Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Gage
I had just convinced Kate to take a bath when Travis came home with Maddox.
No sooner was he in the door than I realized something was wrong. Or rather, something was really wrong since everything between us was wrong these days.
“When they go to bed, we’re gonna talk,” Travis said under his breath, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I didn’t even get a chance to reply when he pivoted and stormed out of the room.
I sighed. Looked like just another Saturday night.
Two hours later, after we’d sat with the kids until they’d all but fallen asleep, I was about to come out of my skin. For weeks now, I'd been the one to instigate any and all conversations with Travis, and now that he had shown even a modicum of effort, I wanted to know what was on his mind.
After putting Avery to bed and checking on Kade, I went back downstairs.
I'd expected to find Travis in the living room, where I'd left him, but he wasn’t there.
I started toward the guest room where Travis had moved his things shortly after Kylie died, but I came up short when I heard his voice coming from his office.
I stepped into the room to find Travis pacing the floor, his phone to his ear.
“I understand, but when you know for sure, I expect to be your first call. Not my father, not Gage. Me. Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”
That was all it took for me to realize who Travis was talking to.
Rather than wait so we could have a knock-down-drag-out, I turned and walked right back out of the room.
I went for the stairs, took them two at a time, and headed for my bedroom.
I shut the door behind me, knowing Travis wouldn’t come in.
Taking a deep breath, I paced the room a couple of times to calm down, then decided a shower was in order.
After all, this was my routine. Every morning, I woke up, then, with Travis’s help, I got the kids up and moving.
If it was the weekend, I tried to come up with something to entertain them with, and during the week, I would get them ready for daycare.
After what had become a daily battle regarding who didn’t want to go, I would finally get them dropped off.
Then, I would go to the resort to put in my eight hours.
Most of those were spent working with one of Travis’s brothers because I sensed Travis didn’t want to be in the same room as me.
Which had made this past week, when we’d been stuck in the house, a complete hell. For both of us.
And then, when the day was over, I would reverse course, pick up the kids, bring them home.
Dinner was generally whatever I could scrounge together in a few minutes with five kids underfoot.
With each passing day, as our new normal set in, we were finding a routine that worked for us.
Generally, Travis would come home in time to help with baths.
Then, we would get the kids to bed before going our separate ways.
And every night, without fail, I would go to Travis because I couldn’t stand to go a single day without that connection.
I knew it was painful for us both, being without Kylie, but I wasn’t willing to let go of what we’d worked so hard for.
I wasn’t ready to lose everything, although, at times, I felt like I already had.
After stripping off my clothes, I got in the shower.
As was the case every time I took a minute to breathe, the tears would come.
Fortunately, I reserved that emotional unloading for when I was alone so as not to let the kids see the pain that still consumed me.
It was hard enough to get through the minutes of the day.
It would be even harder if the kids had to shoulder the weight of everyone else’s emotions.
Once I'd let the hot water beat out some of the tension in my shoulders, I focused on my frustration rather than my grief, avoiding the tears as I hurried through the shower and got out.
I pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt—always clothed in case the kids needed me—then fell into bed, not bothering to pull back the covers.
It wasn’t until I was lying there in the dark room that I heard movement on the other side of the bedroom door.
I waited, expecting to see Kade or Avery peek inside as they had done a few times in recent weeks, seeking comfort.
But no one opened the door.
Was it…?
“Travis?”
The throat that cleared from the hallway was definitely that of a full-grown man.
I hated that my chest inflated, hope filling me. I knew the only reason he would come to our room would be to hash out whatever was on his mind. And clearly he felt it was important. Otherwise, he would wait until morning.
I remained silent, waiting to see what Travis would do. After several minutes had passed, I sighed, disappointed. I'd hoped that he would’ve made the effort, would’ve—
The doorknob turned, and Travis appeared, backlit by the butter-yellow glow from the light in the hallway.
Neither of us said a word when Travis stepped into the room, closed the door behind him.
Neither of us said a word when Travis walked toward me, only to stop and turn back around.
I wasn’t sure I was breathing as I waited, watching him as he gripped the doorknob as though leaving the room. Several heartbeats passed, and still, Travis was there.
