Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“But eventually you remembered. And you never told a soul. You let everyone think the worst, but you were just walking with your boyfriend.” My voice was low, but it ricocheted and echoed off the walls in his foyer. “You still think you deserve everything that happened, don’t you? You think you deserve to be alone. You think they were right to leave you. That’s why you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m doing you a favor.”
“That’s the exact opposite of what I want. Look, I’m sorry. Last night was my fault too. I should have known better than to bring you to a family function. It was naïve and ill-conceived and…I’ll do better. Just don’t give up on me, Noah. Please,” I begged. “Don’t give up.”
I literally begged.
“Oh, Thomas.” He swiped at his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath.
I pulled him into my arms and held him while I tried to think of all the reasons he should take a chance on the present…on me. Sadly, I came up short.
What could I say? I’m nice. I’m dependable. The same thing could be said of a vacuum cleaner. I had nothing of substance to offer. No money, no job security. I was a genius with prospects. My future scared him as much as his past. I didn’t know how to battle these ghosts.
“Listen to me, you’re enough…just the way you are,” I whispered hoarsely. I held his face in my hands and kissed his forehead. “I’m not like your parents or your ex. I can handle the past and I can—”
“But I can’t.” He pushed away and shook his head. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you deserve better than this.”
My eyes stung and my lungs felt heavy in my chest. “Right.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas. I’m sorry.”
I rubbed my jaw, then tilted my face to the ceiling, hoping to compose myself.
“Me too. You know, I never thought someone like you would ever notice me. I’m not special. You are. The problem is…you don’t see yourself clearly. I wish you could see what I do.”
“Thomas.”
“I’m gonna find a way. I’m going to prove that I’m right about us. I’m not giving up.” I kissed his cheek and headed for the door.
I walked with purpose down the stairs and navigated the pathway to my car.
But when I got behind the wheel, I was shaking so hard I could barely put the key in the ignition. I sat there, willing my body to cooperate, but the accompanying adrenaline rush and crash left me reeling. I pulled my glasses off and stared, unseeing as wave after wave of impotent frustration threatened to bury me alive.
My pulse skittered, and my throat tightened as if a boa constrictor had me in a vise grip. Just when I thought I might pass out, a sudden loud snap yanked me back to reality.
I looked down at my broken glasses in my hand and automatically reached for the roll of tape I kept in the console. I tore off a long piece of adhesive and numbly wrapped it around the bridge, securing the separate pieces like an old pro.
It was the perfect exclamation point on a terrible day or a not-so-gentle reminder that I’d overstepped my bounds.
Either way, I was exactly where I’d started. Alone…with a busted pair of glasses and a broken heart.
13
NOAH
Sunday bled into Monday like a watercolor dripping paint from a canvas on a rainy day. Dramatic, I know, but it fit my mood. If I were a hero in a Regency novel, I would have spent all day and all night aimlessly walking the moors. Instead, I sat in the dark, wiling away the hours, stitching the same bit of thread through cotton. It was a lumpy mess now, but hey…so was I.
At one point, I found myself on the floor in my foyer—don’t ask. I sat there, huddled with my arms around my legs, and watched the shadows fall…and allowed the darkness to come for me.
What I didn’t do was listen to Edith Piaf. And I didn’t look at my phone. Edith would make me cry, and I couldn’t use my cell like a lifeline. I needed to regroup and figure out how to get through the days alone. I thought I had that worked out. But then Thomas came along and now…I was back to square one.
Christ, I was a fucking mess.
And I was shocked at how painful it felt to lose…everything. Again.
I eventually shuffled into the kitchen that evening and made a cup of tea. I examined Mabel’s scrawl on the windowsill as I leaned against the counter, sipping from my mug. The swooping M and the—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Yikes! I nearly jumped out of my skin. I went perfectly still. I didn’t have to answer the door. I could pretend I wasn’t home. I could—
“Yo, Noah! Open up or I’m using my key!”