I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(95)

I blink back tears and stare at the angel for the next few minutes. Chase doesn’t move, he remains as still as a statue. I know he’s waiting for me to continue—and I plan to—but a part of me wishes I could see my love’s face right now so I could discern what he’s thinking. We’re getting to the hard part though, and I fear my words will fail me again if I take a chance and ask Chase to turn around. So, for now, I ask for nothing.

“I didn’t stop him, Chase,” I grind out, the angel blurring through my tears. “I was weak and afraid. I figured he was probably right. Sarah would be fine for a few minutes. I wracked my brain while Doug was pushing me down onto the bed. I was sure I’d locked all the doors, especially the one that led out to the patio…and the pool.” I choke up. “But it must not have been locked, after all. I must have forgotten to slide the lock earlier.”

At this point, everything rushes back, all the memories, all the feelings.

God, please help.

I break down completely, the floodgates opening. I sob, “My sister slid that door open, she went outside, she either got in or fell into the pool. She couldn’t swim though. She couldn’t swim, Chase. She couldn’t swim. Oh, God”—I am back where I was four years ago—“God, please help, please, please help. Don’t let her die, please, God, please.”

I am wracked with grief as Chase turns to face me.

“It was my fault.” I stare into Chase’s eyes and see my pain reflected in gunmetal blue.

He shakes his head, but I continue, “My sister died because I couldn’t find the strength to speak up to an * I shouldn’t have even been dating.”

More memories flood me, and I relive them now through my words.

“His hands, God, his hands, they were all over me, Chase, while my sister was outside drowning. And I knew nothing, nothing, not until I finally heard her screams.”

My boy is trying to take me in his arms, trying to comfort me, but I’m pushing him away like he’s Doug Wilson. “Kay, Kay,” he says softly.

“I didn’t want him touching me.”

I slap at Chase, but he catches my hand. “I know, baby, I know. It’s okay. He’s not here, it’s just me.”

I finally still and let my boy hug me. “I’m a horrible person, Chase,” I sob into his bare shoulder, “a horrible daughter, and a horrible sister.”

“No you’re not any of those things. What happened that night was just a terrible, terrible accident.” He pauses. “In fact, if anyone carries any blame it’s Doug Wilson. He should’ve never put you in that position.”

Doug definitely played a role, but guilt still plagues me.

Chase asks, “What did that f*cker do when he saw what had happened?”

I tell him the truth. “Doug ran away.”

And that’s exactly what happened. Doug Wilson took off.

After I heard Sarah’s screams and jumped out of bed—thankfully, still fully clothed—I ran downstairs and out to the back. Doug was on my heels, but he stopped short when he saw me dragging my sister’s lifeless body from the water. As I was administering CPR—to no avail—Doug turned and ran. To this day, no one—besides him and me, and my mother after I told her—knows he was there with me that night.

Oh, and now Chase Gartner knows the truth.

After I finish, and my story is laid out before the man I love, I say, “See, you’re not the broken one, Chase. I am.”

He trails a finger down my tear-soaked cheek. “That’s not true, baby.”

I catch his hand and squeeze it tightly. “Yes, it is true. I am shattered.”

He takes a deep breath. “Then I guess we’ll be broken together.”

I look at him and shake my head in disbelief. “You don’t hate me now? You don’t want to run away and leave forever? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

Chase looks as pained as I feel right now. “God, of course not,” he says. “I love you, Kay. Nothing changes that.”

He takes my face in his hands and kisses my lips with fervor.

I can’t believe this man’s not turning away, like my mother did four years earlier when she heard the same story. My boy’s love is so much truer though. His belief in me is so solid it makes me think maybe I am not to blame for everything that happened that night.

But, just in case, when our lips part, I lay my flayed heart out before me, and say three little words—to Chase, to Sarah, to God, to a mother who’s forsaken me, “Please forgive me.”





Chapter Seventeen


Chase


“There’s nothing to forgive, sweet girl. You’re not to blame for what happened.”

I tell Kay this, again and again, but she continues to try and stop me. “No—”

I place one finger on her lips and cup her chin in my hand. “Shh…” I shake my head. “There is nothing you can say that will ever convince me you’re responsible for what happened to Sarah.”

“But I left her alone, Chase,” Kay protests. “I didn’t protect her.”

“That wasn’t your fault, baby. I told you, if anything, it’s that *’s fault. He took advantage of your fear of your mother and your fear of him. He forced his way into your house, he wouldn’t leave, and he trapped you upstairs. How were you supposed to fight him?”