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—Simone—
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My heart dropped from my chest. The time I’d been dreading had finally come; to bare my soul.
I swallowed and ran my finger through the water droplets on my legs to detract from the uneasy swirl in my stomach. “What do you want to know?”
Banks remained relaxed, though his eyes studied me closely. “Just anything you want to share. How you guys met. What he was like. Perhaps how you lost him.”
Nodding, I tackled the easiest one first. “We met at a local coffee shop and argued over a Chai latte.”
A little smile tugged Banks’s mouth, though he remained quiet.
“He walked me back to work, and we said that if it was meant to be, we would bump into each other again.”
“How long did it take?”
I smiled. “twenty-four hours. Same coffee shop. Same time. Just the next day.”
My heart raced at the memory but didn’t grow heavy like it usually did when I talked about Reagan. I focused on only the positive memories, not the ones that broke me.
“He was extremely caring and kind. Tall, dark, and handsome. Wore a designer suit like he was born in one. He was attentive and fun and swept me off my feet every moment he could. Things got serious quickly and neither of us regretted it a single day.”
I paused to clear the wedge from my throat and focused on paddling my feet in and out of the water. My voice wavered as I got to the hardest part to talk about.
“We’d been out for dinner to celebrate our three-year anniversary the night he ended up in the hospital.” I squeezed my eyes closed. “We were walking back to our car when this guy came out of nowhere and cold-cocked him with a sucker punch for no reason. No weapon, no mugging, just punched Reagan so hard on the side of his head that he immediately dropped to the sidewalk...”
My shuddering inhale severed the recount.
Banks lifted his head. “You don’t need to continue if it hurts too much, babe.”
Shaking my head, I let out a full breath. “It’s okay. I want to talk about him... it’s just hard.”
Banks shifted closer and fleetingly touched my knee to convey his support. “Only if you’re okay.”
I nodded and took a big breath. “I am. Talking about that part just makes me so angry because the guy who killed Reagan claimed he had no recollection of it and only got a prison sentence of three years, eight months.”
“That’s super shit, sweetheart.”
“It’s the worst.” I swallowed, then shook my head as I resumed my recount. “So, I called 911 and waited what for seemed like hours. I didn’t know how to do CPR, but I tried anyway. I didn’t know how often to breathe for him or how hard to press on his chest. I don’t think it helped, but I was desperate to do something, anything, to try to save him.
“The ambulance finally arrived, and I don’t actually remember the trip to the hospital. The police dropped me there after taking my statement, and when I was eventually allowed into the ICU to see Reagan the next morning, the nurse told me he was in an induced coma after sustaining severe brain damage from the punch. Machines were keeping him alive.”
Banks’s fingers flexed on my knee and his voice cracked, “Oh, sweetheart.”
I swiped away the tears freely running down my cheeks, then set one palm atop of Banks’s hand on my knee.
“I remember sitting on the edge of Reagan’s bed, holding his hand, stunned, terrified, and sickened with worry.” My breath shuddered as I inhaled to continue. “Things got worse after his parents arrived. They blamed me for what happened. At first, I thought it was their shock and grief, but their accusations only got worse.”
I choked on the sob I couldn’t contain while bleeding words as if creating fresh slices on my skin.
“We held on for three weeks, hoping and praying for a miracle, but when that didn’t come, we took the doctor’s advice to let him pass. I had to say a forever goodbye with his parents standing at his bedside. I thought we’d have hours after the machines were turned off, but he passed so quickly it was obvious it was his time to go.
“We buried him the next week, then after testifying against his murderer, I had to fight his parents in court because they took everything. For me, it was never about the money; it was about fulfilling Reagan’s wishes and standing up for what was right instead of letting his parents walk all over me. The day after I lost the court case, I decided to move from Denver. I had no idea where or exactly when, but my entire world there was too toxic and tainted to stay.
“I just want to be happy, and I just want this pain to go away. I don’t want to forget, but I hate that the past won’t release me enough to move on without being cut to the bone by guilt every time I manage to take a tiny step forward.” I hiccupped a sob. “I just want life to cut me a fucking break!”
Banks shifted to between my legs and wrapped his arms around my waist. Splaying his palms wide on my back, anchoring me to him, he hugged me so damn tight.
“You need to cut yourself a break, sweetheart. You’re hurting and keeping hold of everything. You’re allowed to feel guilt, but you’re also allowed to not feel guilty. Easier said than done, I know.”
I sniffed. “I know that’s what he would want, but I just miss him so much. We had our entire life planned out, but now I’m facing it alone.”
Banks lifted his head and looked up at me with the most wretched expression I’d seen to date. “You’re not alone, Simone. From where I’m standing, you’re surrounded by incredible people ready to support you. We’re all hoping to make a positive impact on your life, even if it’s the smallest one.”
His gaze searched mine, visibly filled with so much more he wanted to say. Eventually, after I palmed my eyes dry for the millionth time, he murmured, “I’m so sorry you lost him, but at the same time I’m incredibly thankful you ended up in Gatlin Falls.”
Banks’s fingers ceased rubbing lazy circles on my lower back, drawing awareness at how close he was and exactly where he was. He smirked and planted his hands on either side of my hips, then gave an almighty kick. It propelled him up, bringing us nose to nose, mouth to mouth, and tempting fate.
“You’re an incredible woman, Simone,” he whispered while his eyes bore into mine, delving directly into my soul.
The gentle rocking of the boat momentarily shifted him closer. His thighs pressed firmer between mine, creating a wash of heated weight flooding my core. Banks’s tongue darted over his lower lip as his eyes danced across my mouth. We didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink and didn’t dare move a muscle as the lure between us intensified.
It would have been easy to give into temptation, and I couldn’t say for sure if I would have resisted. In the end, Banks gave me no choice. After one last wistful stare at my mouth, he pushed off the boat and fell backward into the lake with a large splash of water.
I pressed a hand to my heaving chest, dismayed and shocked at how close I’d come to kissing him... Scarier yet—wanting to kiss him.
He surfaced a few yards out with a head-flick to rid the water from his hair, then ducked his mouth and nose under the water and eyed me from the waterline. His eyes crinkled like he was grinning underwater, and he ducked under as soon as I flicked water at him. When he popped up between my legs again, I hastily pushed back, only to scream when he hauled himself onto the boat and stood over me, purposely dripping water onto my dry clothes.
I shoved at his thighs and got him off balance, though my whoop of triumph became a scream of terror when he grabbed my wrist to keep himself on the boat.
“Oh my god, let go. You’re going to drag me in,” I exclaimed through a laugh.
A wicked grin erupted on his face.
“Banks, don’t you dare!”
He tugged a little. “Dare what?”
“Pull me in!”
“Pull you in? Okay!”
My curse cut off as I entered the water fully clothed and as ungraceful as a pregnant sea lion trying to swim on marbles. I was slapping at Banks before we surfaced, then swam back to the boat in a panic over things lurking in the deep.
“You psychopath!” I yelled.
“Sorry, I couldn’t get my balance.”
“Balance my ass!”
A hand landed on my ass and helped boost me onto the back of the boat. I was too pissed to thank him outwardly, instead settled for lightly stomping on his fingers when he set them on the backboard.
He launched himself up and sat laughing his ass off while I stood dripping.
“There are some towels and blankets up front, babe. Do you mind tossing me one too?”
“You’d be lucky if I tossed you a life ring in a shark-infested moat,” I sassed.
It set him off again, and I couldn’t help but secretly smile as soon as I turned my back. Even my heart did a little skip. After revealing the part of my past that broke me, Banks still accepted me for who I was... shattered pieces and all.
