Page 42 of Day Break

I hadn’t wanted any part of those memories.

I had nothing. Once again.

I lay there on the soft carpet just inside my door, my body too tired to cry any longer. I stared up at the dark ceiling as shadows played over the space. Dark thoughts rolled over me, around me.

Then I heard a soft whining and knew I had to move. I reached up, unlocked the door, and opened it.

Byron rushed in, sniffing my face as I nudged the door closed with my foot. He licked the salty tears from my cheeks before turning in a circle and curling up next to me. He propped his head on my elbow and just looked at me.

His dark eyes searched my face.

“I’m okay,” I told him.

He whined softly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I said, running my fingers through his soft fur. “I’ll stay,” I promised him.

Hearing these words, he seemed to relax. Within minutes, he was snoring.

Since I didn’t want to wake him, I lay there, looking up at the ceiling, trying desperately to push thoughts of my past to a deeper place in my mind. One where they wouldn’t surface so easily next time.

How was I going to face Lane in the morning?

What could I say to excuse my behavior?

Oh god! Tomorrow was going to be hell.

CHAPTER NINE

“The morning steals upon the night, melting the darkness.”

- William Shakespeare

Lane

I sat out on the patio, watching the sunrise and glancing towards the garage stairs. I was worried.

The night before, when Chloe had kissed me, I’d been thrown off kilter. Hell, I’d been wanting to kiss her but had refrained. There were too many factors telling me it was a bad idea. In instances like this, I usually went with my gut instincts.

Then she’d had a full-blown panic attack.

I knew what one looked like, since I’d had so many as a child after Sherry’s death.

And then she’d bolted on me. I had wondered if the panic attack had been a ruse, but why would she do that?

I’d followed her up the stairs and stood outside the door, listening to her cry. The sounds I’d heard coming from her had assured me that she hadn’t been faking it.

I’d leaned my head against the door, wishing I could help her. I lost track of time until I heard a noise behind me. When I turned, Byron was standing at the base of the stairs, looking up at me with worried eyes.

I had motioned for the dog to come up the stairs and then stood back as he scratched at the door.

When the door opened, Byron had rushed inside, disappearing into the darkness. Instantly, the crying had stopped.

I waited for a while. When I didn’t hear anything more, I snuck back down the stairs and inside the house.

I had been about to head up the stairs when I noticed the papers on the floor.