Page 180 of Please Open Me
Should’ve tried to save him from himself, that’s what a normal, loving partner would have done.
But I didn’t knowhow, which made me hate myself in ways I’d never expected.
The only one doing anything remotely productive right now was Lucian, which didn’t even make sense to me–and I was usually the one who made excuses for his less than savory behavior.
But, while Cameron and I crumbled, Lucian buckled down. For the last two weeks, every single thing the kids needed, he did.
Diapers.
Meals.
Grief counseling for toddlers who didn’t know how to spell death, but were somehow already mourning it.
He dried every tear, stayed up through every nightmare, and comforted three children who had no idea their lives had just ended twice over. He even found donor breast milk for Rosie when the stash Mason left in Leona’s freezer ran out.
And now, he was gone for the night, not out of avoidance, not to disappear, but because he took all three kids with him to deal with his family at Sebastian’s funeral.
Alone.
He hadn’t even asked for our help this morning, just packed them up and left. And, while I think he liked the distraction that came from playing Mr. Mom, I wished he was here. It was a lot easier to shoulder the burden when there was someone who’d loved Mason and Sebastian as I had.
I buried my face in my hands and let the weight of the last two weeks finally press down.
The news kept playing. The anchor’s voice was still too smooth for my liking. Another segment rolled, yet another montage of Mason singing under stage lights, dancing in ways I didn’t even know she could.
It was surreal. All of it. Like I’d been shoved into some alternate universe where Mason and Sebastian were still here instead of beinggone.
And here I was, torturing myself with highlight reels of a life that didn’t exist anymore. Of a person the world thought they knew but neverreallydid.
I reached for the remote, ready to shut it off. To end the performance. To stop pretending this grief felt the way it was supposed to.
But then–
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Violent pounding exploded against the front door.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. My head whipped toward the sound.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The pounding came again, louder this time, almost frenzied. It was as if someone was using their fists to break down the door.
For a second, I couldn’t move. My heart sputtered in my chest, and I debated running up stairs and pulling Cameron's big butt down stairs to see what was going on. That would have been the smart thing to do, but my body moved before my mind could.
Against any solid judgment, I stood and headed toward the front door. My socked feet slipped against the hard wood as I crossed the room in record speed, not even stopping to grab a weapon.
Again–that would have made too much sense.
My hands shook as the fumbled with the lock, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs and throat.
Eventually, the deadbolt clicked, I yanked the door open, and then I froze.
Blinking twice, I examined the person in front of me, not at all sure I was seeing them right. But, there in the pale porch light stoodMattie.
Her chest heaved and her face was streaked with dirt, and dried blood, and a hint of road rash. A half soaked hoodie clung to her body and her jeans looked as if someone had drug her for miles behind their car.
“Mattie?” I breathed.
