“No.” Shane hangs his head in shame. “I’ve really blown things, haven’t I? We can’t get past it?”
“You tried to flip the blame to me, telling me?—”
“I know. I said you were in love with that freak.”
The goosebumps on my arms multiply, and in silence, I thank my hoodie for hiding them.
“It was just the voices. It got to be too much.”
“My parents weren’t the best judges of character, Shane.” Clearly not, as Mom had set me up on a blind date with Shane, and look where we are now. “They didn’t ever get to know their children as they should have. Ambrose and I, growing up, we only had each other.”
“That’s his fault, and it isn’t what they were saying.”
“It isn’t what anyone says.”
“I know, but it’s only them I ever listened to.” He turns away, directing his gaze at the house and peering inside.
“He’s not home if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t. How’s it coming along?”
“The decorating? It looks good downstairs. I’ve really thrown myself into it this last week.”
“I have my first therapy appointment on Saturday, but I can come and try to help paint over the words outside when I’m done. I can’t promise it’ll be great, but I promise I’ll try my best.”
I don’t answer, collecting the bag of trash at my feet as it falls on its side and the contents spill out.
I tremble, knowing how particular Shane is with his car. But he says nothing about the leftover food.
“I really am sorry, and I hope you can forgive me. I really did book that venue you wanted, and I know the wedding might not go ahead, but if we can take things slow, I can promise I’ll be better. We can start over as husband and wife. We can be happy again. One chance, one date at a time. Please, what do you say? Can I see you again?”
Taking a moment, I think about it. The years of us together with no physical violence, should they really be tainted by one terrible night?
“I promise to do better. Therapy will help. And just so you know, I’ve spoken to my mother. She should never have talked to you the way she did. I know that would have upset you.”
Keeping my lips sealed and the bitter taste in my mouth over his mother, I nod, agreeing.
“So, I can see you again?”
The idea of therapy and his commitment to change sway my decision.
“You can see me Saturday when you help clean up that mess.” Head bobbing to the house, I step out of the car.
“Dollancie,” I freeze, half out of the car and half in, to the sound of my name. “I love you.”
A chill runs through my body, and I can’t be sure if it’s from apprehension or hope. Maybe he will change. Maybe everyone needs to get a little pent-up frustration out of their system. Maybe that’s what Lucky did for me, and maybe things will be better now with Shane.
Deciding it’s hope, I give a little of that hope back when I say, “Prove it.”
CHAPTER 37
Ambrose—age nine
“Why did you stop?” Dollie asks, cradling in my arms, wondering why I stopped humming her favorite song from her favorite Barbie movie.
“He’s coming,” I say, and it hurts my cheeks. It’s only been a few days since he cut my face open, and every time I speak, those wounds rip apart again.
Dollie sits up straighter, her wide eyes on the ceiling.
