Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 182255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 911(@200wpm)___ 729(@250wpm)___ 608(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 911(@200wpm)___ 729(@250wpm)___ 608(@300wpm)
“We’ll help,” Beck insisted.
“Whatever you need,” she echoed, her chest aching.
“Thank you.” Seth’s smile was ghost-thin as he disappeared into the basement.
He returned with flattened moving boxes and packing tape. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the house before he let out a ragged sigh. Then they began the grim work of dismantling the remnants of Seth’s old life.
In the awful silence, Seth pulled the framed photos from the walls, his hands shaking slightly as he wrapped them in butcher paper. From his home office, he gathered documents: the marriage certificate with slightly yellowed edges, Tristan’s birth certificate with tiny blue footprints stamped at the bottom, along with a taped lock of downy baby hair. Then finally death certificates that made everything horrifically real.
They trekked back to the nursery next, grabbing the teddy bear, the baby blanket from the back of the rocker, and a soft blue onesie that read Baby’s Homecoming that nearly annihilated her newly forced composure.
After that, they filed back to the master bedroom like they were on a death march. Seth plucked Autumn’s wedding ring from the jewelry box on her bathroom counter, then his own band, wrapped in tissue paper, from his dresser.
“I don’t need these anymore,” he said softly, turning the rings between his fingers. “But I can’t throw them away.”
“You shouldn’t,” Heavenly said, her throat tight. “It’s part of your history.”
He merely nodded, as if it took too much energy to say more.
As Seth finished, Heavenly and Beck remained mute, silently supportive shadows following him from room to room in case Seth needed them.
When they finally returned to the living room, Heavenly settled onto the sofa, her eyes aching, her chest hollow. Had Seth felt like this for months? For years?
The guys taped the last of the boxes shut, and the doorbell chimed through the house.
Seth’s shoulders straightened, his jaw setting. “The Realtor.”
Beck and Heavenly stood as Seth led a professional-looking woman in her fifties through the house. Her kind eyes took in the empty walls where photos had hung, the gaps on shelves where keepsakes had been removed.
When their voices faded down the hall, Beck pulled Heavenly into his arms.
“I can barely stand being here,” she whispered brokenly against his chest. “How has he lived with this?”
“I don’t know, but I worry he’s lived with it more than dealt with it.” Beck stroked her back in slow, soothing circles. “It’s like he got his revenge, then mentally locked the past all away and tried to carry on as if the pain didn’t exist. But he can’t heal what he won’t face.”
“I know. I’ve lost people.” Heavenly still mourned her dad, still remembered sharply that day her mother ran out. She even lamented the loss of her childhood home. “But never like this. Never everyone at once.” She tilted her head back to look at Beck. “How did he survive those first days? The first weeks? How did he even want to keep living?”
“I don’t know.” Beck’s eyes were dark with pain. “But we’re going to make damn sure he never has to face anything alone again.”
“I should have been more understanding.” Heavenly’s gut twisted with guilt. “When I pushed him about starting a family—“
“Stop.” Beck pressed a gentle finger against her lips. “I pushed harder than you did. We both fucked up. Now we know. And we’ll do better.”
Footsteps signaled the end of the tour. They drifted back toward the kitchen, where the Realtor handed Seth a handwritten list.
“Just minor repairs,” she was saying in a smooth, practiced tone. “Touch-up paint in the master bedroom, that loose railing on the back deck, the dripping faucet in the hall bath. Nothing major.”
Seth nodded mechanically and skimmed the listing agreement. The pen shook once in his hand before he forced it still and scrawled his signature across the page.
“Excellent.” The Realtor smiled. “I’ll have the sign up by Monday. This is a wonderful neighborhood, and the house is in great condition. I don’t anticipate any trouble finding a buyer.”
“Good.” Seth’s voice was flat. Empty.
After she left, he sagged against the kitchen counter and exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours. “Thank fucking god that’s over.”
Heavenly agreed. The house was haunted—but not by ghosts. It was suffocating under the weight of memories and loss and all the futures that would never be. She hoped desperately that a new family would buy it. Young parents with a baby or toddler who would fill these rooms with noise and mess and life. Who would chase away the shadows and let this place finally rest.
Seth checked his phone. “Uber’s five minutes out. We can head back to the city. Grab dinner. Maybe catch a show.”
“Whatever you’re up for, man,” Beck said.
They returned to the living room and sat close together on the couch, not speaking. There was nothing left to say. But their bodies said everything—Beck’s hand resting on Heavenly’s knee, her fingers woven through Seth’s, the way they leaned into each other like trees whose roots had tangled together underground.