She buries her head in my chest and plants a kiss on my sternum. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers.
“Me too.”
She closes the door behind us and we amble into the living room. I don’t let go of her; I need her touch, her presence, to assuage some of the stress rioting through me.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Shitty.” I sit down and pull her onto my lap. Nuzzling my face into her hair, I breathe her in and let it comfort me like it always does. “But I’m better at the moment.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. You sounded so upset last night. If Hux hadn’t been home, I would’ve come and found you.”
“This not being with you all the time, not having you accessible to me, has got to end.”
“One thing at a time, okay?” she whispers, kissing my cheek. “I’m here for you whenever you need me. You need to just focus on work for the next few days.”
I hold her tight, this precious girl that dropped into my life with a tray of champagne. She has no idea what she means to me or that I need her every minute of every day.
“Can I just hold you right now?” I ask, feeling my nerves settle. “I don’t want to think about anything other than what you feel like in my arms.”
“Sounds good to me,” she says and gets comfortable in my lap.
For the next half hour, I sit on her couch in the outskirts of Savannah and hold the one thing that I’m sure is the right thing.
Alison
THE FRONT DOOR OPENS AND I hear my mother’s voice. There’s something off with the tone, something that has the hair on the back of my neck sticking up.
I put down the brush I’d been running through my hair. Hillary’s House today wa
s insane and I was able to get a quick shower in before Mom brought Huxley home from school.
Walking into the hallway, I see them both standing in the foyer. My mom looks as white as a ghost.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, frozen in place.
“Some guy was taking my picture,” Hux declares, like it was no big deal. “Grandma went crazy, Mom. She—”
“What?” I shriek.
Mom takes off her coat and then shrugs it right back on again, physically shivering, even though it’s not that cold outside. “I got him off the bus like usual at my house. We started walking up the sidewalk—”
“And this man was in a van with a big camera,” Huxley cuts her off. I’m too nervous to even reprimand him for manners.
“What was he doing?” I ask, looking at Mom.
She just nods. “I called the police. The guy took off, but I got his license plate number and they pulled him over a few streets away. He’s being held downtown now.”
My heart clenches. The room starts spinning. “Oh my God.”
Hux’s arms are around my waist before I can think. I hold on to him for dear life.
My precious boy, the child that doesn’t deserve his privacy to be invaded because of my choices.
Guilt floods me, tears doing the same to my eyes. I feel like a piece of shit mother.
Every bad thing that could’ve happened today, every terrible thing that still could, sweeps through my mind all at once and I feel like I’m going to pass out. All I can do is hold on to Huxley.
“You wanna know something?” he asks, gazing up at me with his shining eyes.