“You should’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” I asked, playing dumb.
He let go of the knob, turned around. “You’ve been talkin’ to Reese.”
“And?”
“You’ve been up to speed on the case. Probably before I was.”
Yes, I had gotten some updates. But I didn’t figure it had been relevant to what was going on.
Until Brantley and Reese actually found Juliet Prince, it was all moot.
Or until the FBI tracked her down, it didn’t matter.
Everyone knew she was out there somewhere.
I didn’t see the point in discussing it.
“You should’ve told me,” Travis repeated, his voice harsher than before.
“What good would it’ve done?” I countered. “How the fuck would it help? Tell me that, Travis. Tell me how knowin’ what they’re doin’ would help any of us get through another day.”
As I expected, he didn’t answer.
And yet, I still waited for a response.
Travis
I had never hyperventilated a day in my life.
Until now.
Until this moment when I was standing in our bedroom, the room we had shared with Kylie for seven amazing years. I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs despite my efforts to do so. The walls felt like they were closing in around me, making my vision go gray at the edges.
“Travis.”
I could hear Gage’s voice, even comprehend the concern in it, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t react, couldn’t anything.
Why had I come in here? Why? What was the purpose of subjecting myself to this?
Hard hands were turning me around, then suddenly cupping my neck, thumbs brushing along my jaw, Gage’s face filling my line of sight.
“Trav, relax,” my husband whispered, his tone so gentle it caused another ache in my chest. “Breathe.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fill my lungs. My airway was getting smaller by the second, my chest constricting.
Those strong hands grew firmer as Gage leaned in. And then his breath fanned my lips.
“I’m here, Trav. I’m right here. I want you to breathe. In and out. Slow. It’s all right. I swear to you.”
“I … I can’t… Oh, fuck…” I sucked in air, the panic attack beating down on me. I felt my legs weaken. I was going to pass out.
“Breathe.” Gage leaned in closer, pressed his lips to mine. Just a gentle brushing, but it gave me something to focus on. The imaginary band on my chest loosened slightly.
It was then that I realized I was crying, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“I miss her so fuckin’ much,” I forced out. “So much, Gage. I. Miss. Her.”
His arms banded around me, jerking me close, tightening in a hold that should’ve been constricting, but it wasn’t. It was comfort. It was … home and hope and love all right there. This man … despite our issues, despite the distance we’d put between us, he was there when I needed him. Always there.
“We’re gonna get through this,” Gage said, his voice so low, if he hadn’t been right at my ear, I wouldn’t have heard him. “We will. All of us. It’ll never be easy, but we’ll get through it.”
“I love you,” I blurted, holding him, clutching his T-shirt in my fists, scared to let go. I just needed Gage to know that, to understand. Yes, I was fucked up. Yes, I was doing this all wrong. But that didn’t change the fact that he meant everything. “I do,” I added. “I love you so goddamn much.”
“I know.”
We remained like that for several minutes, holding one another up, tears falling, the fear and anger we’d built up finding a small but effective outlet.
“I hate this, Gage. I hate her not bein’ here. I don’t want to get outta bed anymore. Without her … without you…”
“You’ve got me,” Gage snapped, pulling back and gripping my neck again. “You understand me. You’ve got me. Always. No matter what.”
I searched his face, praying he meant that, but I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.
I'd never felt so much pain before. Never had anything hurt as much, caused such brutal agony in my chest as losing Kylie.
And the past several weeks … they were hell on earth as I navigated this new path, trying to figure out how I fit in my own life now. If I fit in it.
“I can’t be in this room. I can’t sleep in that bed.
” I glanced over at the spot Kylie used to occupy, and my chest constricted again, but this time, there was anger boiling in the pain.
“I can’t.” I looked back at Gage. “I made love to her that mornin’.
Right there. Right there in that fuckin’ bed.
I can’t be in here without thinkin’ about that.
About her. Missin’ what we were supposed to have for an eternity. That was it. My last moment with her.”
I saw something flash in Gage’s eyes. Pain? Misery?
“At least you had that,” Gage whispered.
Oh, that was far more than misery. That was agony and despair.