She looks around, gazing out the bay window into the backyard at the pool I put in last year. She walks past the island and goes straight to the windows. "Is that all yours?" She points all the way to the back of the fence way in the distance.
"It is,” I say, and I don’t tell her that the land all around it is also mine.
"Do you want anything to drink?" I ask her, walking over to the fridge and pulling it open. Her head turns to watch everything I’m doing. "There is sweet tea or lemonade."
"Quinn.” I turn and look at her. She is wearing white jeans that are just a touch too big for her, but if my family has anything to do with it, she’ll be filling them out in no time. "I can’t stay here."
I close the fridge and walk over to the island. Putting my hands down on it, I try to rein in the anger I feel when I think about her leaving. “And why not?" I ask her.
"I can’t stay in this house alone with you,” she says, and my heart sinks. Her words slice through my heart.
"Do you not trust me?" I ask. “I would never ever hurt you." The thought that she would think I would hurt her is just too much to bear. I shake my head and look at her, walking to her. Standing in front of her, I reach my hand up to push her hair away from her face. “I would never ever hurt you," I whisper, my fingers touching the side of her face ever so lightly.
"I know,” she says softly. “It’s just …"
She doesn’t have a chance to say anything when we hear the front door open, and I see the fear creep over her. She steps forward, and her eyes go to the back door.
“Hello!" we hear Amelia shout out.
I take a step away from her as my heart hammers in my chest, my fingers still feeling her. “In here,” I say, hearing her walking close to the family room.
"Hi," she says, smiling. “I put my bag in the first bedroom." She walks in and goes straight to the fridge and opens it. She looks over her shoulder at us. “You can tell your mother was here."
"Don’t listen to her,” I lean forward and whisper.
"Don’t listen to him. He hasn’t had a fridge this full since I don’t know when. He usually doesn’t even eat here."
"Oh, come on." I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “I cook my own breakfast."
"When?" Amelia turns and looks at me.
"I don’t remember,” I say, and then I hear her laugh. It’s more of a giggle, but it’s better than anything I’ve ever heard in my life. I turn and see her with her hand holding the bag pressed against her stomach. “I can cook."
"I’m sure you can,” she says between laughing.
"Did you show her all the stuff you bought her?" Amelia asks, and I can see the look in her eyes change in the blink of an eye and if I wasn’t looking right at her you would never know.
"I didn’t have a chance yet,” I say.
"Oh, good,” Amelia says. “This is my favorite part of all of this." She claps her hands. “Come on,” she says to Willow.
"You need to lie down,” I say. “And I need to go and get your meds."
"Um," she says. “I don’t have any money on me, and I don’t even know where my bank card is,” she says, and I see her squeezing the bag in her hand harder and harder. "I’ll go get them tomorrow."
"Let’s get you in bed," Amelia says, and Willow walks to her. “I can’t wait to see it all,” she says, and they walk out of the room. Amelia looks over at me and nods her head, and I know she will take care of her.
I walk out of the house, closing the door softly behind me and getting back into my truck. I pull out of the driveway with my heart in my stomach. I take one last look at the house before I take off, and I swear I feel her eyes on me.
Chapter 20
Willow
I watch him drive away from the house and then step away from the window. "I know it can be overwhelming," Amelia says, closing the walk-in closet she just opened to show me. “And I know you need your rest."
She walks over to sit on the bench at the foot of the bed, crossing her legs under her. My eyes take in the room, and I’m in awe. I have never seen a nicer room in my life. I have never seen a nicer home in my life. This is a fairy-tale castle where the princess lives. It’s just another reason I shouldn’t be here. “When you get up, we can put away the rest of your clothes."
I hold the black bag in my hand like a security blanket. "I really don’t know what to say." I look around. “About anything.”
"The good news is that you don’t need to really say anything." She smiles and gets up. “I’m going to go and get some work done while you nap."
She smiles at me and walks out of the door, closing it gently behind her. I finally drop the bag beside my feet and walk back to the bed, making the mistake of sitting on it. I sink into it like it’s a cloud in the sky. "I have to get out of here,” I say to myself, kicking off the flip-flops so I don’t get the cover dirty. I lay my head down on the pillow and make the mistake of turning on my side. Before I know it, I’m sinking into the darkness.
I feel a warmth all around me and then feel something put over me. I want to open my eyes, but the bed pulls me right back into slumber. When I finally open my eyes, I see that the room is almost dark, and it takes me a second to blink away the sleepiness. I look over and see the door open just a bit with a soft yellow light coming from the hallway. I sit up, and the blanket falls off me. Someone had put a blanket on me while I was sleeping.
I fold it back and get out of bed, going to the bathroom. The button on the pants take me a lot more time than just the hospital gown. I wonder if I should leave the room. I look out the window and see that Quinn’s truck is there, but Amelia’s truck is gone.
Inhaling deeply, I open the door and step out into the hallway to see if I hear any noise. The sounds of low talking have me stopping in my tracks. I take a couple more steps and look around the corner into the dimly lit room. I walk with my hand touching the wall as I look over my shoulder at the front door. The need to escape is becoming bigger and bigger. I stop in front of the writing that is on the wall.
The most important work you will ever do will be within the walls of your own home.
"You’re up," I hear Quinn say and turn to look at him getting up from the couch. Gone are his jeans and T-shirt and in its place are shorts and a T-shirt. "I came to check on you, but you were out."
"I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t hear you." I look at the television and see that he was watching something. "I …" I start to say, getting nervous.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, and I want to say no, but my stomach has other plans as it rumbles. He laughs, and I look at him and see that his eyes look sleepy.
"Were you sleeping?" I ask, and he stops in front of me.
"I might have dozed off a bit,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “That couch is way more comfortable than that hospital chair.”
I swallow and look around when he walks away from me, heading to the fridge. “You don’t have to cook,” I say. “I can wait until tomorrow."