6. Heidi

Istare at the calendar app on my phone, my lungs constricting so tight, I feel like someone has pulled on my back like the laces of a corset.

The anniversary of the day my life changed beyond all recognition looms in black and white on the screen. Just seeing that date sends shivers through my body, and uncontrollable waves of pain with it.

The ache inside me is as fierce now as it was then. I can’t even look at the date without tasting bile on my tongue and feeling the blood on my hands.

Fuck.

I blink, rapidly trying to clear the dizziness that swamps me as my vision rolls, making the screen wobble.

How has it been nearly another year?

And how does it feel like it happened only yesterday?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Startled, I snap my head up at Trick’s voice. I didn’t hear him step into the kitchen, and that’s worrying. How out of it must I have been?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure him, locking my phone and slipping it into my pocket before I reach for the kettle.

I don’t even want coffee, but I need to do something that doesn’t involve him paying too much attention to me. I know he’s worried about me. My outburst after Rage hit him must be playing through his mind. I can see in his eyes that he’s trying to understand me, and that’s disarming. No one has ever done that before, no matter how much vileness I spat, but I feel as if Trick is staring into my soul, trying to read my trauma like a book.

“Why are you lying to me?” His words are sharp, and my shoulders tense as my pulse kicks up a notch.

I lift my lashes to look at him, trying to suss out what he might know. “I’m fine. I told you that.” My voice cracks as I speak, as if I’m going to cry.

Fuck. I am. The tears are brimming in my eyes, ready to fall against my will.

All those carefully crafted walls I’ve kept in place start to tumble down, and I can’t stop it. Overwhelming pain lances through my chest, making me suck in a breath. I lean against the counter, my head dipped low as I try to calm myself.

Mortified that my mind decided this moment was the perfect time to break down, I close my eyes so I don’t have to see his expression while I lose it.

A hand presses against my spine, warm and firm. It’s such a basic thing to be touched by someone, but it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how it feels.

I want to lean into him and seek the comfort he’s offering, but I swallow my words before they slip out.

“Heidi, talk to me.” It comes out like a command, and my initial instinct is to do what I’m told.

“I… can’t.”

“You’re fucking scaring me right now.”

I’m scaring myself. I thought I had a handle on this. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady my rasping breaths.

“It’s coming up to the anniversary of Theo’s death.”

And my child’s.

His hand twitches on my back, and I risk lifting my gaze to his. Trick’s face softens on me, and that makes my stomach dip into my boots. It’s a look I’ve only ever seen him direct at Sophia—and in the past, Mara—and I’m unworthy of it.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Heidi. I should’ve known that?—”

“It’s fine,” I assure him, my throat so tight, I feel like I’m suffocating.

Last year, I was alone with Sophia, so I was able to hide away until the date passed. That’s not going to be possible this time, not with Trick in the house, and I can’t control my emotions with this. The pain of losing my husband was hard enough, but losing my child… that will scar my soul till my last breath.

Trick is going to see me unravel because I’m helpless to stop my outpouring of grief.

“No, it’s not. I should have…” He trails off, and that ugliness gets worse.

Tell him about your baby.

Before I can say anything, he reaches down and captures a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Everyone forgets that you lost the love of your life too.”

That clawed hand around my throat squeezes harder until I can’t breathe. I do miss Theo and I did love him, but I also hate him for dying. I can’t be certain the stress of his murder caused my miscarriage, but I’m sure it didn’t help.

“Time heals, right?” Oh, boy, did that sound sarcastic.

His brows come together at my tone, but he doesn’t give me the shit I know I deserve. I’m being a bitch, but I can’t stop myself.

“Not everything.” Sadness bleeds into his words, and my stomach sinks.

Trick isn’t the bad guy here. He’s just as fucked-up as I am and doing his best to survive it.

I close my eyes, pressing a hand to my aching chest as memories from that day flood my mind. I don’t want to relive it, but it’s always worse close to the anniversary.

“Sometimes, it hurts so badly, I can’t breathe,” I admit on a whisper, and it feels good to say, even if he believes I’m talking about Theo’s death.

Living this lie is exhausting.

“I feel like I have nothing left,” I say. I’m no longer in command of my mouth as the hysteria builds within me, wanting to escape.

“You have me and Sophia,” Trick tells me.

I have them for now, but this too will end. Trick will learn to be a father without my help, and I’ll have to go back to the tattered remains of the life I’m trying to escape.

And I don’t know if I can do that again.

I force a smile, needing this conversation to end. I don’t want to talk about my anguish. Numbness spreads through me, and I let it, preferring that to the chronic pain that’s constantly sitting in my chest.

“I’d better get Sophia ready. We need to leave soon.”

I shouldn’t get comfortable here. I don’t belong, and I’ve forgotten the truth—that the club got my husband killed, and Theo’s death resulted in me losing my baby.