Page 80 of Worth the Want

“Yeah, I think Hazel is too.” I look up at Knox. God he’s just so fucking handsome.

“I’ll get her,” he says, taking her off my lap, laying her against him.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Indie.”

I walk into the kitchen and find Mary and Tom laughing together.

“I just wanted to say thank you for having me,” I call from the doorway.

“Oh, of course. You’re welcome anytime, sweetheart.”

“Dinner was delicious, any chance I could get the recipe?”

“You’re more than welcome to have it, but come over again, and I’ll teach you.” My chest expands at Mary’s offer.

“Thank you. That would be great.”

“Bye, Mom, Dad. Love you and thank you for dinner.”

“Love you, son.”

We walk from the big house to the truck, and as wonderful as the evening has been, seeing Knox’s family and the love they have for one another, the overwhelm is starting to slither in. Grief is funny like that. No matter how long it’s been. Pain is still pain.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Thank you for inviting me. Your family really is one in a million.”

“I’m lucky.”

“They’re a little lucky to have you too.”

“Just a little?”

I shrug. “Maybe a bit more than a little.”

“High praise,” he quips.

On the drive, I’m quieter than usual. Hazel is fast asleep in her car seat, and Knox is humming along to the radio. My lips curl at the sound. As I watch the shadowy trees pass by, my thoughts turn darker the closer we get to home. Once there, I get out of the truck, watching Knox head for the big house, but I stay rooted on the path to the guesthouse.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asks from the steps.

“Not tonight. I’m not feeling the best. Just a little headache, but I think I’ll take a shower and call it a night.”

“Stay here. I’ll rub your feet and make you some tea.” I melt a little more. He’s exactly the kind of man I want, and I desperately want to let him hold me in those strong arms, take care of me—but I can’t, not tonight. Tonight, I have some demons to face, and I think I may have to do it alone.

“As amazing as that sounds, I think I just want to get home and to bed. Rain check?”

“Open invitation,” he reminds me.

“Goodnight, Knox.”

“Goodnight, Honey.” His use of my nickname has me almost ready to run up the steps and jump into his arms with Hazel. But I don’t—I walk home alone.

After my shower, I change into my favorite pajamas and sit on the floor of my bedroom. A deep sense of dread fills me, settling into my bones. I haven’t completely been livingin reality for a while now, and this box in front of me is proof. I reach in, pulling out the stack of stiff papers. Then another, and another. I untie the twine, sifting through them.

My shoes got stolen from my gym locker again.