emily bowed her head, too, but his words didn’t reach her. She’d stopped believing in prayers long ago.
Her gaze fell upon the sprays of yellow roses wilting in the heat. They’d been on her parents’ caskets, too. Once her favorite flowers, they were now tainted by heart-wrenching loss.
“Can we go now, Alec?” she asked as the collective amen faded.
“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s over.”
The ceremony might be, but not her grief. She knew from bitter experience that bleak days would come when the visits from well-meaning friends and coworkers stopped, and the noise died away.
Alec shepherded her toward his car. Mourners stepped forward with condolences; he deflected them with a polite word or a clipped thank you. He had to know from the stranglehold she had on his hand how close she was to falling apart.
When she slid into the passenger seat and he shut the door, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe.
But the memory of the private viewing—Ethan in his dress uniform, his body cold and so still, he might as well have been a stranger—kept surfacing.
He looked nothing like her always-smiling big brother.
She’d half expected him to sit up, pull off a mask, and call it a cruel joke.
But the silence and truth of the moment were absolute.
When Alec opened the door and slid behind the wheel, she turned her gaze to the window, batting away tears. They were pointless, and she didn’t want him to see her cry. What she had to do would be impossible if he thought she was falling apart.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, staring at her pale reflection in the glass. “I’ve seen my fill of cemeteries.”
The ten-minute drive home passed in tense silence.
When they climbed the stone steps to the front porch, she froze, staring at the door.
“Let me,” Alec said, reaching into his pocket for his key.
A jingle and snick later, he pushed the door inward.
When Emily stepped inside, the silence hit her—thick, suffocating, absolute.
Ethan’s boots still sat by the door, laces tangled as though he’d kicked them off in a rush.
His favorite ball cap, tattered and faded, lay on the entry table, beside it a wilting yellow rose someone had left after the wake.
She hadn’t touched a thing. She couldn’t.
Alec had followed her in and stood beside her, his gaze sweeping the room. She saw the flicker of pain in his eyes when they landed on Ethan’s things. He didn’t speak, just stood there, hands clenched at his sides.
He was handsome in a way that made her ache.
Wavy blond hair ruffled from his fingers, light-blue eyes that could read her too well, sun-kissed skin stretched over a powerful 6’3” frame built to protect and to anchor.
His image blurred through her unshed tears.
Not for Ethan but for what she was about to do to his best friend.
It wasn’t fair. He’d been watching over her since she was a child—the boy she’d chased around the neighborhood, the teenager she’d crushed on, the man she loved in secret. But her heart was broken. Once she picked up the pieces again, it would be for the last time.
“Are you sure you’re okay to stay here by yourself?” he asked.
“Where else would I go?” she whispered.
“You could stay with me as long as you need to,” he suggested.
And get used to it. Become dependent on him. Then when the blow came, she’d be even more devastated.
“I’m okay,” she said, breath hitching as she tried to contain her tears. “But I keep expecting him to walk in. To tell me I’ve overbaked the muffins again.”
Alec’s throat worked as he swallowed. “He’d say you were too tough on yourself. That you were better than you thought.”
She nodded, blinking fast. “He trusted you, you know. I can’t tell you how many times he said he loved you like a brother.”
Alec’s jaw tightened, and, for a moment, her stalwart knight looked as if he might break. He didn’t, but his voice came low, rough. “He was my brother. Not by blood but by every damn thing that mattered.”
He opened his arms, and she fell into them, holding tight while breathing him in. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. You’ll never know how much that means to me.”
“You can call me anytime for anything, Em.”
She savored the feel of his lips against the top of her head and the sweep of his hands up and down her back—big, strong, and steadfast.
“You always give the best hugs,” she whispered.
He tried to ease away, but she held on, knowing this would be the last one.
“I’ll miss them.”
“You don’t have to. I’m here whenever you need one.”
“No,” she said with a shuddering breath, putting distance between them, “because I have to let you go.”
Alec jerked. Frowning, he shook his head. “This is exhaustion talking. You couldn’t have slept much these past few days.”
“I haven’t slept at all, but it’s not tiredness.
” She swallowed, lips parched, throat dry.
This was the most agonizing choice she’d ever had to make.
It was also completely selfish, but the only way she knew to protect herself.
“I love you. I have since before I could walk. But every time I look at you, I’m reminded of Ethan.
Every time I see your badge, I remember what this life takes.
I’m terrified of the next knock on my door.
Of being asked to go to the morgue and see you lying pale and lifeless on a cold slab beneath a sheet. ”
Her voice broke, as did the dam of tears that poured down her face.
“Emily—”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “I can’t lose you, too. It would break me.”
“So, you’d rather cut me out of your life altogether?” he asked, voice breaking. “Baby, that doesn’t make sense.”
“What I’d rather do is live with you on a mountaintop where the world can’t touch us.
But like Ethan, you’re committed to your badge and to justice, so that can’t happen.
” Emily moved her hand from his chest to his cheek.
“You’ve always been my white knight, my shield, and I love you for that, but you can’t fight every battle.
I have to protect myself, especially my heart.
What’s left of it. Even if it means saying goodbye. ”
He framed her face with both hands. “You’re not thinking straight. “You think walking away will protect you? It won’t. It’ll just leave you alone with the ghosts.”
“I already am,” she said. “This house is full of them.”
“With time—”
She let out a short, hollow, humorless laugh. “People say that to give hope when there isn’t any. Time doesn’t heal; it just teaches you how to carry the weight. It’s been two years since Mom and Dad were killed, and the wound is still as raw as ever. I’m sorry. This is how it has to be.”
“I don’t accept that. I’m not giving up on you,” he declared fiercely. “And I won’t let you give up on me. We’re all we have left.”
A painful sob bubbled up from her chest. This was torturous, and his refusal to accept her decision was making it worse.
With a watery smile she didn’t feel, she conceded. “You’re right. I’m tired. I need to lie down.”
She could see the tension leave his body.
With a hint of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he stated, “Sleep is the best thing for you right now. I can’t promise it will be better in the morning—that’s going to take a lot of mornings—but I’ll be here for them as long as you need me. Tomorrow, that includes breakfast.”
“Okay,” she agreed, too tired and heartsick to fight him anymore.
“I’ll stay, sleep on the couch—”
“No, you’re exhausted too.”
“Em—”
“I’m going to bed to pass out. I’ll be okay until morning,” she assured him.
He frowned, still not convinced, but he relented. “If you need me tonight, no matter the time, call and I’ll be here.”
She wanted him to stay as much as she needed him to go. The latter won out, and she nodded, sniffling. “You’re my knight. Of course you will.”
He kissed her forehead, lingering just a second too long. “Lock the door behind me.”
She watched him through the window; as usual he paused, listening for the click of the dead bolt before turning toward the stairs. Usually, he jogged down them. Tonight, he trudged as if drained of energy.
Emily drank in the last few glimpses of him until his SUV turned the corner.
With tears streaming down her face and a crushing emptiness in her chest, she climbed the stairs to pack.
In the morning, when he arrived with breakfast—mammoth blueberry muffins from The Sweet Spot on the corner and a chai latte, her usual—she’d be gone.
Because if she stayed another minute, she’d never be strong enough to go.
***