One More Night: A Second Chance Romance (One More Series Book 4)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  One morning, as I was descending the stairs to do just that, I heard my dad talking on the phone, and I froze. I didn’t even care that I was eavesdropping on a conversation he must have meant to be private.

  “…I swear, I don’t know what to do anymore, Jenny. Carol isn’t talking to me. I expected that. But even Stacey…every time we’re in the same room, I open my mouth, and she runs from me like I’m the bad guy.” He let out a tired laugh. “I guess to her I am, though, huh.”

  There was some silence as he listened to whatever Jenny was saying on the other end. I pursed my lips, feeling irritated that he would talk to her when he had barely talking to Mom and me. That was our fault, but still. He’d made his choice about where he would have rather been.

  He sighed. “I think that would be for the best…no, just stay at home. I can deal with looking for the house. It doesn’t have to be too big or too grand, just affordable so we can rent for a few months. Kevin is going to be so uncomfortable…”

  I couldn’t listen anymore. I wasn’t stupid. With what he’d said, I could pretty much infer what he was talking about. Dad was moving out, and he was going to get a place where he would stay with that woman.

  And Kevin, my mind added helpfully. Fuck!

  He’d finally come home. He’d broken Mom down, and she wasn’t trying to send him away anymore, and he…was going to leave anyway?

  Then why the fuck did you bother to come back! Fucking bastard!

  Feeling angry, but most of all, feeling hurt, I ran back up the stairs, staying as silent as possible. I wasn’t feeling hungry anymore, anyway. Contrary to what I would have thought, my appetite had shot up, and I was always snacking on something the moment my stomach rumbled. Right then, though, I felt too sick to eat anything.

  I went into my room and closed the door quietly. I didn’t want to alert him that I knew about his plans. I laid back on my bed, curled around my pillow and closed my eyes. Eventually, I fell asleep, tears drying on my cheeks.

  My phone ringing woke me up a while later. I blinked my eyes open and stared at it where I’d left it on my nightstand.

  In the first couple days after the accident, I’d gotten plenty of calls from my friends at school. They all wanted to know what was going on, why my brother and I were missing from classes, Kevin, too. I’d sent a group text that I would be out for a while, and I would explain things.

  That was about a week ago. People stopped calling, and this was the first time in days my phone had rung.

  I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but at the same time, I felt I would go crazy if I kept silent and to myself for much longer. The news should have spread around town, probably far enough to the high school that no one needed to be asking me about my brother. I stretched my hand out and brought the phone to my face.

  “Oh!” I gasped, sitting up so fast my head spun.

  Kevin was calling!

  But I hesitated to pick up the call. Had it been a day ago, or even just that morning, when he called, I would have picked up without hesitation. I missed him, and I’d been berating myself for not reaching out to him sooner.

  But after that call I just overheard from Dad…

  I cut the call and sent a text instead.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  I paused. “Is your mom there?”

  There was a long pause from his side, then finally: “Yeah. She left a while ago, and she hasn’t come back.”

  I pursed my lips. Dad had told her to stay home, but they’d probably gone together to look at this house they were all going to rent.

  “I’m coming over.”

  I sent the text, then jumped out of bed. I changed quickly, because the clothes I wore I’d been sleeping in for more than a couple days. I wanted to take the time for a shower, but I didn’t plan on staying there long, anyway. My phone vibrated, but I didn’t bother picking it up again.

  Dressed, I ran my hands through my hair, then left my room, and went out of the house. I walked over to Kevin’s house and reached for the door handle, not bothering with knocking. He usually left the door open when he was inviting me over. My heart cracked a little when I realized he had left it open, but I firmed my resolve.

  I stomped inside, and Kevin was just stumbling down the stairs.

  “Stacey,” he said with obvious relief on his face. “I wanted to come see you sooner, but I didn’t know if…” He let his voice trail off when he noticed I was glaring at him. He frowned, tilting his head at me. “Stacey? What is it?”

