Curtain Call (The Jewel Project #7)

12. A Bit of Comfort

Kay could remember the first time she'd thought her life had shattered. 

It was in that moment when her ex-boyfriend Donnie had punched her for trying to break up with him and her parents had taken his side.

During that time, she'd just lost William and she was convinced that her life would be one endless storm. But, of course, at that time, she'd had Kyle.

She'd since had him in every difficult moment of her life because somehow he remembered that it was his job to always be there, to wipe her eyes and help her breathe.

But now, when she was left without him, how was she supposed to do that? The thought plagued her as she lay curled up in bed, hugging his pillow. The sheets still smelled like him. Like them. What would happen after she washed them? After enough time passed and his scent no longer lingered in the house?

"Hey, I brought you some tea." Angie sat next to her, holding a steaming mug.

Kay nodded, unable to speak. She'd been silent for hours and now she was afraid her voice would break, that she'd start crying again. She'd just managed to stop.

"It's okay if you don't want it," Angie said, her voice soothing. "You can tell me to go away."

"No." The word was ragged, but she managed to get it out as she sat up.

Angie had been right. Lying around, mourning, crying without being worried that the kids would see her, having Angie cater to her, it all helped. She still felt like shit, but the feeling that someone was there, that she was cared for took the edge off.

Angie smiled and passed her the steaming mug. Kay took it and held it against her chest, enjoying the warmth and the smell of lime. Yes, little thing could still bring her joy.

Her heart convulsed at the thought. It felt like a betrayal of her love for Kyle.

Liking tea doesn't mean you love me less.

The thought came in his voice, so real she was half-convinced he was back and speaking. The momentary hope crashed into nothingness around her and a sob escaped her lips.

"Oh, Kay." Angie moved over and wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly.

Kay held on to the mug, trying to hold back her tears, and not because of Angie, but because her head hurt and she was sick of crying. All the crying in the world was not going to bring Kyle back. Her gaze moved to the photo on the night desk, the one of her and Kyle and the kids being so happy.

She'd left the silly sticky note on it, too aware that it was Kyle's handwriting and she might never see it again.

"I know it sucks, I know it's terrible," Angie whispered.

She didn't, not really. Not to this extent, though she'd had bits and pieces of the experience. The only one who knew how Kay felt was Sam, and she'd considered many times talking to him again, sharing her grief with him. Maybe he had some helpful advice. Though when they did speak, right before Angie came over to stay, he hadn't had much to offer.

"Skye left me a letter," he'd said. "And it helped me get through it because I felt she was there, holding me up. I know you and Kyle were connected enough so that you'd know what he'd say in any given situation. Let him help you through it."

It made sense at the time, but after a few hours, she started dreading that she couldn't do it. Yes, she knew him so well, but she had no idea what he'd actually say in a moment like this because they'd never faced anything even remotely similar.