Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(66)

“No, please don’t leave me.” Bo squeezes my hand almost painfully.

“I promised I wouldn’t.”





Chapter Thirty


A pink and orange sun rises over the Eastern sky, telling us a new day has started. This is the first day since her birth that the

world will be without Rachel Cavanaugh. This and every day forward. For eternity.

I splash water on my face in the downstairs bathroom and find Bo and Regan asleep on adjacent couches in the living room. Monica’s

brewing coffee and hands me a cup as I tiptoe into the kitchen.

“Thanks for staying all night, Mon.” I feel like crying, but the well’s run dry.

“Of course. I’d never leave you like this. I’ll call Carrie today.”

“Where’s Josh?”

“He’s outside talking with David about how to handle people. They’ll be coming today. Thank God for a gated driveway, huh?”

I vaguely remember David coming to the house somewhere around three AM and discussing funeral arrangements with Bo. Everyone seems

to be in robot-mode right now. I suppose that’s the body’s way of protecting us from feeling all the pain at once. I slide out of

the kitchen chair and sneak to the front porch.

“Hey guys.” I sit on the top step and breathe in coffee steam.

“Have you slept, Sweetheart?” David sits next to me and pats my knee.

I shake my head as his simple question beckons my tears. David draws me into his body, and I feel Josh take the mug from my hands

as I give in to muscle-quaking sobs. Apart from a few errant tears, I haven’t cried in front of Bo, and I’ve been next to him

nearly non-stop since we left the hospital. It just hasn’t felt right, letting my puddle of pain drip into the canyon of loss

swallowing him whole. David stands in the middle of my distress, and Josh replaces him. Resting his chin on my head, I hear Josh

whispering words of prayer. I lift my head and turn to find David speaking with Ainsley in the driveway. I ignore her and look to

Josh.

“How do you do that?” I ask him through voice-shaking tears.

“What?” He shrugs.

“You know what prayers to say and when to say them and they f*cking make me feel better.” I force a frustrated laugh.

Josh chuckles. “Ah, Ember...it’s just always been a part of my life. It’s really important right now. I don’t know what else to

do.” Sweet desperation flows through his eyes. Monica comes out and hands Josh coffee as he hands mine back to me.

“You’re marrying a good man, Monica. A really good man.”

“I know.” She beams and kisses him. “Ainsley’s here?”

“Shit, I forgot.” As always, like she can hear my thoughts, Ainsley stalks toward the porch. I gulp a fair bit of coffee and

straighten my posture.

“November.” Ainsley nods at me, and I notice David narrow his eyes behind her. She’s as put together as ever, with the exception

of no makeup. Her puffy eyes prove she’s spent some time crying, but her gorgeous ensemble prevents me from feeling bad. It annoys

me. Everything about her annoys me.

“It’s early, Ainsley. Bo’s asleep inside. If you want, when he wakes up I can te -”

“I’ll wait here,” she cuts me off and shows herself to the porch swing. I shrug, uninterested in another go ‘round with Ainsley

Worthington.

An hour later, David’s gone to the funeral home and Regan steps outside, rubbing his arms like he’s cold, but it’s already over

seventy degrees. Ainsley prances to his side and gives him a hug as if she knows who he is and what Rae meant to him. As if she has

rights inside his grief. Regan’s a class act, however, and returns her condolences with some of his own. Ainsley has known Rae

longer than any of us on the porch, after all.

“Is Bo up?” Ainsley asks Regan, her hand on the door. I roll my eyes; Josh catches me and grins.

“He’s in the bathroom, I think.” He shrugs and sits next to me, not giving her any more information.

Just as she turns the knob, Ainsley lets out a surprised gasp as Bo pulls the door the rest of the way open and walks barefoot onto

the porch. He’s showered and changed his clothes from yesterday, now wearing baggy grey sweatpants that cling to life on his

jutting hips, and no shirt. Ainsley lets out a cry and throws her arms around his neck. I look over my shoulder and see him pat her

back while looking painfully at me. I stand and make my way down the stairs, needing a little space between me and the blonde

pixie. It’s not the time for pettiness, and I need a breather.

“Ember, you’re not leaving, are you?” Bo’s voice takes on an exhausted panic.

“No,” I turn and smile, “just taking a little walk. I’ll be right back.” I lock eyes with Ainsley for a second before turning

back down the driveway.

I turn left and head through a wooded part of the property, until I reach a small clearing that holds a hammock next to a still

pond. I collapse on the hammock and beg my body to cry it out; it swings back and forth with each released wail, and rocks me to