Accidentally Family by Sasha Summers

Author:Sasha Summers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Clean & Wholesome Romance;Contemporary American Fiction;Contemporary Women's Fiction;Coming of Age Fiction;Friendship Fiction;Small Town & Rural Fiction;Women's Fiction;Women's Literary Fiction;Sasha Summers;Entangled Publishing;Mass Market Paperback Romance;Contemporary Romance;Blended Family Fiction;Clean Romance;Second Chance Romance;Later in Life Romance;Single Title Romance;Stand Alone Romance;Amara;Sweet Romance;Heartfelt Romance;Family;Best friend to lovers romance;unexpected love;love right under your nose;car crash;heartwarming
Published: 2020-03-23T03:54:07+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Graham held the embroidered throw pillow on his lap, his fingers running along the piped edge over and over. The simple repetitive act was oddly soothing. Not enough to shake the sense of impending doom that kicked in once he’d pried open Diana’s bedroom door. Just soothing enough to keep him from yelling. Or throwing things. Or sobbing uncontrollably. None of those things would help, and he needed help, desperately.

Adelaide waited, pen poised, glancing back and forth between them. The room seemed smaller than when they’d arrived. The couch creaked loudly every time he shifted. He sat, rigid, fingers worrying the stupid pillow. Only the soft recording of rhythmic waves and the regular tick of the second hand of the wall clock broke the silence.

“Diana?” Adelaide’s voice was neutral.

Diana continued to peel the black polish from her nails, sweeping the bits from her shredded tights onto the polished concrete floor.

She had her nail polish. He had the stupid pillow. Neither of them was talking but they both had so much to say.

“After your father’s call this morning, I thought you might want to talk,” Adelaide prompted. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to discuss?”

Diana didn’t look up or say a word—just kept picking away. He shoved the pillow between his side and the arm of the love seat, pressing his hands flat against his thighs.

“He mentioned you spent the night away from home?” Adelaide continued.

Diana’s left hand was now polish-free, so she set to work on her right hand.

“We’re both concerned about that. Where did you go, Diana? Were you safe?”

Worried, yes. And pissed as hell. Last night had been the worst of his life. Nothing compared to not knowing where she was or what might be happening to her. Did she need help? Was she hurt? Hurting herself? Lost? Alone? Every nightmare scenario imaginable played through his mind until he was frantic.

But beyond the worry and pain and helplessness, he was furious. So furious he’d put his fist through the drywall. After driving the streets of Pecan Valley most of the night, he’d prayed he’d come home and find her waiting. Instead, he’d come home to an empty house. The handful of her friends he knew of had no idea where she was, or that was what they told him. When he’d exhausted all of his options, he’d called the police, his bloodied fist submerged in a sink full of ice, when she’d walked in the front door.

She hadn’t stopped, even when he’d called to her. She’d headed up the stairs and into her bathroom—no door slamming or screaming, tears or hostility. Her silence had broken him. While she was in the shower, he slumped over in relief—doing his best not to cry like a baby.

She still hadn’t said a word. And he’d been so uncertain of what to do next, he’d called for backup. He’d expected her to push back when he told her they were going to see Adelaide. She hadn’t. The drive had been as silent as the session so far.

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