The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) (15 page)

“Stephanie died because a blood vessel in her brain burst,” Natalie said. At least, she was pretty sure that was what Guy had explained. “Nothing you did caused her death. You didn’t fail her. If anything, she failed you.”

Vance’s eyes snapped up to hers, angry, but at the same time relieved as well. Maybe it was wrong of Natalie to say something unkind about Stephanie now that she was gone, but it was true. Steph had become a friend, one Natalie missed more than she would have expected to. Her joyful personality and kindness during their sessions had been like a balm for Natalie. She was a good person and Natalie wasn’t trying to tear her down, but what she had done to Vance was not kind in any way and it was tearing him apart.

“I should have stayed with her,” Vance said as tears flooded his eyes but didn’t fall.

Sighing, Natalie shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. It wouldn’t have changed what happened. Staying wouldn’t have erased the pain and anger you were dealing with that night, nothing could have, and there’s a good chance the fighting would have only escalated if you had stayed and the memory would be even more painful.”

She wasn’t sure anything would ever erase Vance’s pain and guilt, to be perfectly honest. Her own wounds were so deep she didn’t think they could ever heal, and she had no idea how Vance was ever going to get over losing his girlfriend and two children he would never have the chance to know.

“You can’t go back,” Natalie said, “nobody can. Maybe you wish you had stayed. Maybe Stephanie wished she hadn’t done what she did. Maybe I…we all make choices that haunt us, but we can’t rewind and remake them hoping for a better outcome. Punishing yourself the way you are, it would break Steph’s heart to see you like this.”

Vance didn’t get a chance to answer. The intruding waitress popped back up at their table with their meals bagged and ready to go. Natalie fished in her purse for her card and handed it over before she had a chance to leave. She wasn’t quite sure what had finally roused Vance from his apartment, but this was the last place he needed to be. The pair waited in silence as the waitress dashed off to run Natalie’s card. By the time she came back, Vance’s eyes were barely open and his mood was darker than ever.

The waitress handed Natalie’s card back to her and leaned in close. “That guy’s not driving anywhere, right?”

“Definitely not.”

The waitress nodded at the wisdom of that choice and said a quick goodbye. Natalie turned her attention back to Vance, hoping he’d be able to get himself to the car without help. “Are you ready?”

He didn’t look at her, just shrugged noncommittally. When Natalie stood, though, he followed her example and then shuffled out of the café behind her. Even though traffic was light and there weren’t nearly as many people on the streets as there had been when she’d arrived, anxiety gripped her as she looked at her car across the street. The last thing anyone needed was Vance getting hit by a car because he was too out of it to pay attention to oncoming traffic.

Moving as close to him as she could handle, Natalie started talking as she urged him off the sidewalk. She babbled about her morning, her boss remembering Vance and sending his condolences, the lady she’d seen get her blouse caught in the copier from her office window, anything and everything to keep Vance from blanking out on her. It was the most talking she had done at once in, well, ever. Not that Vance seemed to notice.

It didn’t matter, because they got across the street and Vance managed to sit himself in the passenger’s seat without needing any help. Although, when Natalie sat down in her own seat and saw that Vance hadn’t buckled himself in, she bit her lip. There was no way she could do it for him. It was just too close. Being in the car with him was hard enough. Panic sprang up and tried to choke her just thinking about putting her hand that physically close to him. She had to close her eyes to avoid thinking about it too hard.

“Can you…please, can you put your seatbelt on?” she begged. He didn’t respond and her heart rate began edging upward. “I don’t think I can help you. Please, Vance.”

Maybe it was the pleading in her voice, or her erratic breathing, but something finally got to him and he pulled his belt across his lap to click it in place. Once her heart resumed its normal pace, Natalie was tempted to let the ride go in silence, but she feared he’d fall asleep if she didn’t keep talking and then she’d really be in trouble. So, she chattered about Gypsy and anything else she could possibly think of the whole ride to his apartment. The only interruptions were when Vance told her to turn one way or the other. It was weird, but good in a strange sort of way.

She didn’t stop talking until they reached Vance’s apartment door and he slipped the key into the lock. That’s when it finally hit her. It was like something sucked all the air out of her body and nothing she could do would bring it back. Her hands snapped up to cover her nose and mouth, but it had happened too fast and she was carrying the food. She felt herself sliding down the wall as her vision went black around the edges. She hadn’t fainted in a long time, but she feared her streak of control was about to end.

Vance’s face appeared directly in front of her, his eyes and expression clearer than they had been all afternoon. “Natalie, breathe, you can do this.” He frowned, his focus slipping. “I mean, you don’t have to come in, I’ll be fine, but you don’t want to pass out in the hallway. It’ll mean I’ll have to pick you up and take you inside until you recover.”

That almost made things worse. Her breathing jumped up again, but the sense in what he said sunk in a few seconds later and gave her back a smidgen of willpower. Slowly, she forced herself to calm down and breathe a little slower. It was a good five minutes before she was able to pick herself back up off the ground. She wasn’t sure where the food had gone.

“Are you okay?” Vance asked. Not trusting herself to speak, she just nodded. Vance sighed. “You can go back to work, really. I’m fine.”

Natalie swallowed the last of her panic and dug deep for the strength she needed to get through the rest of the afternoon. “You’re not fine, and I took the afternoon off. Plus, you have my lunch.”

Glancing down at the takeout bag in his hand, Vance frowned. Sure, Natalie had just embarrassed herself right in front of him, but he had been the one to call her. He didn’t want her to leave and Natalie knew it. So she waited him out until he finally folded to his desire not to be alone. “Fine,” he mumbled before pushing the door open and walking through.

