Page 15 of Older

And then a flicker of something like grave disappointment settled in his gaze. Maybe even a dash of betrayal. He went ashen, almost sickly-looking.

I’d lied to him.

He knew I’d lied to him.

He’d been a heartbeat away from taking home a seventeen-year-old girl. A girl who was probably his daughter’s age.

I stood there, a few feet away from Reed, Marnie’s tirade battering the wall I’d thrown up around me to keep everything out but him. Her words were a fog. Mindless drivel. Attention fixed on the man across the room, I mouthed, “I’m sorry,” my shoulders slackening with defeat and heartache.

Reed’s dark eyebrows furrowed as he scrubbed a hand through his hair, his throat bobbing while our eyes continued to hold.

Then, jaw ticking, he dropped his gaze, slowly turned, and disappeared out through the front door, slamming it behind him.

I flinched.

He’d left without a backward glance.

Without a goodbye.

I stood rooted in place, even though every part of me wanted to run after him, apologize, and beg him to wait for me.

After all…

I would only be getting older.

CHAPTER 3

December, 1995

I tugged the hat over my ears and zipped my winter coat all the way up to my chin as I raced through the parking lot, dodging ice patches and hurried shoppers.

I hated Christmas Eve.

It was never the warm, magical snow globe of wintry dreams that most people associated with the holiday. Christmas was nothing but a reminder of everything I lacked. Everything I’d never experience.

But this year, I wanted to change that.

I was desperate to sprinkle a little magic into my life.

Armed with a generous tip from my animal shelter supervisor, I kept my head down as I veered toward the grocery store entrance, hoping to gather enough ingredients for a feast with the fifty-dollar bill crumpled in my coat pocket.

Tara had invited me over for dinner tonight, and the notion was appealing. I’d met her in the springtime at a nearby park that I often visited to clear my mind and escape the violence between my four walls. She lived in my neighborhood and went to my school but was one year behind me. A junior to my senior.

I’d spent a lot of the past week at her house catching up on late homework assignments while we gossiped about the winter break adventures I’d never be allowed to fully enjoy.

I smiled anyway.

It was hard not to smile when I was at Tara’s house. Her mom smelled like spiced cake and her golden retriever never left my side, making me feel like I was part of the family.

Like I was a part of something, period.

In the living room, their Christmas tree glittered with multicolored bulbs and tinsel, while hand-wrapped gifts were stacked underneath the pine-fresh needles.

It was a wonderland; a home life I craved.

But I was determined to turn my own home life into something more than drunken outbursts, belt lashings, and cruel words. Father had smacked me hard enough to rattle my teeth after I’d gotten home late from Tara’s house the other night. Now a bruise painted my jaw in hues of violet and blue, and I’d had to piece together a lie to tell people when they gasped at the colors on my face.

I fell down the stairs.