Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2) (16 page)

BOOK: Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2)
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“Tristan wanted to come. I told him he couldn’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re not alone for this.” He locked my hand in his own.

“I can handle this, Kyle.” I jerked my hand away from him. “I’ve got to get in there,” I mumbled as I took long strides away from him.
 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone, Georgia. No matter what you think, you need someone, and I’m just glad I made the decision I did to come today, considering you’ve been left alone by the person who you think cares so much about you.”

“He respects me,” I mumbled as I kept walking, Kyle hustling behind me. I hurried up the few steps and opened the door of the brick building. We made our way through security before stepping up to the receptionist’s desk.

“I’m here for a parole hearing.” I passed the letter I’d received through the window. The receptionist scanned the letter and then looked up at me and over to Kyle.
 

“I’m her lawyer.” He pressed a hand to the small of my back. I shot him a glare as a shiver ran down my spine from his touch. She finally nodded before sending another guard out to escort us to the parole board meeting room.
 

Thirty minutes later, the hearing was over. I’d read my letter, teared up repeatedly, before breaking down completely. My shoulders were hunched and trembling as Kyle rubbed my back and whispered in my ear that it was going to be okay. Looks of sympathy spread across the parole board's faces as they watched me pour my heart out to them. Perfect strangers who held the stability of my future in their hands. Emotions seeped through me because it felt like my parents' memory, the tragic way they'd ended, how the world would perceive their story, was held in the hands of these half a dozen strangers. As we stepped out of the room, we passed a middle-aged woman with someone who looked to be her son. He looked no more than eighteen years old and was a perfect image of his father, the man that had taken my parents’ lives and had set me on a path full of pain. I paused for a moment when I looked into the woman’s eyes. She was teary and worn, as if she’d lived a hard life. I’m sure she had, and I felt badly for her. I felt an odd sense of kinship with her. Our lives had both been vaulted down a painful path through no fault of our own. The men who'd entered my house that night had taken things from both of us, things we could never get back.
 

I swallowed back another sob as Kyle wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him.

We reached the open air of the parking lot and I sucked in deep breaths.

“You okay?” He rubbed my back.

“I’m fine. I’m glad this is behind me. My part of it, anyway.” We wouldn’t know the parole board's decision for up to a month and even then, I would be notified by letter.
 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He continued to soothe me, rubbing my back, up my neck, down to the hollow of my spine, nearly to the top of my ass.
 

“Look, Kyle, I’m glad you were here. It was sweet of you. But none of this is a good idea. Us being together; it’s just not good,” I murmured. I had another night reserved at the hotel, but all I could think about was getting home to Tristan and our little slice of heaven on the beach.

“Is that your opinion or his?” His eyes flashed in anger.
 

“Mine,” I said firmly as I opened my car door.

“Look, Georgia. We’ve got a lot of history. Let me just take you out for something to eat. I wouldn't want you driving while you’re so upset anyway. I already have reservations.”

“Kyle,” I groaned.
 

“Come on. I’ll drive and bring you back to your car when we're done.”

I heaved a big sigh before caving. “Fine,” I murmured as I crawled into his black Audi. I knew Tristan wouldn't approve, but Kyle and I had grown up together, we had so much history, I wanted some sense of closure between us. I hated that the last time I'd seen him fists had been thrown.
 

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the Italian bistro we used to frequent. It was small, the lights were dim, the setting intimate and romantic.

“Really, Kyle?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.
 

“Can’t blame me for trying.” He passed me a sheepish grin.
 

“I can, actually. I’m with someone and I love him.”

“Okay. It’s just lunch, though.” He patted my knee like a big brother would. He was all over the place today and consequently had me unsure of whether I was coming or going.
 

Kyle escorted me into the restaurant by the small of my back before we sat down in a private corner. The hum of conversation was low around us. Kyle placed our orders. He remembered my favorites, and ordered a bottle of wine. This was all becoming very date-like and making my stomach twist with anxiety.
 

“Look, Georgia, I know you’re happy. You seem happy—happy as I’ve ever seen you, and I know it wasn’t me that did that. I haven’t put that smile on your face in years, and I feel terrible about that.” Kyle sipped his wine as his deep chocolate brown eyes bore into mine.
 

I took a drink and let the liquid ease down my throat, tingle out across my shoulders, and relax my whole body. “It’s okay, no apologies. It’s all in the past.”

“I know, but the thing is, I don’t want it to be. I miss you like fucking crazy. I fucked up so much, and I don’t blame you for leaving me, but I want you to know it's the best thing you could have done. I know that now. I’ve learned a lot—came to a lot of realizations. You were my everything, Georgia, and I took advantage of that, but I won’t anymore. I’ve changed.” He grabbed my hand and caressed the palm with his fingers. “Believe me, I’ve changed, and if you'd just give me another chance,” he whispered as his gaze held mine.
 

“This isn’t what I came here for, Kyle.” I pulled my hand from his and brought my wine glass to my lips again.
 

“I know. I know you think you and he are good together, but remember, Georgia. We were great. We were something. We were perfect for so long. I want that back. I’m going to make us work. No more fucking around, I swear. Just give me the chance to prove it to you.”

