Unlike the worm, I didn’t think I had the heart to survive the split.

Chapter 65

It was half past noon, and I was already a fifth of whiskey deep. Wearing my white nightdress, I stood in the living room staring out into the street. It was still and empty; most people had left for work hours ago. Swaying, I lifted the bottle to my lips, tossing my head back to get the last few drops from the bottom.

A blur of movement caught my eye. I tried to focus as a man stopped in front of our house to peek in the window before hustling along. I recognized him as the old, lanky man from the park. The bottle slipped from my hand, fell to the floor, and shattered. I ran to the door and flung it open.

“Hey,” I shouted as the man hobbled down the street.

He kept walking, eyes forward.

“You. Stop.” I careened down the sidewalk barefoot after him. “Why’re you following me?”

I ran full speed toward him. The lanky man rounded a corner, and just as I rounded it after him, I collided with another man. He caught me by the arms as I tried to regain my footing.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, clutching me firmly. My eyes refused to focus; he was foggy and lineless. I squinted him into view, making out a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

“Grace?”

“James?” I straightened up, trying to speak without slurring my words. I hadn’t seen him since I’d left home.

“Are you okay?” His eyes widened with concern as they moved to my bare feet. He was still holding me and I wanted to collapse into his arms.

“Yeah. Fine.” I smiled, exposing my teeth, feeling the tenseness of a headache coming on. “Cat got out. I was…chasing her.”

James’s face softened. “Do you want me to help you find her?”

“No.” I glanced up and down the road. “She’ll come back.” I dipped forward, giggled, and began singing. “Cat came back the very next day. The cat came back, we thought she was a goner.”

He was staring at my face. I wasn’t wearing any lipstick; my lips felt dry and dehydrated. My hair was unbrushed, curly and untamed.

“My grandmother used to sing that.” James nodded, seemingly amused. “How the hell are you? I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yeah, been a while.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Good. Okay. Been better.” I smoothed my nightgown. “Obviously.”

He laughed. It sounded childlike and nostalgic, but it had deepened with age.

“Give me a hug.” I stretched out my arms.

James enveloped me. His arms were hard and ridged with muscles, and he smelled of Burberry cologne. I inhaled him deeply, feeling myself lighten.

“Coffee?” I stepped backward, letting my arms drop. “I live…” I pointed up the street, then turned, pointing in the other direction. “…there.” I stumbled, and he reached out and caught me again.

“Uh, you sure you’re okay, Grace?”