Chapter 5

Kimber collapsed into her front, panting. I followed her down, my heart racing, and settled on her back, her sexy ass pressed to my groin. Both perspiring, I slowly rolled off her with a groan.

“You’re going to kill me one day.”

She laughed quietly. “That’s not possible.”

Turning her head, she looked at me, her intense emerald eyes peeking out through mussed, rich mahogany hair. Damn she was gorgeous.

Two months ago she’d started at U of T. She had a fall fashion show scheduled for late October in Italy. She was busy.

I brushed her hair back. She smiled, so beautiful. “Marry me,” I asked again, now for the fifth time.

“No.”

“Then tell me why not. We’re happy. We love each other.”

“You’re not ready.”

Frustrated, I said, “Enough with the not ready, honey. Tell me why!”

She smiled softly, reached out and caressed my jaw. “When you can go into Addison’s room, then you’ll be ready.”

As much as it hurt to hear it, the truth hurt even more. Kimber was right. I’d avoided Addison’s bedroom, forever closed, my way of avoiding painful memories, shut away in a corner of my mind.

I was happy, yet the ghost of her hovered. While Kimber slept, I wrestled with fear. Opening her bedroom would open memories I had pushed down. I’d never faced the loss, accepted, the prospect terrifying me. I could never forgive myself.

Maybe Kimber was right. Maybe she was far, far more insightful than I gave her credit for.

I slept restlessly, tossing and turning so much Kimber complained. She was bright and energetic in the morning, giving me smiles and a kiss before heading off to class.

I moped. I wandered the house at loose ends, the closed door down the hall threatening me; something I feared. Twice I approached it and turned away.

Mid afternoon, I sipped scotch - something I never did at that hour - and tried to steel myself.

The door was an impossible barrier. I stood in front of it, hand on the handle. Taking a deep breath, I opened it.

Nothing had changed. Her flower-print bed cover was half off her bed, the sheets askew, as if she’d just gotten up this morning. A small overnight case rested on the bed. School books were spread over a messy desk. The room smelled musty. Her sneakers were lying on the floor, her closet door partially open, her clothes still hanging. A bookshelf had a haphazard collection of books on it.

My heart thumped. One step. One step and I’d be in her room. I took the step and didn’t die.

Moving to her bed, I sat on the edge and spent time looking around. She was everywhere. I waited for my heart to calm.

Finally, I reached for her suitcase and opened it. Her clothes hurt me. I fingered them one by one, my memory crystal clear; the Tee she’d worn to the hospital, the jeans, her small cotton bra. And at the bottom, her diary.

I fingered it and looked away. On the bookshelf, I noticed her collection of diaries. Getting up, I took all of them - seven, and sat on the bed again.

They had a mix of floral covers with stickers, cartoon covers, and plain blue covers. I picked up the cartoon one, opened it and flipped through it. A purple pen used to scribble.

Mommy bought me a new dress. It is pink and perple and petty

I painted a yellow flower for mommy and she said it was the best flower

Closing it, I picked up another.

Best day ever. Mom took me on every ride at Wonderland. Daddy had to work and was sorry.

Julia told me she hates me. I hate her. She lied about it

Julia and me had so much fun. Kimber yelled at us she did not kiss Ricky. Even if she didnt, it was funny.

I put it aside and picked up another, flipping through pages.