“As many of you know, I haven’t been on here for a few weeks, and there is a reason for that. You know my mom was sick, and well, she … the doctors said it was terminal, and…”

Her mother had died on this day. That was why Verity was upset.

“Damn,” Sean said.

“She won’t let me in. I’ve got to go to her.”

“Hector, this isn’t a good idea. She wants to be alone.”

“Yeah, she can be alone in her thoughts, but she has been alone for too long. I’m not going to let her mourn another moment.” He left his home for a second time and went next door to Verity’s.

Knocking wouldn’t gain him access. No, what he needed was to get inside.

Didn’t they have spare keys? She had plant pots outside her front door. He lifted them, but that was clearly too obvious because there was no key. He looked around and put his hand beneath the doorstep, where he felt the hard ridge of the key. It had been taped beneath. Tearing it off, he held it in his hand, then let himself into Verity’s house.

He heard her sobbing, and it broke his heart.

Cutie came to him, clearly seeing what the noise was. He bent down, stroking behind her ears. “Where is she, sweet girl?” he asked.

She ran off and he followed her, finding Verity on the sofa, a box of tissues on the coffee table in front of her. With her hands in front of her face, she looked so lost, so broken.

He couldn’t stand it. There was no way he was going to let her suffer. He went to the sofa and sat down, and Verity gasped.

“It’s me.”

“How did you get in?”

“The key,” he said.

“What key?”

“The key underneath the step.”

“I didn’t put a key there.”

“Well, there was one there, and I’m not going to let you suffer alone. I’ve got you, Verity.” He pulled her into his arms and held her.

She didn’t fight him. She let go and sobbed.

****

She’d lived in the city for a long time. There was no way she would store a spare key underneath her doorstep. That was just asking for trouble.

Verity didn’t know why it was there, or how it got there, but she didn’t care. She was used to this day hurting so damn much. She was normally alone, wallowing in her misery. With Hector’s arms around her, in some odd way, it helped. She had never had anyone to share her grief with.

He let her go long enough to warm up some soup.

Hector was being so sweet. She sat on the sofa while Cutie was curled up on the floor right in front of the fake fire.

“I’m sorry,” Verity said.

“Don’t be.”

“You didn’t need to come around,” she said.

“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry I wasn’t here before.”

He was here now, and that was all that mattered. She put the spoon into the soup, lifted it to her mouth, and sipped at it.

It was a plain tomato soup, but it was her favorite. “This is nice,” she said.

“It’s not homemade. It came from a can. I found it in your stash.”

She chuckled, then became very aware of how she must look. Her face all red and swollen from crying. “I must look a mess.”

Hector shook his head and took her hand as she tried to hide her face. “You’re beautiful.”

“You lie so easily.”

“I’m not lying. You’re incredibly beautiful. Do you want to tell me about her?”

“You want to know?” Verity asked.

“She raised an incredible daughter. I know she’s going to be one heck of a woman.”

She smiled and Verity nodded her head. “She is. She really is.” She sobbed.

Hector took her hand. “I’m here.”

Verity sniffled. “You’re being so sweet to me.”

“It’s all part of the charm.”

“I think it would be easier to handle if you were a bully to me.”

“Not happening,” Hector said. “That guy is long gone. He was a dick who gave in to peer pressure. I’m much stronger now.”

“Wow, the fierce and respected Hector Carter admitting to falling for peer pressure.”

“At the time, it was the curse of being popular.”

“I bet it was.” She sniffled. She couldn’t think of him being the jerk. “My mom was like this force to be reckoned with. Even when Dad left for a younger woman, to go and sow his wild oats, it was like he didn’t matter.” She sighed. “I know she loved my dad, and she was heartbroken, but she was always so strong. Nothing ever brought her down. She was happy, like all the time. She always told me that life is worth living. We only get this one shot at it, and she didn’t want to spend it wallowing.”

She ate some more of her soup. It was still warm, but it wouldn’t be long before it got too cold. Verity couldn’t stand cold soup.

Tags: Sam Crescent Erotic
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