“I’m not pretending. I do care.”
“You care so much that you’re leaving? What a guy.”
Grant’s face darkened to an angry red. “I never planned to stay. Besides, why should you care if I go? You don’t need another wannabe parent hanging around anyway.”
“Damn right.”
Grant slugged back the rest of his milk, and when he was done, all his anger was gone, like he’d just pushed it away.
Dale wished he knew how to do the same. He’d always thought he’d wanted his dad out of his life, but now that he was gone and there was no hope of him ever coming back, he wasn’t so sure. At least when Wyatt was in prison, there was a chance he’d become a good man—a chance that someday things would be different between them. But not now. All those chances were over.
Grant stood and laid a strong hand on Dale’s shoulder. He should have jerked away or shaken it off, but something in him reveled in the comfort Grant’s hand offered. “I know you hurt right now, but I want you to know something I wished someone had told me when my mom died.”
“What’s that, oh expert?”
His mocking tone didn’t even make Grant blink. His gaze was steady, confident. “It will get better. Maybe not much and maybe not right away, but you won’t always feel like this.”
Dale prayed he was right. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to stand feeling the way he did now—suffering through this constant, searing pain, like someone had scooped out a big chunk of him and poured in acid in its place. Nothing mattered but finding a way to escape this reality. He didn’t give a fuck about school or his SATs. He couldn’t even bring himself to talk to Angela. It’s not like they had any future together, anyway. Why bother?
He just wanted to crawl back into bed and try to sleep. It was the only thing that worked. Thank God he had a bottle of sleeping pills to help him get there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Grant lay on the couch, unable to sleep. Thoughts of what he’d do and where he’d go now that he was leaving Isabelle filled his head. It should have been an easy decision for him. He’d spent years dreaming about what he’d do after he left the army. And now he could do anything he wanted. Except stay here.
Sunlight filtered through the living-room curtains. It wasn’t even six, but Caleb had always been an early riser.
It was selfish of him to make the call, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He felt too alone not to reach out to his friends.
Caleb answered on the second ring. “Hey, Grant. Hold on a sec,” he said in a whisper.
Grant heard Lana make a sleepy, contented sound in the background, then the click of a door closing. “What’s up?” asked Caleb.
“I was calling to see how Lana was.” It was only partly the truth, but it made him feel like less of a jerk for interrupting his friends’ rest.
“David didn’t tell you our good news?”
“No, but I could sure use some of that right now.”
“Lana’s pregnant.” Grant could hear the proud smile in Caleb’s voice.
“Congratulations, man. That’s fantastic. Is she feeling better?”
“The flu is gone, thank God. Morning sickness made it worse, which is probably why she had a tough time of it, but they got the dehydration under control and she’s home now. If I’d known she was pregnant, I wouldn’t have freaked out quite so much.”
“You didn’t know? I thought you were going through fertility treatments.”
“We’d saved up for them but hadn’t actually started the process. Now we can use that money to get a house. Fix up a nursery.”
“I’m so happy for you.” And he was. The tension in his body had started to ease at the sound of his buddy’s happiness.
“I just wish you were going to be around, man. Have you got a job lined up yet?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something. Hell, you could be a recruiter from the way David tells it. Mad is working out great. I don’t think the man ever sleeps for all the work he gets done.”
Grant’s hand tightened against a stab of jealousy. “Good to hear. Think David will need any more help?”
“Not with Mad around. That man does the job of three people.”
A gaping hole opened up in Grant’s chest, and his last shred of hope flew out of it. “Sounds like it’s really working out, then.”
“I’ve never seen David happier.”
“He deserves it. You do, too.”
“How are things on your end?” asked Caleb. “How’s it working with your lady?”
Grant forced his voice to a careless tone. “Didn’t work out.”
“Sorry, man. I bet the rest of the single female population is thrilled, though. Think of all those women you’ll get to enjoy now that you’re a free man.”
Somehow, the prospect of hanging out with women he cared nothing about wasn’t as appealing as it had always been. Maybe it was just a passing thing. He sure as hell hoped so.
“I was thinking I’d come for a visit,” said Grant.
“I’d love to see you, but can we hold off for a few weeks? Lana’s still feeling sick, and whatever time I’m not taking care of her, I’m working. There wouldn’t be any time to spare right now, and I don’t want to have you come out just to ignore you.”
“Oh, sure. No problem. We’ll do it another time.” He had nothing but time.
“Sounds great.”
Grant heard Lana say something in the background he couldn’t quite make out.