  I took a deep breath, and let it out. Just say what you came here to say and leave.

  “Tell your mom to stay away from my dad,” I said, my voice loud and clear.

  Kevin’s jaw dropped, then he floundered, opening and closing his mouth, trying to find words.

  “Stacey, what the fuck are you talking about—”

  “You heard me just fine, Kevin,” I cut him off. “Your mom is ruining everything for my family, and she’s still not stopping. I want you to tell her to stop.”

  He flattened his lips, looking unhappy. “I can't just tell my mom what to do. I don’t like it either, and I don’t know what she’s thinking, but Stacey…” He started walking toward me again.

  “She’s a fucking whore,” I said through gritted teeth. My words froze him in place, and I watched as his expression went blank, and he dropped his arm. “You might not like it, but Kevin, she is! All of this is her fault! Your mom should have never gotten close to my dad, and now because she did, my brother is dead!”

  I was shouting before I realized it, tears streaming down my face. I’d cried so much the past week I’d thought my tears were dried up, but I guess not.

  “Stacey,” Kevin said quietly.

  “No!” I screamed until my throat itched, but I didn’t care. Kevin was surprised into taking a step away from me. “No, Kevin! I bet she hasn’t even told you the truth, right? That she was with my dad, and Rod found out, then my mom found out. No one told my brother anything, Kevin, he caught them out, and he and Dad fought over it! My mom told me that he suspected for the longest time.”

  “What…” he murmured, shocked. “My mom told me your dad said he’d known for maybe a month.”

  I shook my head, laughing. Even though I was the farthest thing from happy. “That isn’t true. Even Dad didn’t know, but Mom told me all of it. How Rod suspected it and kept dropping hints at her, hoping she could find out the truth and do something. Only it seemed to make her even more unhappy because your mom and my dad wouldn’t stop. And finally, Rod snapped. We got the reports from the hospital. Rod was definitely on steroids, and some other drugs, and it only started recently. Can you guess why?”

  He had this dawning expression on his face as he realized it. How blind we had all been, all of us but Rod. How all of this had stressed him out, and Kevin and I were too lost in each other even to notice he was spiraling down. Even with my eyes closed, I should have figured that my brother blowing up at my dad was a bad sign because he never let himself get that angry.

  But I hadn't questioned it. And I wasn’t going to be alone in feeling this guilt because everyone involved had played some hand in it.

  “I just… I…,” Kevin stammered. “I had no idea he…”

  I let out a sob, the tears coming so fast now my eyesight was blurred no matter how much I blinked.

  “Your fault,” I choked. Then, I screamed, showing just how much of an emotional wreck I was. “It’s all your family’s fault this happened! Your mom should have left my dad alone, Kevin! Now my brother is dead, and no one can bring him back!”

  I stumbled away, running back outside, even though I couldn’t see well. I knocked into the wall beside the door, but didn’t stop, couldn’t. I ignored Kevin calling my name as I rushed back to my room to lock myself in for several more days.

  Chapter 14

  Stacey

  After breaking down at Kevin’s house, I spent some more days going through another cryi
ng binge as everything hit me anew. My thoughts kept running back and forth; I was barely eating. In the times when my mind was lucid, and I wasn’t sleeping or crying, I felt like I would lose my mind.

  Especially when it came to the funeral.

  I didn’t know if it had been put off on purpose, or who reached the decision. But ten days after his death, my mom told me we would have the funeral for Rod over the upcoming weekend. It was days away.

  “If it were up to me… I would honestly want the day never to come that I would have to bury my little boy,” she’d told me, crying. “But we need to move on, honey. Everyone does. And for that to happen, we need this.”

  I’d nodded in understanding and broke down crying. Mom went to take care of some details, and I went back to my crying and sleeping routine.

  I made preparations for the funeral. Since I knew I’d need someone to talk to, and it couldn’t be Kevin after what I’d screamed at him in his own house, I looked for another of my friends. Amanda, my other bestie, and at the moment, my only; seeing as my twin was dead and Kevin and I were probably broken up already.

