she was on her way to see him.
Bold emotion gripped her, and she knew with certainty that what she felt for him was something worth holding onto, something worth cultivating. She couldn’t try to hide it any longer. He was someone she could love. He was someone she wanted to love.
There was no way she could be content with just a summer fling.
* * * * *
All the air was inexplicably knocked out of Henry’s lungs when Sasha pulled up in his driveway. He’d been expecting her – watching for her.
Meanwhile, he’d thrown together a modest dinner while listening to his police scanner. No news on the warden’s murderer, no mention of Randy Levinson. With a crescent moon hanging thin and dull in the sky, the outskirts of Cypress were dark and it was easy to imagine a fresh crime scene cropping up.
He escorted her into the house quickly, carrying her overnight bag, letting his fingers rest on the small of her back. It was a relief when they were inside and the door was locked behind them.
“How was your trip?” he asked, his mind still crackling with the sound of radio static. How was it that the police still hadn’t acted on the obvious: the fact that Randy Levinson was back?
“Good,” she said, and that was all. Uncharacteristic, for her.
“Was it a special occasion?”
She nodded. “It’s the anniversary of my dad’s death. We always spend it together, and lay flowers on his grave.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Her full mouth turned down a little at the corners, going a shade beyond her usual sexy pout, leaving her looking sad.
“Has he been gone long?”
Henry asked because that’s what he would’ve wanted. Some people might’ve steered away from the subject, but he knew treating any mention of the dead as taboo only made the pain of losing them worse. Thinking about someone you couldn’t talk about was isolating, and it wore you down over time. It’d taken him a while to accept that, but it was true.
He’d know. He had good and bad memories of those he’d lost. In the privacy of his own mind, the bad ones usually won out. He couldn’t talk about those though, and the good ones were different. After years of resistance, he could now relive those out loud, if he had the chance. And that shed a little light into the dark corners where the bad ones lurked.
“He died when I was sixteen, in a car accident.” Sasha sighed. “Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago, and other times it feels like it was just the other day. I guess it really has been too long for me to be making a big deal out of it now, though.”
“Don’t say that. He was your father – that is a big deal.”
Self-consciousness had flickered in her eyes before she’d cut herself short, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to mask her true feelings just because a certain number of years had gone by. There was no magic number that dissolved the bonds of grief. When you lost someone, that changed you forever.
“You’re right. I guess I just didn’t expect you to see it that way. When my dad died, we lived in a small town and it seemed like everyone came to his funeral. My mom and I were practically buried alive in casseroles … for the first week. By the time I graduated from high school two years later though, it felt like everyone had forgotten except me and my mom. Everyone else seemed to be over it.”
“People are like that,” Henry said. “They don’t remember what they don’t feel themselves. It’s human nature – they were over it from the second it happened, and their sympathy was exhausted shortly thereafter.”
Sasha’s eyes widened a little. “That’s exactly right – I mean, that’s exactly how it felt. By the time I graduated school, I was so upset with everyone for forgetting that I decided to leave the state.
“I went to culinary school in Louisiana. Nobody there had ever known my dad, so there was no reason to be upset with them for not
Bold emotion gripped her, and she knew with certainty that what she felt for him was something worth holding onto, something worth cultivating. She couldn’t try to hide it any longer. He was someone she could love. He was someone she wanted to love.
There was no way she could be content with just a summer fling.
* * * * *
All the air was inexplicably knocked out of Henry’s lungs when Sasha pulled up in his driveway. He’d been expecting her – watching for her.
Meanwhile, he’d thrown together a modest dinner while listening to his police scanner. No news on the warden’s murderer, no mention of Randy Levinson. With a crescent moon hanging thin and dull in the sky, the outskirts of Cypress were dark and it was easy to imagine a fresh crime scene cropping up.
He escorted her into the house quickly, carrying her overnight bag, letting his fingers rest on the small of her back. It was a relief when they were inside and the door was locked behind them.
“How was your trip?” he asked, his mind still crackling with the sound of radio static. How was it that the police still hadn’t acted on the obvious: the fact that Randy Levinson was back?
“Good,” she said, and that was all. Uncharacteristic, for her.
“Was it a special occasion?”
She nodded. “It’s the anniversary of my dad’s death. We always spend it together, and lay flowers on his grave.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Her full mouth turned down a little at the corners, going a shade beyond her usual sexy pout, leaving her looking sad.
“Has he been gone long?”
Henry asked because that’s what he would’ve wanted. Some people might’ve steered away from the subject, but he knew treating any mention of the dead as taboo only made the pain of losing them worse. Thinking about someone you couldn’t talk about was isolating, and it wore you down over time. It’d taken him a while to accept that, but it was true.
He’d know. He had good and bad memories of those he’d lost. In the privacy of his own mind, the bad ones usually won out. He couldn’t talk about those though, and the good ones were different. After years of resistance, he could now relive those out loud, if he had the chance. And that shed a little light into the dark corners where the bad ones lurked.
“He died when I was sixteen, in a car accident.” Sasha sighed. “Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago, and other times it feels like it was just the other day. I guess it really has been too long for me to be making a big deal out of it now, though.”
“Don’t say that. He was your father – that is a big deal.”
Self-consciousness had flickered in her eyes before she’d cut herself short, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to mask her true feelings just because a certain number of years had gone by. There was no magic number that dissolved the bonds of grief. When you lost someone, that changed you forever.
“You’re right. I guess I just didn’t expect you to see it that way. When my dad died, we lived in a small town and it seemed like everyone came to his funeral. My mom and I were practically buried alive in casseroles … for the first week. By the time I graduated from high school two years later though, it felt like everyone had forgotten except me and my mom. Everyone else seemed to be over it.”
“People are like that,” Henry said. “They don’t remember what they don’t feel themselves. It’s human nature – they were over it from the second it happened, and their sympathy was exhausted shortly thereafter.”
Sasha’s eyes widened a little. “That’s exactly right – I mean, that’s exactly how it felt. By the time I graduated school, I was so upset with everyone for forgetting that I decided to leave the state.
“I went to culinary school in Louisiana. Nobody there had ever known my dad, so there was no reason to be upset with them for not
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