down, I was able to move on. I was able to forget it. It was so easy to forget everything when I was wrapped in Tristan’s arms.
The following week, I threw my purse in my car and wrapped myself around my beautiful boyfriend. I twisted my fingers in his golden-streaked hair and tried to reassure him with my lips that I would be back just as soon as the hearing was over. He’d grown increasingly anxious the week leading up to this moment, but he had to know he had nothing to fear.
“I’ll see you in a few days.” I traced the sharp angle of his jaw with the pad of my thumb. “Behave yourself.”
“Always.” He crooked a grin at me. “Charlie and I have male bonding to do.”
“Don’t forget Diva,” I pouted.
“She’ll keep us in line.”
“I’m sure she will.” I patted his cheek and then pressed my lips back to his. I didn’t want to leave him here. A huge part of my heart wanted to haul him along with me, his hand wrapped in mine every step of this horrific process, but I had to prove to myself that I could tackle this on my own. I didn’t need anyone; I was determined to come face to face with my past and conquer it.
“I love you, Georgia,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” I whispered as we pulled apart, our arms stretched and hands locked, before they finally dropped to our sides and I crawled into the front seat of my car and backed down the driveway of our little home.
Dressed in a power suit and black patent heels to give myself a boost of confidence, I pulled into a parking spot outside the Department of Corrections building and spotted a familiar face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled as I stepped out of my car. “What are you doing here?” I glared as Kyle stepped up to me.
“I’m here for you,” he answered as he pulled me into an awkward hug.
“How did you know this was happening today?” I pulled away from him.
“You got a letter at the apartment. I had it forwarded, didn’t you notice it said so on the envelope?”
“I guess not,” I mumbled. My mind had gone on meltdown as soon as I’d seen the return address; nothing else had registered.
“I don’t need you here.” I instantly felt terrible for pushing Tristan away from today, insisting I do it myself, and yet here stood Kyle. It would tear Tristan up if he knew.
“Of course you do. You need someone, and since it looks like you’re solo . . .” He trailed off with an arched eyebrow.
“Tristan wanted to come. I told him he couldn’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re not alone for this.” He locked my hand in his own.
“I can handle this, Kyle.” I jerked my hand away from him. “I’ve got to get in there,” I mumbled as I took long strides away from him.
“I’m not letting you go in there alone, Georgia. No matter what you think, you need someone, and I’m just glad I made the decision I did to come today, considering you’ve been left alone by the person who you think cares so much about you.”
“He respects me,” I mumbled as I kept walking, Kyle hustling behind me. I hurried up the few steps and opened the door of the brick building. We made our way through security before stepping up to the receptionist’s desk.
“I’m here for a parole hearing.” I passed the letter I’d received through the window. The receptionist scanned the letter and then looked up at me and over to Kyle.
“I’m her lawyer.” He pressed a hand to the small of my back. I shot him a glare as a shiver ran down my spine from his touch. She finally nodded before sending another guard out to escort us to the parole board meeting room.
Thirty minutes later, the hearing was over. I’d read my letter, teared up repeatedly, before breaking down completely. My shoulders were hunched and trembling as Kyle rubbed my back and whispered in my ear that it was going to be okay. Looks of sympathy spread across the parole board's faces as they watched me pour my heart out to them. Perfect strangers who held the stability of my future in their hands. Emotions seeped through me because it felt like my parents' memory, the tragic way they'd ended, how the world would perceive their story, was held in the hands of these half a dozen strangers. As we stepped out of the room, we passed a middle-aged woman with someone who looked to be her son. He looked no more than eighteen years old and was a perfect image of his father, the man that had taken my parents’ lives and had set me on a path full of pain. I paused for a moment when I looked into the woman’s eyes. She was teary and worn, as if she’d lived a hard life. I’m sure she had, and I felt badly for her. I felt an odd sense of kinship with her. Our lives had both been vaulted down a painful path through no fault of our own. The men who'd entered my house that night had taken things from both of us, things we could never get back.
I swallowed back another sob as Kyle wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him.
We reached the open air of the parking lot and I sucked in deep breaths.
“You okay?” He rubbed my back.
“I’m fine. I’m glad this is behind me. My part of it, anyway.” We wouldn’t know the parole board's decision for up to a month and even then, I would be notified by letter.
“Do you want to get something to eat?” He continued to soothe me, rubbing my back, up my neck, down to the hollow of my spine, nearly to the top of my ass.
“Look, Kyle, I’m glad you were here. It was sweet of you. But none of this is a good idea. Us being together; it’s just not good,” I murmured. I had another night reserved at the hotel, but all I could think about was getting home to Tristan and our little slice of heaven on the beach.
“Is that your opinion or his?” His eyes flashed in anger.
“Mine,” I said firmly as I opened my car door.
“Look, Georgia. We’ve got a lot of history. Let me just take you out for something to eat. I wouldn't want you driving while you’re so upset anyway. I already have reservations.”
“Kyle,” I groaned.
“Come on. I’ll drive and bring you back to your car when we're done.”
I heaved a big sigh before caving. “Fine,” I murmured as I crawled into his black Audi. I knew Tristan wouldn't approve, but Kyle and I had grown up together, we had so much history, I wanted some sense of closure between us. I hated that the last time I'd seen him fists had been thrown.
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the Italian bistro we used to frequent. It was small, the lights were dim, the setting intimate and romantic.
“Really, Kyle?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Can’t blame me for trying.” He passed me a sheepish grin.
“I can, actually. I’m with someone and I love him.”
“Okay. It’s just lunch, though.” He patted my knee like a big brother would. He was all over the place today and consequently had me unsure of whether I was coming or going.
Kyle escorted me into the restaurant by the small of my back before we sat down in a private corner. The hum of conversation was low around us. Kyle placed our orders. He remembered my favorites, and ordered a bottle of wine. This was all becoming very date-like and making my stomach twist with anxiety.
“Look, Georgia, I know you’re happy. You seem happy—happy as I’ve ever seen you, and I know it wasn’t me that did that. I haven’t put that smile on your face in years, and I feel terrible about that.” Kyle sipped his wine as his deep chocolate brown eyes bore into mine.
I took a drink and let the liquid ease down my throat, tingle out across my shoulders, and relax my whole