  Amanda, nice friend that she was, had been giving me space for so long, showed up on my doorstep half an hour after I sent her a message. The funeral was set for the next day, and she’d brought enough stuff for a sleepover, including an outfit for the funeral and some other necessities. I’d led her to my room, and she’d put on some music and comforted me on the bed. We didn’t speak, and after eating some of the snacks she’d brought along, we fell asleep.

  I woke up early the next morning, startled from a nightmare I couldn’t remember. Amanda woke up maybe half an hour later, to find me hugging my knees to my chest and staring off into space. I didn’t move, even as I heard her stir on the bed beside me.

  “Stacey?” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

  I whimpered and buried my face in my knees. At least she didn’t ask if I was okay; the obvious answer would be no.

  “Fuck, Amanda,” I whispered, the low words coming out muffled. “I don’t think I want to go. I’m not sure I can go through with this with my mind intact. The past week has been horrible enough, and now—” I cut off as my breath hitched. “Just…fuck. What is wrong with me?”

  She sighed and shifted to sit next to me, rubbing soothing circles on my back as she leaned her head against mine.

  “You don’t want to go to the funeral?” she inferred.

  Hesitantly, I nodded.

  “Well, I think that’s pretty normal. Stacey, your brother died. Going to the funeral basically, means you’re saying goodbye to him forever. You don’t want to do that, right?”

  I shook my head no.

  Amanda was suddenly hugging me, and I let go of my knees and latched onto her instead, burying my face in her shoulder as a few tears squeezed out from my tired eyes.

  “Saying goodbye can be hard for everyone. A lot of people react differently. Like, when I had to go to my grandma’s funeral. I didn’t cry the whole time, even though a lot of people around me couldn’t stop. But afterward, every time I thought about her, or I heard a song she particularly liked, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I didn’t even get to see her more than a few times a year, but it still hit me hard, you know?”

  I sniffled and pulled away, wiping the tears from my eyes. I met her gaze, and Amanda’s eyes were full of sympathy.

  “Look, I know it’s not going to be easy. And I’m not going to say it gets better. What usually happens is you get used to the pain, it doesn’t go away.”

  My face crumpled. “That isn’t making me feel better,” I whined.

  She snorted. “It’s not meant to. I know I’ve never lost someone as close to me as your brother was to you, but saying goodbye to him might help you, you know? Whether or not you go, it won’t change that Rod is gone now. Don’t you want to at least say goodbye?”

  I didn’t want to. Rod had been my other half for so long, not having him around was like missing a vital piece of me. But, Amanda was right, too. No matter how much it hurt, how could I not say goodbye to him? He would only be getting the one funeral, and while I could always visit his grave, later on, it wouldn’t be the same.

  “Do you think you can make it to the funeral?” Amanda asked, her voice soft. “For your brother? Or at least your memories of him?”

  I nodded slowly, cracking a small smile in thanks. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I want to say goodbye to my brother.”

  “Then come on,” she said, getting off the bed and tugging on me. “We need to get you properly outfitted for this. First, comes a shower. Do you have a dress for today? I bought some new black dresses recently and brought them along. I’ve been doing some jobs on the side, and the money’s pretty good, so I don’t mind giving you one of the outfits…”

  I listened to Amanda babble as she picked out a towel for me, and led me to the bathroom. She turned on the shower water, and stood to the side, leaning a hand under the spray and adjusting the temperature. She stopped talking when the water was satisfactory and turned to me.

  “Do you need me to wait here while you shower? I won’t peek if you pull the shower curtain.

  “No, that’s fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Thanks for babying me, I think I need it. But this much is enough.”

  She pulled me into another hug. “Of course, honey. You’re my best friend, and you’re hurting. You deserve to be babied at least this once.” Then she pulled back and gave me a small smile. “Now, get showered and come back to the room, I’ll have everything arranged on the bed, okay? And while I shower, you can pick the dress and shoes you’re going to wear. There are also some accessories and make-up. When I come out, we’ll get ready to go.”

