Don't Let Go

Chapter 10

Saturdays were always my biggest days at the store, and at this time of year it jumped up to chaotic at times. Ruthie did a children’s story time right before lunch, so many moms could bring their kids for an outing of stories, lunch at the diner, and dessert at the ice cream shop just down the sidewalk. Also, since everyone else with normal jobs had Saturdays off, many of them saved their holiday shopping time for the weekends.
 
And that was okay.
 
Normally.
 
Today, I wasn’t in the mood. I knew Noah was next door, having seen his truck parked out front, and that knowledge sat like acid in my stomach. Too much had transpired the night before, and not just the fight. The moment we’d had on the back patio had stirred my blood and gripped my heart, making me relive it on long loop over and over.
 
You bailed on our son.
 
And Becca had me irritated, both at her and at myself. The things she’d said had hit home, about being the perfect dream child with all my rules, and about my plans versus hers.
 
Dream child? Pregnant at seventeen was hardly a dream child, but she didn’t know about that. I still didn’t know how I’d gotten that lucky, having grown up in the same town, but basically time dulls memories and no one cared much about two dumb kids who got themselves in a pickle. Especially when the child never showed up. Made it easy to forget, I guess. For them.
 
Nana Mae kept bending my ear about telling Becca, though, before someone suddenly grew a memory, and she was right. I knew she was right. The latest topic, however, made that a little awkward.
 
I had followed the rules before all that, though. Mostly. But they weren’t mine. They were my mother’s. Her way of keeping control and order in the life around her, and I guessed I’d grown up to do the same.
 
Sitting at her counter, in her bookstore, selling one gift certificate after another and watching her customers mill about while Ruthie acted out Brown Bear, Brown Bear in the corner amid a mob of little people—and letting that realization settle over me like a blanket, my skin prickled all over. Whose life was I living? Mine or my mother’s?
 
Whose plans, Mom? Mine or yours?
 
My clothes suddenly felt heavy and hot, and I got up and headed to the back break room for a bottle of water. I got the water, but the leftover Mississippi Mud in the fridge caught my eye as well, and I unwrapped the cellophane-covered plate and pulled out a gooey piece.
 
“Mmm-mygod,” I mumbled around it as the heavenly comfort food excited my taste buds and put me in a chocolate state of Zen.
 
I heard it from the kitchen. The unmistakable sound of a cane against a wall. My Zen moment melted away with the chocolate down my throat, and I chugged the water on my way out to the sales floor.
 
Bam-bam.
 
Feeling like everything inside me was riding on the edge, I fisted my hand and banged back. Pictures rattled on the wall around me and a bronze sign with the saying No better peace than right her clattered to the floor. I heard Ruthie’s voice halt abruptly, and I turned to see her staring at me along with fifteen sets of little eyes and many of the parents.
 
“Sorry,” I said.
 
Bam.
 
That was it. I set my water bottle down on the counter and walked right out the front door, the bell jingling madly behind me. The brisk air hit me full-on, making me suck in a chest full of the cold, thick air, but it felt good. I wanted it to chill everything in me and freeze over.
 
Noah’s truck was gone and I felt an odd mix of massive relief and the twinge of disappointment. When I pulled open the heavy diner door, warmth hit me again, coupled with the mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken.
 
But I wasn’t there for that. I couldn’t show weakness.
 
I smiled briefly at Linny as she looked up from taking an order, and she winked at me. I walked right up to the counter and stared at the top of Johnny Mack’s head as he bent over the grease pits. I was determined to stand there until the force of my will made him look up.
 
“Hey, Jules,” said a voice to my left.
 
I jerked my head to see Shayna sitting alone at the lunch counter, smiling at me with tired eyes. Some of my ire fizzled down, but a large part of it just started a whole new swirl of uncomfortable.
 
“Oh—hey,” I responded, not moving at first. I glanced back at Johnny Mack, who hadn’t budged, and then back to her.
 
The polite thing to do would be to go talk to her, especially after the night we’d had and the fact that she had been very nice then, too. Everything inside me battled as I wished her not to be so damn nice.
 
She looked girl-next-door pretty in a long denim skirt and matching jacket, and tall brown boots. It made me fidget with my own boring Ruthie-inspired black sweater and tank top over a black wraparound skirt and leggings. Maybe I felt the all-black would help me disappear. Maybe I wanted to feel as confident as Ruthie. But as I walked closer to Shayna, I felt like an old woman or a school librarian next to her freshness. I could have looked that good thirteen years ago, but I didn’t then either. I was just as boring then.
 
“Did you have the fried chicken?” I asked, for lack of anything more rousing to say. “It’s really good.”
 
“I did have a piece,” she said. “With the grilled veggies—really good.”
 
One piece. Great, she ate like a sparrow, too.
 
She looked sideways at Johnny Mack. “I saw him banging with his cane,” she said softly. “That’s your store on the other side, right?”
 
I blew out a breath. “Yes, and he’s driving me up a damn tree with that.”
 
“Why does he do that?”
 
