The Throne Of Lies: An Underestimated Novel Book 7 by Candice Wright

Author:Candice Wright [Wright, Candice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Five

Saylor

We sit beside each other on the deck, much like Tate and I did only hours before. For as close as we are, there may as well be a chasm between us.

The silence is heavy, weighed down by our collective grief, our sorrow stealing our voices. There is nothing I can say to make it better, no magic words to heal the blow to his heart. If anything, my pain just feeds his and vice versa.

“Mama?”

I turn at the sound of Nayvee’s voice as she stands in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

When she looks up and sees Tag, her eyes light up. “Uncle Tag!” she yells before throwing herself at him.

Tag wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly as he looks at me over his shoulder.

“Where’s Aunt Presley?” she asks innocently, her face buried against his throat, so she misses the pain her words cause.

His eyes hold mine, his expression ravaged as he fights back tears. I move closer and wrap my arms around them both, holding him tight when I feel his breathing turn ragged against my shoulder and tears dampen my skin.

After a few minutes, he pulls back, his cheeks wet, but he pulls himself together for Nayvee’s sake. “I’m going to lie down for a little while, jellybean. I’ve got a headache.”

She crawls from Tag’s lap into mine, her thumb sliding into her mouth, a sign that she feels the tension in the air. She only sucks her thumb these days when she’s sick or in need of comfort.

“Go get some rest. I’ll talk to Nayvee.”

He stands up and presses a kiss on my forehead before kissing Nayvee’s temple.

“You can use my room if you want,” I offer, knowing the room P was using will still smell like her. Her luggage will be sitting on the bed, ready because she was supposed to be flying home today.

He doesn’t reply. He offers me a sad smile before turning and walking away. I know he’ll climb into Presley’s bed so he can feel closer to her. He’ll breathe her in even though it will kill him. I can’t fault him for it because I know one day her scent will be gone. Every aspect of her that lingers will hurt, a reminder of what we’ve lost. And I fear that when it all fades, it will leave a hollowed-out hole that can’t ever be filled. I’d rather have the gut-wrenching pain than the emptiness.

“Buttercup, can you look at Mommy for a minute?”

She lifts her head and stares at me as I brace myself.

“I need to talk to you about Aunt Presley.”

“Okay. Did she go out for donuts?”

I run my hand over her tangled hair. “No, baby,” I whisper, fighting to keep my voice steady. “She got hurt yesterday at the carnival.”

“She’s going to be okay, though, right?”

I’d rather carve out my own heart than cause her a second of pain, but I can’t shield her from this. “No, buttercup, she’s not.”

Her lip wobbles as she looks at me, but I push on.

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