Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
It takes several deep breaths before I somewhat calm myself. I have to behave rationally. For everyone else’s but my own sake. I have to wear the mask and carry on.
My attention goes back to the paper bag. Turning it upside down, I give a shake, longing for more. Something. Anything. A sealed envelope drops out with a clank. Inside is something bulky. I run my fingers over the paper ridges. It feels like a chain. I break the seal and let the object slide out. It’s Carly’s platinum butterfly pendant, the one I gave her for her seventeenth birthday. Picking up the chain, I hold it up to the light. It dangles from my fingers, the butterfly soaring like a pendulum from left to right, right to left.
“Fly free, princess.” I press the silver wings to my lips. “Goodbye.”
Goodbye. This is where I make my peace, find my acceptance. It’ll be a long road to healing, and I honestly don’t know if I can do it. Holding the pendant over the jar of keepsakes, I let the chain run through my fingers, allowing it to slip from my grasp, link by link. It drops with a clink on top of the mementos. This is where it belongs, with all the other lives I took. I wring my hands together, intertwining my fingers until it hurts.
This was the last time.
The last one.
I’m done killing.
Valentina
The night is one of the longest of my life. I toss and turn and tiptoe downstairs several times to check on Gabriel. The door of his study remains closed. Not a sound comes from inside. Only a shard of light seeping from under the door confirms his presence. What do I do? How do you make something like this better? Sick with helpless grief and self-blaming worry, I pace between the kitchen and lounge until the first light pierces the awful night.
The sun is weak today with mist clouds gathering in the sky. The day feels broken. Everything feels broken. My heart shatters for Gabriel. I burst into tears every time I recall Quincy’s horrible words, the way he looked at me with concern and pity as he stuttered the news, because I play a guilty part in this tragedy. The pregnancy was hard for Carly to take. Even harder was the implied meaning that her father and I were intimate in secret, right under her nose. If I hadn’t fallen pregnant, none of this would’ve happened. Carly would’ve been blissfully unaware and maybe still alive. Yes, definitely alive. The more I think about it, the more I cringe in shame and burning sin. This is my fault. If I didn’t beg Gabriel to selfishly let me keep the baby he never wanted, this wouldn’t have happened. Will Gabriel ever forgive me? Can I forgive myself? I can’t deal with the answers, so I focus on the most pressing matter––taking care of Gabriel.
My gaze alternates between the rising sun obscured behind the clouds and the study door. When the door is still closed by eight, I take a hasty shower and check on Charlie before starting the tasks of the day on autopilot. I feed Oscar and Bruno and cook breakfast for Quincy, Rhett, and Charlie.
Quincy watches me from under his lashes as I prepare a tray for Gabriel. “How is he?”
I avert my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“He hasn’t come out of his study,” Rhett says in understanding.
I add sugar to the tray. “He needs time.”
“Of course.” Rhett gets to his feet and reaches for the tray. “Let me take that for you.”
“I’ve got it,” I say hastily. “Finish your breakfast.”
What I mean to say is that I need to see Gabriel. I ache to see him, to soothe him, to tell him how sorry I am, if he’ll even listen to me.
At the door, I balance the tray on the table in the hallway and knock.
His voice sounds simultaneously strong and tired. “Who is it?”
“Valentina.” I clear my throat. “I brought you breakfast.”
The sound of his chair scraping over the floor reaches me through the door, followed by his uneven footsteps. The door opens on a crack.
“Gabriel––”
“I’ll take it.”
Picking up the tray, I hand it over and lick my dry lips in preparation for what I want to say, but the shadow of the door falls over me as he shuts it in my face with a curt, “Thank you.”
“You were right,” Rhett says behind me, making me jump. “He needs time.”
I flush with shame that Rhett witnessed the rejection of my condolences. It’s a clear reflection of Gabriel’s judgment. I feel like guilt is carved on my chest. First my father and Charlie, then Tiny and Jerry, and now Carly.
“Yes.” I take several steps away from the door. “He needs space.”
“Val.” Rhett reaches for me. “Are you all right?”