Page 57 of Cry Madness

Ivory flops back down in front of me. She grabs my hands. “Sweetheart, you’re still all sorts of torn apart in that pretty head. You still have a lot of issues to work through, and sure, some of it is because of that lunatic who stalked you, but that’s not all. You’re still working through your dad’s death—no, it’s true,” she says when I try to deny it. “I love you, babe, you know I do, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Rain or shine, remember? That’s what we promised each other way back when we were kids, but I can’t walk down this roadforyou. I can only walk itwithyou.” She gives my hands a gentle squeeze. “Alice, love, it’s time to let him go. Youneedto let him go.”

My father’s memory hangs silent between us for a good, long while before I rasp, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

I shudder in a trembling breath, fighting back tears. “If I let him go, I’ll forget the details of his face and the sound of his voice.”

I’m afraid I’ll never feel whole again if I set his memory free.

He’ll be gone, and I’ll be just…Alice.

What if that person isn’t enough?

Luther spent his life chasing adventure. I spent my childhood chasing him. His death left a bleeding wound that hasn’t closed because I won’t let it, and I slap a hand over my mouth to trap in a cry as a terrible truth works through me like an icy wave. I’ve used grief as an anchor to keep me tethered to pain rather than rejoicing in the eighteen years celebrating the incredible memories we made.

“No, love.” Ivory opens her arms. I toss the pillow and fall into her embrace, releasing the tears caught behindmy eyes. “It’s okay. Let it out. Let yourself feel it. Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you. You’re not alone.” She smooths a hand over my hair, rocking me. “You’ve never been alone. We’ve been here waiting for you to come back to us. Me. Maddox. Even March. Alice, you’re loved. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel our love?”

I do.

Oh, God, I do.

Nodding, I give up and give in, releasing years of heartache. “I miss him, Ivory,” I rasp between hiccupping sobs. I cling to her, holding her as tightly as I can. Needing her to keep me grounded. To keep my emotions from spinning out of control. “I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Alice.”

I lean away and slap away my tears. “I should have been there when he died. I shouldn’t have left Wonderland. I should have told someone about Rook.” I untangle myself from Ivory and shove my hair away from my wet face. “I made so many bad choices.”

“Fair,” Ivory says, adding, “but, sweetheart, if I had a dime for every shitty decision I made, I wouldn’t need my trust fund.”

Okay, now that has me laughing through my tears.

Smiling through my sniffles, I ask, “Can you believe I thought that if I went to Riverton, I could leave the broken me behind and start over? My plan didn’t work out so well, did it?”

Ivory wags a finger at me. “That’s because you didn’t start over. You ran away. Big difference.”

“Huge.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and draw a deep, fortifying breath. “No more running.”

“No more running.” She holds up her pinkie. “Promise.”

I hook my pinkie around hers. “Promise.”

We drop hands, and she says, “This is where you belong. This is where you’ve always belonged.”

“I know.” I release an audible exhale. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not giving up on me.”

“Alice, please, you’re not the only barnacle in this friendship. I’m stuck to you, too.”

I sputter out a laugh. “Well, okay, then.”

She throws an arm around me and tugs me toward the door. “Come on, let’s raid the kitchen because I’m thinking it’s movie night.”

You know what…? “That’s a damn fine idea.”

Because getting lost in someone else’s story for a little while is precisely what we both need.