Bell grabbed my blanket-covered foot, squeezing it. “I know this might not be a comfort, but the depth of the pain is a measure of how deeply you loved each other. How much you impacted each other’s lives.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s going to take a long time to heal. And you’re going to walk with a limp while you’re doing it. But you will get through this.”
I met Bell’s eyes—so much wisdom and understanding and empathy swirled in them. She knew. She was a part of the club that no one joined voluntarily. The one that meant you’d lost someone who was a part of your soul. “The world feels fuzzy. Like I’ve been on one of those tilt-a-whirls that Caelyn made us go on at the fair for too long.”
“It’s shock. It’ll pass. And you’ll start to feel steady on your feet again. I promise.”
I nodded. The action was a bit wooden, but I knew Bell was right. I’d been through worse and had made it to the other side. And those trials had only made me stronger, tougher. “You’re right. I will.”
Bell dropped my foot and gave it a smack. “Damn straight. Now…why didn’t you call me when you got out of your meeting with Crosby?”
I glanced out the side windows of my guest cottage, the ones that looked out over the waves that crashed onto the shore. “I just needed to sort out my head on my own.” I loved Bell and Caelyn, knew they’d be here for me whenever they could, but they were also building their own lives and families. I didn’t want to be a burden to them. I needed to stand on my own two feet. To prove to myself that I could. But I didn’t know how to explain that to Bell without hurting her feelings.
“I get needing time to figure out what you’re feeling, but don’t shut us out. Caelyn and I are your family. We always will be. You can lean on us.”
Emotions, thick and swirling, gathered at the back of my throat. I knew that Bell believed that in her heart. But soon, she and Ford would be getting married, having babies. I wouldn’t be her priority anymore, and that’s how it should be. “I love you too, Bell.”
Her eyes narrowed on me. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I smiled. She knew me too well. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to suffer through having you around.”
Bell picked up one of the throw pillows and smacked me with it. “You should be honored that I’d deign to grace you with my presence.”
I held up both hands. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”
“That’s better.” She studied me for a moment. “Has Henry been by to check on you?”
I winced. He’d called after hearing of Harriet’s passing, wondering why I hadn’t let him know what had happened. He sent flowers, wanted to come and see me. “I told him I needed some space. That we should stop seeing each other, at least for right now.”
Bell stilled. “You’re pushing everyone away.”
“I’m not. But I’m not like you and Caelyn. You are fine sharing your emotions with the world. That’ll never be me.” My pain would always be a private thing. Visions of my mother drunk, crying and yelling outside The Gables about how Harriet had stolen her child flashed in my mind. I would never be that.
Bell squeezed my blanket-covered ankle. “You’re allowed to process however you need to. Just don’t hide from the people who love you.”
“I won’t. I promise.” I did my best to force a smile. “But if you’re going to stick around, then the least you can do is feed me.”
Bell grinned. “Firehouse Pizza?” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. “I know it’s not your junk food day, but come on, today has thrown you for a loop. I think you’ve earned some pineapple and pepperoni.”
“You’ve got a point.” I’d just add an extra two miles to my run tomorrow to make up for it. “Fine, go fetch me some pizza, woman.”
Bell laughed and pushed to her feet. “I’m picking up Caelyn, too. Want anything for dessert?”
“No, I’m good.” I watched her cross to the door, but just before she reached it, I spoke. “Bell?” She turned, her eyes searching my face. I didn’t look away. I let her see everything I was feeling in that moment. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, sister.”
I stayed curled up on the couch, losing myself in watching the waves crash onto the rocky beach. They were ever-changing but incredibly constant at the same time. I wanted to be like those swells, continuing to come back to shore no matter what life threw at me.
A knock sounded. I pushed to my feet. “That was quick,” I said, pulling open the front door. My heart spasmed in my chest, halting altogether for the briefest of moments before stuttering and tripping back to life. “Grant.”
“Hey, Kenna.”
Two words. That was all it took for my carefully bottled emotions to come crashing out, for the memories, the most painful ones, to sink in their claws.
A vicious twinge in my belly woke me from a dead sleep. My eyes blinked open, focusing on the glow-in-the-dark stars Caelyn had dotted all over our dorm room ceiling. My stomach contracted again, and I froze.
Something was wrong. So very wrong. That feeling wasn’t something I was supposed to be experiencing. I pushed up in bed, and as I moved, I felt a sticky wetness between my thighs.
I fumbled for the light on my nightstand, grasping for the switch several times before I got it. Bell mumbled something in the background, but I couldn’t make out the words past the roaring in my ears. I flipped back the covers and screamed.
Blood. There was so much blood. Bell and Caelyn were by my side in an instant.
“Oh, God, Kenna.” Caelyn grasped my hand. “What’s happening?”
“I-I don’t know. It hurts.” But I did know. Deep in my soul, I knew that I was losing my girl. My little bean.
“We need to get her to the hospital, right now.” Bell moved through our dorm room, gathering shoes and a purse.
“Maybe we should call an ambulance.”
“No!” My hand jerked in Caelyn’s. “No, I just want to go. I don’t want to wait.”
Caelyn brushed back the hair that was damp and sticking to my forehead. “Okay, we’ll get you there. Everything’s going to be okay.”
But everything hadn’t been okay. There’d been more blood and pain, and finally, emergency surgery where my heart stopped on the operating table. My little girl was gone, and I’d been left in wreckage, broken pieces that would never fit together perfectly again.
I blinked rapidly, Grant’s face coming back into focus again. He was different, his jaw sharper, more angular. And yet he looked the same, that familiar swoop of blond hair falling into his eyes. “What are you doing here?” Ice coated my tone, a frigidity born of loss and pain and betrayal.
I saw a flicker of surprise in Grant’s expression. I wasn’t the same girl he’d left behind, no longer naïve and blindly hopeful. Life had hardened me, and I was glad for the shell it had given me now.
He smiled. That was mostly the same too, though it was a bit slicker, more practiced. “I can’t stop by my family home? I wanted to see the estate, remember my grandmother.”