“Thank you for being my brother—for being the best brother—and for giving me Shanti. After you di—” I choked on the word as a whimper burst out of me. I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘died’ out loud.
“After you left, I don’t know what would have happened to me without her, but it wouldn’t have been good. Having Shanti to look after made me want to live and ensure she had the life you guys had planned for her. You only got nineteen days with her to hold that precious gift, but you’d already given her the best start and made sure she had the world ahead of her. I’m fighting to do the same thing, and I promise I won’t let you down.
“You saved my life when we were kids so many times, and then you did it again with Shanti. I love you and Chastity, Cal, and I miss you guys. Some days it’s so hard to breathe, so hard to even move, but I’m getting there.”
“They say time heals,” a deep voice said out of the blue, and I couldn’t stop the small scream that came out of my mouth until I registered who it belonged to. Carter.
“I don’t think that’s a true statement,” he added, sitting down next to me on the grass. “It’s more accurate to say that time gives you the ability to live with part of you missing. You’re not healed, but you find the will to continue.”
It was morose but so fucking true, and this man would understand how I was feeling perfectly. He’d lost his parents in a house fire when we were kids, and the survivor's guilt and grief must have eaten away at him afterward.
“You’ve come a long way from the scrawny kid I met seventeen years ago, Naomi. Callum would be so fucking proud of you.” His voice was usually deep, but right now, the rasp in it showed where his emotions were at. Even though Carter was two years younger than him, my brother had been a role model for him and a friend.
I’d never thought or fantasized about meeting Carter again after he’d left our hometown of Fernandina Beach, Florida, but life just kept on bringing him back into my path. Sometimes it made it more difficult, but the rest of the time —like now—it soothed me.
He knew the person I was missing, so he understood why I was in the pain I was in.
“Do you think I’m doing okay with Shanti?” I asked. “And be brutally honest.” I couldn’t explain why I was asking him that question at this precise moment, but I suddenly needed to hear if I was or wasn’t and where I was going wrong so I could fix it.
Reaching out, he curled his fingers around my hand, then linked his with mine.
“I think Cal would be blown away. That little girl has the world around her and the sort of life a kid should have. Don’t compare yourself to your parents, baby, because it’s like night and day.”
And that was why I’d asked Carter the question. I hadn’t realized I’d needed that reassurance, but he knew me too well.
“Everything they did, I do the opposite of,” I whispered. “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, freaking out that she’s in a cupboard or the closet. It’s irrational, but I can’t bear thinking of Shanti in a small space, Carter. It’s getting easier the older she gets, but it’s always at the back of my mind.”
Carter stayed quiet for a moment, and I half expected him to jump up and run away. But finally, he said, “I’d have thought, with your childhood and what you and Callum went through, fears like that were normal. You’ve been through the torment and torture of what dark, enclosed spaces can do to you, and you want to protect her from ever experiencing it.”
Well, shit. When he phrased it like that, I guess it didn’t sound so nutty.
“I just feel sick at the thought of her ever being hurt or not being able to get out of a small space.”
The squeeze he gave my hand was comforting. “That’s what you call being a good parent, Nome.”
Fuck, that name. My brother used to call me that, and Heidi sometimes did, too, but it packed a punch whenever Carter used it.
Not sure what to say back to it and still trying to work my way through the myriad of emotions and thoughts I’d got going on, I decided staying quiet was the best thing.
Finally, Carter reached over and picked up a box I hadn’t noticed. “This is a little bit dumb, and feel free to laugh at me, but—” he cut off, sucking in a sharp breath. “Here.” He thrust it at me.
“What is it?”
Carefully lifting the lid, I angled it to the side to see inside using the light coming from the kitchen. All that was visible at the top was tissue paper, so I nudged it aside and reached in to pick up what looked like a picture frame from the back.