you to feel this way. You aren’t alone in this.”
He pulled me close into his arms, warmth seeping from his body. Gathering me closer, he whispered, “My biggest regret was not being there for you. For allowing you to slip into the darkness. When you needed me, I wasn’t there and I didn’t know how to be someone else’s light. I failed you. I should’ve followed you into the dark.”
I leaned into his chest and cried. Cried for us, cried for Mama, cried for Dad and Tracey.
Cried for me.
“I love you, Kara. He loves you, too. And you love Him. Let go of your anger and let Him in.”
His word seemed to untighten and loosen the bands of fear, anger, and sadness across my chest. I exhaled, gasping for air as if I’d broken the surface of choppy water.
A ball of energy warmed me from the inside, percolated through my pores, and ignited my body. It was as if I were coming to life after a long hibernation.
I felt it. I felt Him. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I whispered to myself, realizing that Darren was right.
Darren leaned back, looking in my eyes. His eyes brightened at whatever he saw in me. “Told you.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, overwhelmed by emotion. “You did.”
I moved away and pushed off from the ground, full of boundless energy. “Can you take a few days off for a road trip?”
Darren, still seated, looked up questioningly. “Where to?”
I reached out my hand. “ “St. Louis, Missouri.”
One week later, Darren drove eight hours to Saint Louis. He held my hand the entire time, never letting go. Not even on the fast highways or the winding back roads or in the bumper-to-bumper traffic.
He drove us to the Four Seasons, checked us in, gave me space to study, and then the next day waited in the lobby while I took my exam.
Half an hour later, I floated out of the exam room. I saw him before he saw me.
He paced the floor, glancing at his watch. He held a bunch of flowers behind his back. Before my exam, he’d tried to pin a white heather flower on me for good luck. I had declined because we weren’t allowed to wear anything that could throw off our senses.
“Darren?” I called across the lobby. Some of the patrons and staff at the Four Seasons rolled their eyes. I was buzzed. I was happy. I didn’t care.
He rushed toward me, grabbing my elbows. I swayed a bit.
“Did you…” He looked at my chest, pointing to the small, round pin. “You did it?” A wide smile spread on his face.
“I did it.” I grinned and twirled. “Twenty-five minutes. Six glasses of wine. I’m a mother-effing-master!” I yelled again.
He pulled me to his chest and hugged me tight. “Baby, I am so proud. So damn proud. And your mother would be, too.”
“I know.” I bit my trembling lips.
“Let’s go celebrate. I got us reservations to a really nice restaurant.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the entrance.
“What if I hadn’t passed?”
“I knew you’d pass.”
I stopped walking. Daren looked at me.
“How did you know?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You were so focused and confident. I haven’t seen that look in a while and well…I believed in you because you believed in yourself.”
I looped my arm through his and sighed deep and content. “Guess I’m back in the game.”
“You just pulled a Michael Jordan and left the game for a little bit. But as soon as you returned, you found your way back.”
“Hmm.” I said, making the comparison in my head. Like MJ, I’d lost a parent, switched directions, and then returned back to the game I loved. “Guess I did.”
CHAPTER 19
I Ain’t the Same—Nikki
Sipping my coffee, my latest vice that had replaced booze, I scanned the small crowd dressed in all black.
“So . . .” I waved to the gathering, cup in hand. “Did anyone know about Raina and her daddy? I always assumed the stork dropped her off on her mama’s doorstep.”
Sienna shook her head. “No idea. Didn’t know about her brother, either.” She bit her lips and her eyes watered. Knowing Sienna, she was upset that she hadn’t realized her friend was going through hell while we skipped through a field of daisies and forgot about everyone, Kara included.
Kara nodded. “Yes. Raina told me about it.”
I found my head twisting in Kara’s direction like the girl in The Exorcist, with no control over the motion. The guilt I felt for abandoning my friends was