Chapter 26
When Ben pulled into his driveway, Delilah”s little car wasn”t there. Maybe she had gone out to get some groceries. He wondered if he’d been low on something that she needed. He should”ve asked her when they were eating dinner last night, except she”d been acting so strangely. He hated that she’d gone to bed before they”d had a chance to really talk.
When he went inside the house, something seemed off. He looked around the living room.
All signs of McKenzie and Delilah were gone. He scented the air, frantic. It was like the whole thing had been a dream, like they”d never been there. Like the last two weeks hadn”t even happened.
He could still smell vanilla and sweet baby scents in his house, though. It hadn”t been a dream.
Which brought him to his next question—where the fuck were all their things?
He raced to Delilah and McKenzie”s bedroom. The crib was still there, but the sheets had been stripped from the mattress. Everything else in the room was gone. He went to Delilah”s dresser and opened one drawer after another.
Empty.
He brought his hands to his head and gripped his hair. No. No, this couldn”t be happening. They had left—why?
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. Had she not been happy here? He wanted her to be happy—he had tried to take care of her.
And two nights ago, she”d come to his bed. They hadn”t had a chance to talk about it, but it had meant something.
It had meant something to Ben, anyway. Maybe it hadn”t meant anything to Delilah.
He got up and walked through the house. The permanent pile of clean baby clothes from all the frequent washings was gone. He didn”t think he”d seen the seat of that chair in the corner in days. It was an ugly chair, anyway. He would rather see McKenzie”s clothes there, waiting to be folded.
He should have folded them. He should have done more, and maybe they would still be here.
There was a piece of paper in the center of the kitchen table. His spare key sat next to it.
Heart thudding dully in his chest, Ben picked up the paper and read.
Dear Ben,
I can”t thank you enough for letting McKenzie and me stay with you these past few days. Even though McKenzie is still young, it meant a lot to me that she got to meet some of Chase”s side of the family. I know that we will be in touch, given her special nature. I am very glad that we met.
Thank you also for recovering my stolen knife.
If it wouldn”t be too much trouble, I”m hoping that you could bring her crib to me at your earliest convenience. I was afraid I would break it if I took it apart.
Best,
Delilah
Ben stared at the words. So formal, so polite. It didn”t even sound like Delilah, but what the fuck did he know?
Apparently, nothing.
He sat staring at her scratchy handwriting—for how long, he had no idea. When he finally looked up, it was dark.
He should eat. And if he couldn”t eat, he should shift into his lion and run out these feelings.
He couldn”t do any of that. So instead, he slowly stood up and walked through the house to Chase”s room. There, he lay down on the bed fully clothed, his head resting on the pillow where hers had once rested.
He didn”t sleep. He didn”t think. He didn”t anything.
* * *
He must”ve sleptat some point, because he woke up when it was light outside. Delilah”s note lay on the sheets next to him and he picked it up again. He read the last lines again. Bring her the crib at his earliest convenience? No. Fuck no. It would never be convenient.
Something switched in him then. The blood started pounding in his ears and his vision narrowed. He wanted to destroy everything, he didn’t care that this room used to be Chase’s. In fact, he hated Chase, hated that Chase always got things first, hated that Chase’s judgment haunted him even now. Everything seemed clear and blurry at the same time, and Ben’s breathing was ragged in his ears. Fuck Chase. Fuck this empty room. Everyone had to leave, and Ben was so fucking sick of it, he wanted to destroy it and make it so no one would ever come here again.
He kicked over Chase’s nightstand, then he tore the sheets off the bed and wadded them up, hurling them across the room. Next, he got to work on the dresser, yanking out the drawers and stomping them with his boots. He got no satisfaction out of watching the wood splinter beneath his feet, so next he turned to the crib, ready to rip it apart, piece by piece.
He froze, staring at the beautiful dark wood, so sturdy, so safe. He gripped the rail and squeezed it, imagined it splintering in his hands.
Then he pictured McKenzie in the crib, waking up on one of those days he had taken care of her when Delilah was sick. How she had looked up at him with her clear, blue-green eyes, her auburn curls mashed on one side of her head where she’d been sleeping.
He let go of the crib railing as if he had been burnt. Then he sank to the floor, his body shaking, heaving.
He hadn”t cried since he was a boy, not even at Chase”s death.
But now, Ben cried.