Withthe invitation, I told him about the bone-chilling trip toCoilleFeannagand Gracie’s ring. Alec hadn’t said as much butI wondered if he might have a suspect in mind at this point. I said so toTomand he listened quietly in the way he always had.
Then,when I reached the point of the story when we got back to the house, my eyesfell to the jeans I’d stripped off earlier. The same jeans that had beenshucked to the floor in the foyer, along with my red cotton underwear. My bodyinstinctively tensed with excruciating pleasure at the memory of Alec’s bodyagainst me, inside me, only to be swiftly accompanied by the guilt.
“Goddammit,Tom,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes from those jeans and the memories ofbeing held against that wall.
“What?”His voice sounded so tense and taut, that I feared it would snap and breakaltogether if he spoke again.
“Ihad sex with him,” I confessed, wiping a hand over my mouth. “I wasn’tthinking. I was terrified—we both were. We had just gotten back to the houseand I … I don’t know, it just happened. And now, I feel … I feel like the worstperson on the fucking planet.”
Tomcleared his throat. “Jesus, Rosie …”
“Iknow,” I said, as the urge to cry found me again. “I never should have let ithappen. Like, what the hell is even wrong with me? Why, why would I do thisshit when Gracie is gone and—”
“Rosie,if you never slept with someone ever again, Grace would still be gone.”
“I-Iknow that, but—”
“Iget that maybe it wasn’t the best time for it to happen, but people react totrauma in crazy ways. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
Isat on the bed and pulled my knees to my chest. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Like,do you remember the time we got into that car accident?”
“Yeah,”I replied quietly.
Ofcourse, I remembered. It was hard to forget. It had been snowing, a rareoccurrence in April, and the roads had been slick. Tom lost control of the carand spun out, crashing into a telephone pole, and deploying the airbags in thecar. Miraculously, we both came out unscathed, and when we got home from thehospital, I broke down in hysterics. Moments later, I found myself in his armson the living room floor, making love and numbing the events of our traumaticafternoon.
“Thatwas different though,” I insisted. “We could have died.”
“Andyou thought you could have died tonight.”
Iopened my lips to protest but quickly closed them to remind myself that he wasright. The fear of death had grasped us both firmly around the necks, and atthe first moment we felt safe, we had thrown ourselves headfirst into the mostprimal thing our bodies know to do.
Afterall, there can be no life without sex.
“AndRosie,” Tom continued, “even if that wasn’t the case, even if you just wantedto drown your sorrows by having meaningless sex with some guy in Scotland,you’re a grown-ass woman. You don’t have to make excuses, and you don’t have tofeel guilty for it.”
Ilaid my head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. I was convinced thatat any moment the crown molding would fall in jagged, splintered bits of wood,to leave me encased in a tomb of pain and sadness, as I remembered the lastconversation I ever had with my sister. The one where I had encouraged her tolive dangerously and throw herself at a man she barely knew. I was convincedthat conversation had gotten her killed. So, why should I be able to live totell the tale of my tryst with a Scotsman, when she was now laying in a morgue?
“Idon't deserve it,” I whispered to the crystal chandelier.
“What?”Tom asked.
“Idon't deserve it,” I spoke louder, enunciating every word and ensuring that heheard me.
“Whatdo you mean?”
Myfist landed against the bed, dealing a pathetic blow to the fluffy blanket.“Never mind,” I said. “Never mind. I'm going to bed. I'll talk to youtomorrow.”
“Rosie,come on. Talk—”
“I’mdone talking for now, okay?” I replied, choking on the rise of emotion. “I'llcall you tomorrow. Tell TJ I love him and that I'll call tomorrow.”
Hesighed. I knew he didn't want to hang up and let me go. I knew he was afraid. Itcrossed my mind that I might never get the chance to call again, and that thiscould be the last time I ever heard his voice. But none of that matteredanymore, as I denied him the chance to say goodbye and hung up the phone.
***
Wet,cold soil gave way beneath my feet as I ran between the unseen figures oftrees. I felt them; their skeletal branches whipping my naked arms and reachingfor my ankles, raking their twisted fingers through my hair. My lungs workedtirelessly, unable to take a full and deep breath of chilled air, as my legsbegged to stop. To sit and rest beneath the canopy of leaves not yet fallen.But the persistent snap and crunch of twigs was coming closer, and I needed tokeep running.
