38. Chapter 38
Cate
Present
The bed was still rumpled from sleep. The windows were still blacked out. Nothing had changed.
I let the yellow envelope slip from my fingers. It hit the floor with a soft thud I felt more than heard.
I crawled into bed without bothering to turn on a light, curling onto my side and dragging the covers up to my chin. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep to come. It didn’t. My thoughts kept circling back, sharp and insistent.
The envelope.
With a frustrated sound, I shoved the blankets aside and sat up. I was still wearing my nylons. I hiked up my dress and peeled them off, tossing them blindly toward the corner of the room. I lay back down and tried again.
Nothing.
I stood up, reached for the zipper at the back of my dress, and tugged it down. The fabric pooled at my feet. I stepped out of it and crawled back into bed, bare skin against cool sheets.
Still awake.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, nearly tripping over the discarded dress. “Damn it,” I muttered, scooping it up and flinging it away. It landed beside the envelope.
I stared at it for a long moment before sinking to the floor.
My hands trembled as I picked up the envelope and spilled its contents across the carpet. The wallet landed first. I picked it up hesitantly and brought it close, breathing in.
The smell made my stomach turn. It was sour, metallic, unfamiliar. Not John, not even close.
I dropped it like it burned and pushed myself to my feet, my chest tight. My gaze caught on the photo lying among the other items, the one from Silverpine. I snatched it up and crossed the room in three quick strides.
I yanked open my dresser drawer, shoving aside lace and silk until my fingers closed around soft cotton. I pulled the shirt free and pressed it to my chest before lifting it to my face.
There.
John.
The scent was faint but unmistakable. Cedar and warmth and something that was him. My knees buckled and I sank back onto the bed, clutching the shirt like it was the only thing tethering me to the world.
I placed the photo on the pillow beside me. John’s arm was slung around my back, my smile wide and unguarded, the mountains rising behind us. We looked happy. We were happy.
“I didn’t even know you kept this,” I whispered.
I kissed the ring on my finger, the metal cool against my lips, then pulled the shirt tight against my chest and lay back. The envelope stayed on the floor. I didn’t want it near me. Not tonight.
This time, when I closed my eyes, they stayed shut.