Page 23 of About Last Night
ELIZABETH
I’m covered in dust and little chunks of drywall, my muscles are aching and trembling with fatigue, and in spite of the discomfort, I’m happy.
Happier than I remember being since I was a kid. Before Mom died and Grandfather took us away from Dad.
“Hey. What’s with the frown?” Devon steps beside me, a matching frown on his face. “I thought you were having fun?”
“I am. But that got me thinking about the last time I felt this happy.”
“And that makes you sad?” His hand is on my lower back, rubbing comforting circles.
“The last time I remember being this happy was before my mom died.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.”
I can see a million questions flicker through his eyes but he doesn’t ask them.
“Grandfather went to court to get custody of me and Edward.”
“From your father?”
“Yes. And I don’t know how he did it, but we weren’t allowed to have contact with Dad until we were eighteen.”
“You’re joking.” With a shake of his head, he adds, “Not joking.”
“I wish.” I look at the demolition around us. We’ve taken a large section of the wall down but the thought of my grandfather has ruined my excitement and I don’t want to keep going. “We should clean up and start working on our plans.”
“Okay.” Devon removes his hand and steps away. A chill slithers up my spine. “I’ll get some buckets.”
I let him go with only a nod then walk around the room building piles of debris. We’ve been up here since he fed me the most delicious omelette I’ve ever eaten, and I know he’s letting me lead what we do today.
Letting me ignore my disaster of a life for another day.
At some point I’m going to have to face what happened yesterday. The consequences of running away without an explanation. The fallout of discovering my ex is a lying cheat.
But I’ve been working on that in my head. It’s amazing how breaking shit down physically helps you break things down mentally.
I smile. Devon was right about that.
“Now, that’s better.” He’s back with a stack of buckets to put the crumbled wall in. “Nothing prettier than your smile.”
Heat fills my cheeks and I duck my head to hide the blush. “Drop a bucket next to each pile and we’ll get this mess cleaned up fast.”
“Okay. You don’t like compliments. Noted.”
“No!” My head jerks up, my gaze snapping to his. “It’s not that.”
He takes a few steps toward me like I’m a wounded animal he’s frightened will run. “Then what is it?” He even lowers his voice so as not to spook me.
“I don’t get them.”
His eyebrows scrunch together over his nose. “No one has ever complimented you?”
I can understand his confusion and why he might feel that way, and I don’t censor my thoughts when I reply. “I’ve had them. Just not a lot of them. And the genuineness of them…” I shrug.
“Well, that stops today. From now on you will receive at least two a day.”
