Beneath the Scars - Page 84

“That’s what he does, Mrs. Cooper. He fooled me, as well.”

She nodded in understanding, patting my shoulder. “I wish I could help.”

My fingers pulled at the sleeve of my sweater. “Why are you here?”

She hesitated, heaving out a large gust of air. “Megan, I had a message from Zachary last night.”

Hearing his name, my heart started to pound in my chest. “Is he all right?”

She looked surprised at my question. “I believe so. He instructed my husband and me to come close up his house.”

Pain lanced, constricting my chest. I pressed my hand to my heart, trying to stop the ache that was forming. “Did he say for how long?”

“Indefinitely.”

Tremors ran through my spine. He wasn’t coming back.

Mrs. Cooper shifted, looking uncomfortable. “He asked me to check and see if you had taken your things. If not, to remove what belonged to you and return it before I locked the place up and engaged the security system. He wants you to give me the key.”

I hadn’t been back. I couldn’t face going into his house and the echoing silence that would greet me. I shoved my hand into my pocket, fingering the silver key resting inside. He’d only given it to me a few days prior, now he wanted it back; he wanted my things removed.

There would be no chance to explain—no conversations—no second chances.

I looked at Karen, fighting the tears. “I can’t—” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I can’t go in there.”

She shook her head. “I’ll go with Mrs. Cooper. Can you tell me what’s there?”

“Some clothes and toiletries,” I rasped out. “My laptop.” I racked my brain. “I don’t know…I don’t know what else is there.” I couldn’t think; I could barely form the words over the roaring in my head.

He wasn’t coming back.

Karen took the key from my shaking hand. “I’ll assume I need to take anything feminine or that I recognize is yours. Go back to the house, Megan. I’ll take care of this for you.” She grabbed my arm, frowning. “Can you make it back to the house? You’re scaring me a little.”

“I need a moment,” I pleaded. “Just give me a second.”

Karen and Mrs. Cooper exchanged a look. I shut my eyes and inhaled deep gulps of air, willing myself to calm.

I had spent the last two days in denial. I kept telling myself it was over, even as a small hope inside me stayed lit. Hope said he would realize how wrong he had been and that I couldn’t possibly be the awful person he was led to believe. Hope told me he would come back and we’d talk and face this together.

But hope just died.

“Anything else?” Karen asked.

“My journals he gave me,” I whispered, making a decision. “They’re on the table.” He had brought them over, hoping I would open one and start writing, but they were still empty.

He gave them to me and I wanted them. A tangible reminder, that at one point, I had meant something to him. The first gift he ever gave another person. I had meant enough to him that he made such an immense gesture.

I needed my journals.

“Okay, I’ll get them. You go back to the house and sit down before you fall down. Please.”

I nodded, watching them as they climbed the stairs, Dixie following them. I didn’t try and stop her. I turned, and with slow, measured steps, walked to Karen’s house, alone.

Reminding myself, the whole way, to keep breathing.* * *When night fell, it felt endless. Darkness descended in slow motion, like ink dripping from a bottle, one drop at a time, until the sky was filled with blackness. The only light I could see were the stars that shone like small diamonds, set into the ebony velvet of the heavens. I inhaled, the scent of the ocean all around me in the night. I huddled farther into the blanket I was wrapped in, as I sat on the deck staring into the sky. I had given up trying to sleep. I knew it wasn’t going to happen. The past weeks played and replayed in my head on an endless loop. Every word, every touch, the tiniest of details of my time with Zachary screamed at me. I couldn’t shut them off.

I knew Karen was worried. Every morning she shook her head as she watched the circles under my eyes grow darker. Her sighs of frustration grew louder with every meal I picked at, and each word I uttered in Zachary’s defense. She refused to leave, saying she was too worried about me, and I refused to go back to Boston with her. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. We were at an impasse.

Another long shiver ran through me and I knew I had to go back inside the house. The days were warming up, but the nights were still cold and I had been outside for a while, gazing at the darkened horizon, wondering if by chance, Zachary was doing the same thing wherever he was. With one last look, and a shaky sigh, I got up slowly and stepped back inside.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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