was as if they were made of sand, slipping easily through my fingers.
She eyed me carefully. “How are you holding up?”
I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m honestly not sure.” Raw pain seemed to infiltrate every part of me, punctuated by brief punches of equally excruciating joy. Harriet had loved me enough to leave me her home, the most precious thing in her possession. But she wasn’t here to enjoy it with me. “I didn’t know feeling loved could hurt this much.”
Bell grabbed my blanket-covered foot, squeezing it. “I know this might not be a comfort, but the depth of the pain is a measure of how deeply you loved each other. How much you impacted each other’s lives.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s going to take a long time to heal. And you’re going to walk with a limp while you’re doing it. But you will get through this.”
I met Bell’s eyes—so much wisdom and understanding and empathy swirled in them. She knew. She was a part of the club that no one joined voluntarily. The one that meant you’d lost someone who was a part of your soul. “The world feels fuzzy. Like I’ve been on one of those tilt-a-whirls that Caelyn made us go on at the fair for too long.”
“It’s shock. It’ll pass. And you’ll start to feel steady on your feet again. I promise.”
I nodded. The action was a bit wooden, but I knew Bell was right. I’d been through worse and had made it to the other side. And those trials had only made me stronger, tougher. “You’re right. I will.”
Bell dropped my foot and gave it a smack. “Damn straight. Now…why didn’t you call me when you got out of your meeting with Crosby?”
I glanced out the side windows of my guest cottage, the ones that looked out over the waves that crashed onto the shore. “I just needed to sort out my head on my own.” I loved Bell and Caelyn, knew they’d be here for me whenever they could, but they were also building their own lives and families. I didn’t want to be a burden to them. I needed to stand on my own two feet. To prove to myself that I could. But I didn’t know how to explain that to Bell without hurting her feelings.
“I get needing time to figure out what you’re feeling, but don’t shut us out. Caelyn and I are your family. We always will be. You can lean on us.”
Emotions, thick and swirling, gathered at the back of my throat. I knew that Bell believed that in her heart. But soon, she and Ford would be getting married, having babies. I wouldn’t be her priority anymore, and that’s how it should be. “I love you too, Bell.”
Her eyes narrowed on me. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I smiled. She knew me too well. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to suffer through having you around.”
Bell picked up one of the throw pillows and smacked me with it. “You should be honored that I’d deign to grace you with my presence.”
I held up both hands. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”
“That’s better.” She studied me for a moment. “Has Henry been by to check on you?”
I winced. He’d called after hearing of Harriet’s passing, wondering why I hadn’t let him know what had happened. He sent flowers, wanted to come and see me. “I told him I needed some space. That we should stop seeing each other, at least for right now.”
Bell stilled. “You’re pushing everyone away.”
“I’m not. But I’m not like you and Caelyn. You are fine sharing your emotions with the world. That’ll never be me.” My pain would always be a private thing. Visions of my mother drunk, crying and yelling outside The Gables about how Harriet had stolen her child flashed in my mind. I would never be that.
Bell squeezed my blanket-covered ankle. “You’re allowed to process however you need to. Just don’t hide from the people who love you.”
“I won’t. I promise.” I did my best to force a smile. “But if you’re going to stick around, then the least you can do is feed me.”
Bell grinned. “Firehouse Pizza?” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. “I know it’s not your junk food day, but come on, today has thrown you for a loop. I think you’ve earned some pineapple and pepperoni.”
“You’ve got a point.” I’d just add an extra two miles to my