Claimed By The Devil - Joanna Blake Page 0,40

not to make too much noise as I took out some pots and opened the fridge. My eyes bugged out when I saw everything that was in there. The fridge had never been this stuffed. It wasn’t just groceries, either. A lot of the food was already prepped. Veggies washed and cut up. Two roasted chickens. A couple of store-bought pies.

I squinted.

No. At least one of the pies was a quiche. Normally, I loved quiche. It was one of my favorites. I pretty much loved anything that involved eggs or pastry. But I had no desire to eat.

My appetite was long gone, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting Mom to eat. I prayed I could get something together from all this that she could actually stomach. She normally loved food as much as I did. I was tempted to pile a plate high with options, but I knew that would only make her feel guilty and force something down.

I started pulling things out that I knew were easy on her stomach. A small serving of rice. Some plain chicken breast. A side of applesauce.

I heated up the food in the oven in a casserole dish, covering it with a lid so it didn’t get dry. I looked around for something else to do, but there was nothing. I didn’t even have to make iced tea or lemonade. I didn’t need to rush out to the stables to check on the horses. I had nothing to do but stand there and feel.

I knew everyone meant well, but having something to do might have made me feel less helpless in that moment. Distracted me from the unrelenting truth of my mother’s impending death. I slid to the linoleum tiles as the urge to completely melt down came over me.

I was being ungrateful. Didn’t care. Selfish. Didn’t care about that, either. But I shouldn’t be selfish. I couldn’t. Not now. I wasn’t the one who was sick. Mom should be the one who was upset. Instead, she was fine and I was the one who was on the verge of falling completely apart.

“Melissa?”

Nick stood in the doorway, looking worried. I brushed my wet cheeks off and stood. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. In a flash, he crossed the room to stand in front of me.

“I’m fine,” I lied. He didn’t budge. He didn’t reach for me, either. He must have sensed that touching me would shatter me in that moment.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said.

I looked away.

“She’s hurting and I was . . . we were . . .”

“Don’t feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did, Nick. How could I be so selfish?”

“Not selfish. Normal. It was my fault, anyway.”

“No. Not your fault. She’s my mother.”

“And she would want you to have normal moments in the middle of this. You are there for her one hundred percent. No one would ever doubt that.”

“Not one hundred percent, Nick.”

“I should have woken you when the nurse came. But I wanted you to sleep. Dana did too. She said it was important for the caregivers to rest. She will be back tomorrow,” he said calmly. But I could tell he was upset. Everything I was saying was making him feel like this was his fault.

“I’m sorry,” I said lamely. “I’m just being dramatic.”

But it didn’t feel that way. It felt like I was dropping the ball. I was falling for Nick at the worst possible time, and we both knew it. I took Mom’s food up to her a few minutes later, leaving Nick standing there looking lost and alone.

I didn’t see Nick for the rest of the night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nick

She doesn’t want you here.

The words echoed through my mind. Melissa did not want me here. I felt it in my bones. I knew she was just angry with herself for leaving her mother alone. It wasn’t really that she was upset with me. But it felt like a gut punch.

And I couldn’t even blame her for feeling that way.

I had to give her space. As much as I hated it. I needed to let her work through her misplaced guilt on her own. But there was no way in hell I was leaving. I hung with Hendrix for most of the night and then crashed out on the couch for a couple of hours after making sure the girls were asleep.

Now I was making coffee and worrying that the girl I was in love with was