Life's Too Short (The Friend Zone #3)(56)

I saw the stress drain away from her beautiful expression. The relief.

She trusted me. She believed me when I said I’d make things okay—and I would.

I was good at my job. But seeing that she knew I was capable of what I said I would do made me prouder of my law degree than any court case I’d ever won, or any article ever written about it. Her opinion of me meant more to me than anything. And her advice did too.

I’d never in a million years have agreed to Christmas at Mom and Richard’s if it weren’t because Vanessa said I should. I trusted her implicitly. Especially when it came to things that would make me happy. I was beginning to realize that I couldn’t even think outside of my own limited world views to know what those things were.

I was unmovable. I didn’t like change. I didn’t like to adapt. It was easier to decide to hate something or someone and stick with it, because the other option would be to expose myself to the unknown or open myself up to be hurt. And she was right. Why hate Richard? What was the point? It was making everyone unhappy. Including me. And I don’t think I ever would have landed on this realization if she hadn’t taken me there.

She peered up at me with wet eyes, and I put a hand on her smooth cheek and brushed a tear off her face with my thumb. “I’ll go speak with Annabel, wrap this up so we can get you home.”

Gerald looked pleased with himself. “I told you it was nice to have a lawyer in the family—”

“Dad!” Vanessa glared at him.

“It’s ridiculous,” he said, going on unfazed. “Trying to lock up an innocent nineteen-year-old girl, shot for climbing into a window in her own house. This government has nothing better to do than mess with tax-paying citizens simply living their lives. I’m going to write the governor a strongly worded letter and tell him where he can shove it.”

Brent sighed dramatically. “Of course. Great idea. Right up there with cutting your own bangs. Well, I’ll be in the parking lot smoking stray cigarette butts if anyone needs me.” He hoisted his backpack, grabbed Joel by the hand, and left.

Vanessa looked back at me, exasperated, and I smiled at her.

I liked Brent. And his flaws and eccentricities aside, Gerald was starting to grow on me too.

He loved his family. He loved his daughters and he loved Grace, and I found it very hard to dislike him, no matter how off the wall his opinions were—at dinner he had announced that the moon landing was a hoax.

I gave Vanessa’s arm a squeeze and headed to the nurses’ station.

This was the second time I’d met Annabel, and even after half an hour of getting her groggy side of the story, I still hadn’t met her. She was coming out of anesthesia and she was drugged up—either by her own hand, or by the hospital. Either way, I think she barely registered the encounter. I was glad Vanessa didn’t get to see her. It would have upset her. Her sister was handcuffed to the bed.

I spoke with the head nurse and informed her that the patient had a high tolerance to narcotics, which should be taken into account when managing her pain. I also made it very clear that I expected her to be made comfortable and that I would be closely monitoring her care.

After I was done, I drove Vanessa home. Gerald and Sonja had their own car and left with Joel and Brent when we did. Vanessa looked spent. We got Grace from Yoga Lady and I carried her to Vanessa’s place and came inside on the premise that I’d help put the baby down for the night, but the truth was I didn’t want to leave her.

I hated the walls between us. The physical ones and ones you couldn’t see.

I wanted to ask Vanessa to stay the night at my place—which was ridiculous because I didn’t have a guest bedroom. But I wanted to ask her. And I knew if I did, she would. She was always about distraction and fun. She’d probably squeal about sleepovers and accept my invitation and make me paint my nails and do mud masks—and I didn’t even care. I’d do it. I’d put her in my bedroom with Grace and I’d take the couch…

But it was a bad idea for me.

This wasn’t a woman I was just friends with—even if she was just friends with me. Everything with Vanessa meant something. And every time she gave me more of herself, I found it difficult to give it back. If I got to wake up tomorrow morning and see her there, every day that I couldn’t would be that much emptier than before.

That’s why I couldn’t ask her to stay over. It would just make this harder on me, blur lines. Lines that she’d placed there for a reason. Lines she’d made clear she didn’t want moved.

Vanessa went to the bathroom to get into her pajamas while I changed Grace’s diaper. When she came out, she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and washed her face. She had on a maroon Vance Refrigeration shirt and some polka-dot pajama pants, and she smelled like toothpaste and some sort of flowery soap or lotion.

It felt like I should be getting changed too. Getting ready to go to bed with her. The feeling was so casual and natural I almost had to remind myself that I didn’t live here—even if it felt like I did.

I wondered what it would be like to be with her in the middle of the night. To sleep next to her, even if we never touched. Waking up with Grace to let Vanessa sleep, hearing Vanessa softly breathing and being able to see her as I opened my eyes, tuck a blanket around her. Know that she and Grace were safe and protected because I would never let anything happen to them…