What He Never Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #3)(48)

No, I hadn’t felt that cloud hovering, not until the moment it let loose and a thousand rain drops descended on me like a bucket of ice water.

Today marked five years without my parents, without my little sister, Mallory.

Without my soul.

I wasn’t sure if it was the shock of the date coming without me realizing it that had knocked me on my ass, or if the jolt of this particular hit rested in the fact that it had been five full years — a milestone that had come in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Whichever one it was, it had rendered me nearly dead, and I was thankful it was a Sunday, that it was storming — the weather outside just as miserable as I was inside.

I was also thankful for Rojo, who must have known something was off. From the moment I woke up, she was glued to my side, or — like now — to my chest, her body sprawled out over me in a protective blanket of heat. I rubbed the fur under her collar, dry eyes locked on the ceiling as the day slipped away.

Every year on this date, I’d think of their smiles, their voices, the little quirks that made them so uniquely them. I’d think of how old they would be, what they would be doing if they were still here. My sister would be married, I imagined — maybe pregnant, or maybe already with a kid or two. My parents would be retired, no doubt, and likely living out Mom’s dream of owning a lake house out on Lake Mockamixon. I wondered if I’d still be in New York, if they’d fly to visit me for Christmas, if we’d all meet up for a week in the summer at the lake house. I could close my eyes and picture it, the four of us together. A family.

Except I couldn’t see them as clearly, anymore.

Five years had passed, time slowly erasing their faces — their voices — from my memory. I could look at photographs, like the one that sat on my piano, but I couldn’t close my eyes and just see them or hear them, anymore.

My chest ached with the realization that they might be leaving me, for good this time. Forever.

Rojo nuzzled me, licking my chin before curling herself into me more. Tears pooled in my eyes but they stayed there, no blinks to set them free as I swallowed past the tightness in my throat.

“Sorry your new owner is such a mess,” I spoke softly to Rojo, running my hand over the smooth fur on her head.

She laid her head on my chest again, letting out an exaggerated breath through her nose. I imagined if she had a voice, she’d tell me to stop being such a baby and get up and do something with my day. But, even if she could tell me that, I’d just have to add her to the list of people I’d let down in my life.

There was nothing getting me off that couch.

It wasn’t quite dusk yet, but the heavy storm made it feel like it was midnight, the sky black and ominous outside my window. The only light was the low flicker of the two candles I’d lit on the coffee table, and I tried to find comfort in their warm glow as I closed my eyes again.

I just wanted to see them, to hear Mallory’s obnoxious laugh that I used to make fun of her for, to feel my parents’ arms wrap around me in a hug the way they did when I was nine years old. It had only been five years, and already I felt them slipping away. Life had gone on without them, moving at the same steady pace it always had, and somehow, that offended me. It wasn’t fair that the world kept spinning like that, when everything in my world had been taken.

A knock at the door caught me off guard, my eyes snapping open as Rojo scrambled off me in a fit of barks. Her nails skittered across the hardwood floor as she ran to the door, and I groaned, throwing the blanket off me and peeling myself out of the permanent home I’d made in the cushions that day.

As I suspected, there was a perfect indention of my body left behind.

“Alright, alright,” I said to Rojo as I made my way to the door. She continued barking, not at all fazed by my acknowledgement that I, too, knew there was someone at the door.

Who was there was another story altogether.

I’d cancelled my lesson with Sarah, explaining that I was feeling under the weather and didn’t want her to get sick, too. No one else was expected, and with it basically tornado-ing outside, every normal human being should have been inside.

Rojo was still barking when I opened the door, and on the other side of the screen door was the absolute last person I wanted to see.

Charlie stood on my porch, shielded by the overhang as she wrangled an oversized umbrella back to its folded state. The rain poured heavily behind her, a flash of lightning illuminating her silhouette like it wanted to brand it into my memory forever.

“Charlie?” I asked, swinging the screen door open and ushering her inside. Rojo was still barking, hopping around at my feet first before she moved to Charlie and circled back again. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Rain dripped off her floral print jacket and onto my floor, and she stood at the entryway with an almost apologetic smile, umbrella in one hand and her car keys in the other.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost too softly to be heard over the rain and Rojo’s barking.

I closed the door behind her, helping her out of her wet coat and hanging it on the rack by the door along with her umbrella.

“I should have called,” she said again, her voice more clear now that the door was closed, the storm muted outside. Rojo licked at the water on the floor before nudging Charlie’s hand. She smiled, not even needing to bend over to reach Rojo’s head with her small hand. “Who is this?”