Natalie took a deep breath then stepped gingerly across the threshold like it might open up and send her tumbling down to Hell if she touched it with too much pressure. She was actually a tiny bit surprised that it didn’t. It took her a few seconds to take another step and clear the door. Tempted to leave it open so she had an easy escape route, Natalie reminded herself of how exhausted Vance was and that he’d likely be asleep soon after eating.

She could do this. Maybe. Hopefully. No, she had to.
Suck it up and be brave
, she chided herself. She’d never been outgoing or particularly daring, but once upon a time she had been strong. It was hard to remember what that felt like. Thinking about it required dredging up memories of her early life and everything her parents had put her through. That was just as dangerous as letting someone touch her, but if anyone was worth reliving the pain of her childhood, it was Vance.

For a brief moment, she let herself go back to the many times she stood in front of her father and let him try to beat her down. It was never physical, but it left scars all the same. She stood there so many times and let him berate and belittle her for some imagined wrong, taking it in silence. Maybe that wouldn’t seem like strength to anyone else. She was sure some people would call her a coward for not standing up to him. She’d thought about it many times, but she knew what it would cost and she also knew she was strong enough to take it and survive. That’s how it was before the end, anyway.

Those last few weeks before she ran away, those memories she did
not
allow to surface. Those weren’t moments of strength for her and they wouldn’t help her now. Instead, she focused on every horrible thing her parents had ever said or done to her, how she had withstood it all and held onto her dream of escaping their influence. If she could refuse to break under their attacks for almost eighteen years, she could sit in Vance’s living room and eat a sandwich.

It seemed like an eternity before she finally stepped away from the door and carefully made her way to the living room. Vance didn’t say a word until she was sitting in the armchair catty-corner to the couch he was on. “I’m proud of you.”

She was still holding a very delicate balance between running in terror and staying glued to her seat, but warmth at his praise flooded through her. “Thank you for setting everything out,” she said as she reached for her sandwich, which now resided on a ceramic plate.

Vance shrugged and picked up his own plate, though he stared at it rather than eating. She knew he wasn’t hungry. Taking care of himself and living didn’t seem like options he even wanted in that moment. There was a time when Natalie experienced those same feelings. She had been broken, beyond repair, she’d believed at the time. It wasn’t the death of someone she loved, but her own death. The death of the girl she had been, of the one she had one day hoped to become.

Alone in every possible way, Natalie had given up. Some instinct for self-preservation and the kindness of a random stranger woke her basest need for food. It had been enough to make her realize she didn’t want to die lying on the ground sheltered only by the overpass she’d been sleeping under. Strange that something so small could have made the difference. It had been a beginning, something to kick-start her. She knew what it felt like to be alone, and she refused to let Vance face putting his life back together without help.

By the time she finished her lunch, Vance had managed to eat half of his and sat staring at nothing. He had called wanting to talk, but it was obvious he was too emotionally spent to manage it. He needed some real rest. “Vance, would you like to go lie down for a while? I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

He nodded and started to lie down on the couch.

“You might be more comfortable in bed…”

“No,” Vance growled. “I’m not going in there.”

Natalie closed her eyes and cursed her stupidity. Of course he didn’t want to sleep where Stephanie had died. He probably hadn’t been in there since the coroner took her body away. “Why don’t I just get you a blanket, then,” she said quietly.

Without responding, he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. It broke her heart to see him like that, like a child too sick to manage anything more. Having no idea where he kept his spare blankets, it took her a while and a little snooping through various cupboards and closets before she found one. He was already asleep by the time she laid it over him.

Her original plan had been to clean while he slept, and she still planned to do that since it was desperately needed, but her goal had expanded. Natalie guessed that even though Vance seemed to have showered before going to the café, it was the first time in a while. His mismatched appearance made sense after his refusal to go into his room. He’d put on whatever he’d been able to find around the apartment.

Biting her lip, Natalie stood in front of Vance’s bedroom door an hour later once the general mess of his apartment had been dealt with. He couldn’t keep living on the couch, wearing only what was left in the dryer. Most of the clothes were Stephanie’s, anyway. At some point he’d have to go back into his bedroom, but facing it now was simply more than he could handle. She knew he might be angry at her for doing it, but it was the only thing she could think of to help him.

Opening the door, she stepped into the room and looked around. The bed was disheveled, and there were clothes on the floor in a few places, but overall it was fairly clean. One glance to the bathroom showed it to be a little more disorganized. The real problem, she guessed, was the pregnancy test still lying on the floor. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids as she pictured Vance walking back in and seeing it. Why hadn’t anyone picked it up?

Stepping around the test, Natalie open the doors of the cabinet under the sink and shuffled through cleaning supplies until she found gloves and disinfecting wipes. She donned the gloves and picked up the test, but hesitated before throwing it in the trash. Was that the right thing to do? It seemed strange to store it somewhere, but what if he wasn’t ready to toss it away? Unsure of what to do, she decided to put the decision off for the time being and instead wiped it down and sealed it in a plastic baggie. She would ask Vance when he was more himself.

After setting the test aside, Natalie really got to work. The entire bathroom was spotless, the bathroom floor scrubbed clean of mascara stains from Stephanie’s crying, and all hints of that night removed. She even cleaned out the hair and makeup supplies and anything that didn’t seem to belong to Vance. It wasn’t her place to throw anything away, but she knew Vance wouldn’t be able to set foot in the room with so many reminders of what had happened. Carefully, she packed everything up in boxes found in Vance’s office and stacked the boxes in front of his bookshelves for him to sort through later.

She ran out of boxes long before she made it through all of Stephanie’s clothes and shoes. Dress bags served as an alternative as she zipped as many blouses and dresses as she could into each bag and laid them all reverently atop the boxes. Once Steph’s clothes and shoes were stored in the other room, she set to work on the bed.