“Neil, please!” I shouted, slapping my palm against the door. I desperately pushed on the handle; I would break it if I had to. “Open the door! Open the goddamn door! Please!”
Something in the handle sprung, and the door came open. I thought for sure I would see Neil with slit wrists, lying unconscious on the floor. Instead, he sat beside Emma’s bed, clutching something to his chest. It was a cardigan she’d left behind when she’d moved out. She’d always meant to come back and get the rest of her stuff from the apartment, but she’d never really gotten around to it. Now, the few articles of clothing she’d left behind were scattered across the floor, some still on the hangers. One folding closet door stood open, half-detached from its track.
I spotted the bottle in the center of the floor. Dalmore, judging from the stag on the bottle. The top was off. There had been a glass, too, but it was in pieces, now, beneath a wet stain on the wallpaper.
My knees gave out. The frantic adrenaline that had coursed through my veins deserted me. I dropped to the carpet and sat back on my heels.
“Don’t lecture me!” he snapped, lashing out at me since he couldn’t do anything about what was really hurting him.
It didn’t matter. I couldn’t lecture him, or council him, or even comfort him. There was a tightly compressed ball of pain where my heart should have been, and it sucked all my words and feelings into it like a black hole.
And, God help me. I pushed the bottle closer to him.
CHAPTER FIVE
There’s always a second, right after you wake up, when you forget that someone you love is gone. Which was why I was so glad I woke before Neil did. When the shades rolled up—at nine, because we’d forgotten to turn off the
timer—he stirred beside me, and I held my breath. His eyes came open, and he squinted at the ceiling. Then, I saw it, the return to reality from the respite sleep had provided.
He covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I forgot.”
“I know.” I rolled to my side and put my arm over his chest. There was nothing I could do but be there beside him. I kissed his shoulder and held back my own tears. I could fall apart later, when I was alone. Neil needed every ounce of my strength, now.
But he didn’t break down. There was no repeat of last night’s desperate screams, no tears. He was just rubbing his eyes.
“I should call the lawyer,” he said, sitting up. He stifled a yawn behind his hand. “And Valerie. I need to see how she is.”
His business-as-usual demeanor threw me so off guard I couldn’t get my head on right. I managed to stammer, “M-maybe you don’t want to call Valerie this early.”
All Neil would do was try to be strong for her, and that was the last thing he needed to be doing. I had a suspicion Valerie would try to be strong for him, too, with similar negative results.
He nodded in agreement after a little “hmm,” of consideration. Then he stood and walked to the dressing room. I stared after him long after I heard the bathroom door shut.
What the hell was happening? Emma had just died. Sure, Neil dealt with basically everything by erecting a massive wall of denial, so I should have expected a little of this. But his daughter…
My chest ached. I wanted to roll over and scream into my pillow, because I knew what was coming. The size of the next meltdown would be directly proportionate to the amount of denial Neil managed to exert over himself.
I didn’t get a chance for a good, cleansing scream, though. Neil’s cell rang, and his lawyer’s number flashed on the screen. I scrambled across the bed, flailing for the phone, and somehow managed to answer before the caller hung up.
“Mr. Elwood,” the voice on the line said. “Let me express my most sincere condolences—”
“This is Neil’s wife,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to hear anybody’s condolences, even if they hadn’t been intended for me.
“I’m sorry. My deepest condolences to you, as well.” He paused. “Is Mr. Elwood available?”
“Not at the moment.” Because he had been replaced by the avatar of Okay-Neil. And when actual Neil came back, he wasn’t going to be able to take a phone call. He would be screaming and wrecking up the place, again. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, this concerns you, as well…” The lawyer’s voice trailed off, as though he were reading something. “There is a social worker from the State of New York who will be contacting you within the hour regarding Olivia Van der Graf…”
“Social worker?” My heart shuddered to a stop. Social worker meant DHS, right? Investigations of abuse or neglect? Something like that?
Oh, god, they weren’t going to put Olivia in foster care, were they? They couldn’t do that when there were family members who could take care of her. Neil would burn down the entire city.
“Yes, it seems that in their will, Mr. Van der Graf and Mrs. Elwood-Van der Graf appointed you and your husband as legal guardians.”
I developed sudden tinnitus. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you and Mr. Elwood will be responsible for the child, in a legal capacity, as though you were her parents.” He paused. “Were you aware that you had been named as guardians in their will?”