Dark Secrets (Dark Secrets #1)(201)
Author: A.M. Hudson

He left this. He was here. I grabbed my blanket in a fist and tucked it to my chin. Why would he do this to me? Why would he leave this when I gave it back to him so I could move on?

I sobered myself with a shaky gulp of air and wiped my cheeks with my sleeve.

Because that was just it, wasn’t it? Forever. I promised him my forever, and he promised me eternity. But I had to move on. He made me move on, though he would never let me go. And it occurred to me then, that I’d never let him go either, and needed to stop trying—needed to wear this, keep David close to my heart, alive in my thoughts, because he was a part of me, and I felt nothing if I didn’t love him.

Mike would know; he’d know I missed David, but he’d accept it, because he loved me, too. I could never move on, not really. I could live for the rest of my life with Mike, and I could be his wife, but, as the fine inscription on the back of the locket read, I belonged to him—to David. I always would.

“Forever,” I told myself as I linked the chain around my neck and let it fall against my collarbones—back where it belonged.

Day turned into night again, and I listened to the familiar sound of dinner conversation going on in the dining room, without me. Mike’s booming laughter flowed up the stairs and poked me in the heart. I wished I could laugh. I wished I could laugh with Mike. But he seemed to be avoiding me. I think. Or maybe he was just trying to give me some space, I wasn’t sure, but he hovered by my door a lot—hardly ever knocked or came in…just hovered. Unless I needed something. Care and help, but no companionship. It just wasn’t like him to be so distant. Before the attack, there were never closed doors between us, but now it seemed like even the windows were shut—and I was all alone on the other side.

A screech of disapproval rose above the loud chatter of my family and Vicki said, “Greg, you can’t say that. It’s politically incorrect.”

Dad didn’t respond, but I pictured him laughing into his fist, his face red, his shoulders shaking.

“But it’s true, Vicki,” Mike said, “It’s rude, yes, but…” I stopped listening. I didn’t want to hear what they were saying. I didn’t want to be a part of their conversation—nor did I want to sit here wishing I was.

I clutched my secret locket and waited for the arrival of another tear-provoked sleep.

When the faucet stopped running and the lights and doors were positioned in their nightly rest stop, I snuggled down in my bed, closed my eyes, and imagined David beside me.

“How are you feeling?” the apparition asked, smiling at me; I could almost feel the solidity of his fingers as he trailed them along my hairline.

“Better now you’re here.”

He went to smile, then looked up to my opening door; I quickly tucked the locket away and closed my eyes.

Mike stood in the doorway, waiting to see if I’d wake, as usual, then wandered over to lock the window I’d already double-checked—twice, drawing my curtains closed again after. I wanted to look up and see what he was doing then, since his gaze seemed to have a physical effect on me, as if my body knew he was staring, but if I let him know I was awake, he’d stay with me for the night and I’d never get back to my dreams of David.

“Oh, Mike—I didn’t realise you were in here,” my dad whispered into the darkness.

“Yeah, I like to check on her before I go to bed,” Mike said in a deep, husky whisper.

“Is she sleeping?”

“Yeah.” His solemn, almost broken tone obviously set my dad’s mind wandering as it did mine.

“You okay, son?” Dad said, and the light filtering in from the hall disappeared.

“I’m worried about her, Greg.”

I opened one eye to see my dad lean against my dresser. “Me too,” he said. “I don’t think she’s okay, you know. She plays it tough—” Dad looked right at me; I closed my eye again. “But I never even see her cry. Not once. Surely something like this has got to leave a girl feeling something?”

“She cries,” Mike stated, his tone empty. “I know you don’t see it, but that’s because she wants everyone to think she’s okay.”

“You’ve seen her cry?”

I opened my eyes a little; Mike shook his head. “But I hear her. At night, when she thinks everyone’s asleep.” Mike looked at Dad. “A few times I’ve come to her door, trying to decide if I should come in, but she smiles and plays it cool when I catch her.” There was a pause. “She won’t talk to me, Greg, but she needs to talk to someone before she buries this grief too deep and we lose her.”

“Maybe she’ll talk to Emily?” Dad suggested.

No, I won’t.

“I doubt it,” Mike said, then sighed heavily, rubbing his face with both hands. “I don’t know. I guess we just need to give her more time.”

“I don’t know. I think we’re past that point, Mike. Vicki’s worried.” Dad combed the front of his hair with arched fingers. “She thinks we might need to get her some professional help.”

“Don’t do that,” Mike warned. “She’ll shut down if you do that. I’ll try talking to her tomorrow.”

I rolled onto my back and groaned, deliberately, to get them and their gossip out of my room.

“Okay.” Dad clapped Mike on the shoulder.

“But, don’t worry,” Mike said, looking at me again. “She is still capable of feeling.”

“I hope so,” Dad said. “Otherwise…”

I tensed, Dad’s pause lasting a little too long. Otherwise what?

“I know,” Mike said. “But she’s alive, Greg.”

“I’m starting to wonder if that’s all that counts.”

It’s not, Dad, I thought. I wished I had died. There was a point in the darkness when I wanted to come back, but not to this. Not to the nightmares I had for the way Jason touched me, the emptiness I felt for the way David left me, and the grief that hit me when I’d stand naked in the shower—feeling the exposure of my skin to the air—knowing I was safe, but feeling so scared and so bare. No one warned me that being awake again would be worse. No one told me I’d have bad dreams—falling, over and over again, from that tree, waking up just before I hit the ground.

Life wasn’t all that mattered, and I learned that, unfortunately, a little too late.

The light from their world intruded on my David fantasy time for a while longer. Dad had left the door open when he walked away, but I could feel Mike lingering at my bedside; he leaned down and stroked my hair, his worries expelling with his breath, and ran his thumb down my neck—the one place he wasn’t supposed to touch me anymore.