Caleb said, “Gotta go, man. Lana pukes if she sits up before eating some crackers, and she’s all out.”
“Take care,” said Grant.
“You, too.”
Caleb hung up, leaving Grant in the same place he’d been before he’d bothered his friend. No sense in bothering David, too. It was only five there, anyway.
Grant was just going to have to suck it up and move on. He’d find something to do. His military background would help him land a decent job, even if it wasn’t near anyone he cared about. It wasn’t like they needed him, anyway. All his friends were doing great, and that was what really mattered.
When Isabelle got up the next morning, Grant’s things were already in his car. He was really leaving.
She knew sending him away now was the right thing to do. Better now than when they could no longer live without him—when everyone around her loved him as much as she did.
The heavy weight of grief settled in her chest. This was worse than losing Everett, though she thought that feeling that way somehow made her a smaller person. She couldn’t bring herself to care. The man she loved was walking out of her life, and he was never coming back. He’d said he meant to cut their ties, and she knew Grant was a man of his word. This was the last time she’d ever see him.
Isabelle wiped her tears on her sleeve before she went into the kitchen. She could hear Grant’s deep voice speaking to Rachel, though she couldn’t hear if the girl responded. With a bright smile plastered on her face, she pushed through the kitchen door.
“Morning,” she greeted them.
“Morning,” said Grant. “There’s more French toast if you want some.”
“Thanks.”
Isabelle would eat because it was the right thing to do, even though she already felt sick knowing what she had to face today. How could she smile and wish Grant farewell? How was she going to stay strong knowing she’d no longer wake up to his gorgeous smile and teasing banter? How was she going to sleep without reaching out for him?
Keith was bringing Amanda here soon, and she had to pull herself together. There was too much to do, and everyone was depending on her. She had to be strong. Later, she promised herself, she’d mourn Grant. Later. Not today.
Isabelle had barely slept last night, and the need for caffeine pulled at her. She poured herself a cup of coffee and filled it up to the brim with milk so she could stand to drink it. She sat at the table.
Rachel’s French toast was dotted with melted chocolate chips in the shape of a happy face. Grant’s doing, no doubt.
The girl lifted her mug. “Grant gave me coffee, too.”
Isabelle peered into the mug and saw only milk. She gave Grant a questioning look.
“Just a teaspoon,” he explained.
“I want to be wide awake when Momma gets here. When is she coming?”
“As soon as the doctors check her out, they’ll let her come home. It shouldn’t be too long.”
“Keith called,” said Grant. “They’re actually on their way now.”
Isabelle gulped her coffee down. “I’ve got to get clean sheets on my bed before she gets here.”
“You’re giving her your bed?” he asked.
“Stairs will be hard for her for a few more days. I’ll sleep upstairs, and Rachel can sleep with her mom.”
“Yay!” shouted Rachel.
Isabelle’s mouth curved in a real smile. Making Rachel happy again was going to be therapeutic.
“Can I help you with the bed?” Rachel asked.
“Sure. Go brush your teeth and get dressed. I’ll wait for you.”
Rachel raced off, leaving Isabelle alone in the kitchen with Grant. An uncomfortable silence clogged the air between them.
Isabelle cleared her throat, hoping to break the awkward quiet. “When you get settled, will you send me your new address? I’d hate to miss sending you a birthday card.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He reached up and smoothed a hand over her hair. Isabelle couldn’t stop herself from leaning into his touch.
“Because I don’t want to be reminded of how I feel right now on my birthday. I know you and I can never work, but that doesn’t mean this is any fun. Leaving you hurts.”
She wanted to tell him to stay if it hurt so bad, even if his leaving had been her idea. The words pounded at her heart, trying to get out, but she held them back. She was an adult. Sometimes the hardest decision was the right one. She knew that. All she had to do now was accept it—hold out just a little longer until he drove away.
“I understand,” was all she said.
“I’ll send you my contact information so if you need me again, you’ll know where to reach me. But please, don’t call just to catch up on old times. Don’t write to ask how I’m doing. Just let this be a clean break. Please.”
Isabelle nodded. Tears burned her eyes, and she had to get out. She didn’t want him to see her cry.
She jumped up from the table and left him sitting there alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Grant carried Amanda into the house and got her settled in Isabelle’s bed while Keith went over the various medications she was supposed to take with Isabelle. The poor woman was exhausted and white with pain by the time he tucked her in.
“Are you sure they shouldn’t have kept you a couple more days?” he asked her.
Amanda shook her head. “No insurance. I’ll be fine once I take the pain pills.”