  I waved at her as she turned and left the bathroom. Then I sighed as I got under the hot water. When was the last time I even brought myself to leave my room for a shower? I wrinkled my nose. It must have been several days because I didn’t remember showering. I probably stank.

  Thanks, Amanda, for being such a good friend and not even telling me I’m smelly.

  I’d have to thank her personally. She’d held me last night as I fell asleep when I was that disgusting.

  I took nearly twenty minutes, thoroughly washing up, soaping up and rinsing twice. I shampooed my hair at least three times to get the sweat out of it. When I went back to my room with a towel wrapped around me, it was to find that Amanda had emptied most of her things onto the bed and my desk. My closet door was open, and some shoes were lined in front of the bed. At least five dresses in different styles and designs were arranged on the bed, and only one of them was mine. The make-up and accessories were on the desk.

  Amanda looked up at me. “Oh, you’re back! Let me just go real quick. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

  She didn’t give me time to reply before she was rushing out of the room with a small bag and a towel in hand. I did as she’d asked and looked through the dresses first. Amanda and I were about the same size, though she was slightly bigger around the bust depending on the bra she wore. I picked a simple dress that looked like it would fit me okay. I pulled on some underwear, then the dress, and went to look at myself in the mirror attached to my closet door.

  The dress fit around the bust and flared slightly at the waist, falling to just below my knees with sleeves down to the elbow. I didn’t know much about dressing for funerals, but I thought everything, neckline, and length should be okay. The dress came with a thin belt, and I tied it around my waist. I picked a pair of black high heels.

  Amanda was back before I could look through the accessories.

  “Oh! That’s a really good choice,” she said, closing the door behind her. She already had her underwear on under the towel. She dropped it and picked her dress. “You could pair it with a jacket, or a small scarf. It won’t rain, but the day might get a little cold.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I told her. Besides, my body felt cold already. I might not feel it.

  Her dress was an almos
t mirror to mine, only with sheer sleeves, with a slight dovetail, so it fell lower on the back. On her feet, she had three-inch strappy heels.

  “Sit down and let me do your makeup,” she instructed. “The shower helped, but your eyes still look a bit red and puffy from crying.”

  I did as she asked and sat in the chair on my desk. She barely took ten minutes, and when I glanced at the mirror, it was like a different face was looking at me. The make-up was subtle, but I no longer looked so damn pale. My eyes were still red, but the area underneath didn’t look slightly swollen.

  Amanda picked simple earrings and necklace, both in silver with small diamonds. The necklace had an infinity symbol, and I cracked another small smile at that. The earrings were small and in the shape of a heart.

  “After the funeral, I think I’ll stick around for the next couple days,” Amanda was saying as she did herself up. “I’ll be taking time off from school for just a little.”

  “You don’t have to…” I murmured. I was reluctant, though. She hadn't been here long, but I could feel the difference with her around.

  “It’s fine,” she reassured me. “Trust me; I want to.” She looked up at me, looking ready. Then her face lit up as she realized something. “I almost forgot. You told me you hadn't left home yet, so you probably don’t have any…”

  “What is it?” I asked curiously.

  “I got you everything you could need for today.” She picked up her bag and ruffled through it. “Especially this. The dress is black, but you don’t want to ruin it with stains, anyway.” She glanced up at me with a grimace. “Of all the times to have to worry about something like this, though. Let me know if you need pain meds, too.”

  I frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

  She arched her eyebrows at me. “This, of course.” But I still didn’t know what ‘this’ was. “Oh!” she said, seeming to have found what she was looking for. I wondered just how much stuff she’d brought. And then, she raised up a box and a packet. “Which one would you like to go with? You might want to go with the pads for comfort, but the tampons will help, so you don’t ruin the lines of your dress.”