His beautiful browns held mine and I got lost in who we used to be. My memory drifted down the path to our past: high school, summers with baseball games and Fourth of July fireworks, holding hands and laughing, and it was all so sweet and fun until real life interceded and we slowly became incompatible. Kyle needed something from me that I couldn't give him—mainly a trophy wife that would shut her mouth while he worked long hours and fucked his receptionist.
 

“I’m not what you need. Not anymore.”
 

The waiter set our plates down and nodded before walking away, sensing the tension between us.
 

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. I miss you so much. I need you. I love you. I couldn’t ever love anyone like I love you,” he murmured, looking as sad as I’d ever seen him. My heart cracked open just a little bit for him as I realized my mind was made up and he really didn't have a chance. Not with me, anyway.

“Look, Kyle, what we had was perfect for a while. It was beautiful and you were my everything, but that wasn't right for me. I have to be
my
everything, not someone else’s. I need to put me first, and I’m doing that now.” I stroked his forearm. He nodded solemnly before finally breaking my gaze and lifting his fork. We ate in silence the rest of the meal, and in some ways, it was more therapeutic than I ever imagined it could be.
 

We walked out of the restaurant an hour later, Kyle’s hand at my back, leading me toward his car. We turned the corner of the building and approached his Audi to find a blonde in a too short dress, ankles crossed, ridiculously high heels on, leaning against the driver’s side of his car.
 

“Sorry to interrupt your romantic interlude, but when you missed the baby appointment today, I checked your datebook to find you had a reservation here.” The blonde sneered.
 

“Jesus Christ, Rachel.” Kyle ran a shaky hand through his hair.
 

“Georgia, I assume?” She nodded at me, contempt clear in her eyes.
 

“This isn’t what you think.” Kyle dropped his hand from my back and looked between us. I wasn't sure which one of us he was talking to.

“Baby?” I arched an eyebrow at Kyle.
 

“I'm Rachel.” The blonde stepped up to me and thrust a hand in my face. “His fiancée.” She wiggled a rock in my face. “And mother of his child.” She rubbed the small bump at her stomach.

“Baby, Kyle? Really? You’ve got a baby on the way?” I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t think to say anything else. “And what was all that in there?” A grin split out across my face. His eyes narrowed at my reaction.
 

“Georgia, what I said, I meant.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. As sincere as ever, huh, Kyle? I came today to give you a chance to be civil. I hated that we ended so disastrously, but this Kyle, this is so wrong. I'm done trying to patch up any bad blood between us.” I glared before glancing back at Rachel. “I’m sorry you’re in the position you're in with him. I don’t know you, but I know you deserve better. No girl deserves to be lied to. I just hope he’s a better father than a fiancé,” I spat before turning on my heel and heading back to the entrance of the restaurant to hail a taxi.
 

“What the fuck, Kyle?” I heard Kyle’s baby momma shriek.

“Ow,” Kyle groaned. She must have smacked him, and, without a doubt, he deserved it, that and much more. I laughed when I heard him trying to defend himself. This night had turned out much more entertaining than I’d originally thought it would be.

It was mid-afternoon when I left the restaurant. After getting my car and things from the hotel room, I checked out and hit the expressway, pushing the speed limit to get back to the beach and Tristan. He wasn't expecting me until tomorrow, but I couldn't stand the thought of spending another night in DC, hundreds of miles away from him and his comforting arms. I stopped for a triple shot latte for brain fuel and thought about calling him to let him know I'd be home early, but frowned when I found the battery on my phone had died. I tossed it on the seat beside me and continued to drive, music turned up, my foot edging the pedal a little more with every mile I passed, anxious to get home to my beautiful and supportive boyfriend. I wanted to be nowhere else except wrapped up in his strong arms. I wanted to peel my clothes off and lie against his chest, have him stroke my hair and wrap myself around his lean body and listen to his heartbeat as we fell asleep in our own little world.
 

I pulled onto our road after eight. It was normally a six-hour trip, but I’d made it in four and a half. I pulled into the twisting driveway and arched an eyebrow at the navy blue SUV parked next to Tristan's Jeep. I hadn’t seen it before, maybe it was a neighbor, although I couldn’t imagine who. I stepped out of the car, the waves crashing a little louder than usual, and saw Charlie trot around the side of the house. I bent and gave him a scratch behind the ear; he was as happy as ever to see me and get some attention.
 

“Hey, boy, is he outside with you?” Charlie gave his tail a wag and followed me as I made my way around the side of the house. I inhaled a deep breath of the uncharacteristically warm ocean air. I couldn't be happier to be back. The only thing that could make me happier would be Tristan’s arms wrapped around me, soothing away the stress of this awful day.
 

I stepped around the corner and found Tristan facing away from me, leaning against the railing of the deck, a pair of long, bronzed, decidedly feminine arms wrapped around his neck. Bile jumped into my throat and my heart felt like it would thud straight out of my chest. He knew I was coming home tonight, so why was he here with someone else? Did he want me to find out? Did he want to get caught cheating?
 

Shock cemented me to my spot, my eyes staring, wide as saucers, as I watched the scene in front of me. The waves roared while my heart echoed erratically in my ears. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t focus; all I could see was that nightmare playing out before me. The man I loved, in the embrace of another woman.
 

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