I shook my head. “He says he hears music,” I said. “We hardly ever play any music. My mom used to, years ago, but I don’t play anything. Linny doesn’t even hear it,” I said, raising my voice to reach him. “He’s off his damn rocker.”
 
I saw his mouth tighten, although he didn’t look up, meaning he’d seen me from the get-go and chose to ignore. The muscles in my shoulders tightened into tiny balls as the old hatred spurned by hurt burned deeper into my chest. I took a deep breath and turned away, facing Shayna full-on. I wouldn’t let him goad me, not even with his haughty silence, not in front of her.
 
“So how is everything going?” I asked, with not a clue in hell where I was going with it. She could take that fifty different directions, and I just hoped she’d pick one.
 
“Good,” she said, fiddling with her coffee cup, giving me nothing. Great. “Your ex make it home okay last night?” she asked, her nose crinkling on a cute smile.
 
I groaned. “That’s a memory I’d like to erase. For everyone.”
 
Shayna laughed and pushed her cup away. “Don’t sweat it. We all have crazy exes.”
 
“And that’s the sad part,” I said. “He’s not. He’s always been the stable one, emotionally. I’ve never seen him be so idiotic before.”
 
She licked her lips, looking at the counter before meeting my eyes again. “I think maybe it was seeing Noah.”
 
And there it was, the giant elephant.
 
“Probably,” I said quietly.
 
“More decaf, hon?” Linny asked as she moved down the counter with a pot in each hand.
 
“No, thank you,” Shayna said, holding up a hand.
 
Linny questioned me with her eyes and I shook my head that I didn’t need anything so she could keep going. I couldn’t have any of these conversations around her, I never had in all these years. Not once did I ever talk to her about her brother, or giving up the baby, even though she always remained nice and chatty with me and even sent a beautiful card when Becca was born. It was like an unspoken agreement between us. We’d talk about Johnny Mack being a dick, and we both knew why, but we didn’t go there. And it was like Noah never existed.
 
With him back now, I knew she was keeping a bit of a distance to avoid conversation that might go past Hello and Here are the specials, and that was okay. I didn’t know what to say, either.
 
“When he first came to the table, I thought it was an old friend of Noah’s,” Shayna said, bringing me back. “But when Noah went into his—glazed-over mode,” she said with a gesture at her eyes, “I realized it was the guy you’d been dancing with earlier.”
 
My stomach churned with the uncomfortable air that settled around us. “What did Hayden say?” I asked.
 
“Oh, he introduced himself, we did too, it was all fine until he made some comment about me keeping Noah on a tight leash.”
 
“Oh, my God,” I said into a hand I’d raised to hide behind.
 
“Yeah, it pretty much went downhill from there.”
 
I dropped my hand. “Shayna, I am so sorry.”
 
She chuckled silently. “It’s okay, Jules. I’m a big girl.”
 
“I know, but—” I stopped and breathed in deep and let it out. “I know you have probably been swamped with Noah’s past since you crossed into Copper Falls, and it keeps landing on you at every turn.”
 
She laughed out loud, transforming her face into stunning again. “Very true.”
 
“You handle it so damn well,” I said. “I want to grow up and be you one day.”
 
She giggled again and touched my hand. “Never fear, I’m not as secure as I look.”
 
“Well, then you fake it like a pro.”
 
She tilted her head, her face morphing into a mask of professionalism. “My daddy taught me to smile through pain, never to give your hand away, and shake hands like a man.”
 
I raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”
 
Her face relaxed back into reality. “Yeah, my dad didn’t have any boys.”
 
I laughed out loud, realizing I felt truly relaxed for the first time in a week. Damn it, this girl could actually be my friend. If she weren’t—something else. The thought sent my gaze to her left hand, and my mind flew back in time to a piece of string that turned into a tiny gold band with a sparkly chip on top. Shayna sported a white-gold ring with a large square-cut diamond and smaller ones headed down the sides. It was gorgeous. And expensive. I wondered if he’d tied a piece of string around her finger first.
 
“So speaking of boys,” I began, feeling braver in our conversation. “Do you know what you’re having?”
 
The light in her eyes faded instantly, although the smile remained tacked in place. One hand rested against her belly protectively. I remembered that feeling.
 
“Not yet,” she said. “Not sure if I’m going to. I’m kind of old school like that. I want the surprise.”
 
“I did too,” I said, thinking only of Becca. I didn’t even let myself go anywhere else. “I know what you mean.”
 
“So—how was it when you were pregnant?” she asked, meeting my eyes with an odd look. For a hair of a second I wondered if she was talking about the other one. Noah’s. I opened my mouth, but it went dry as my heartbeat sped up. “I mean, was the dad all involved in it or was it mainly just you?”
 
The strange question took me off guard even more than my fear of which pregnancy she was talking about. I licked my lips so they’d function again.
 
“Um—yeah, he was very involved, wanted to know everything, feel every kick.” Both times. I remembered Noah kissing my belly good-bye every day. Hayden spooning me, sleeping with his hand palming my stomach, holding both of us. “I was lucky,” I said, never realizing that before.
 
“Yes, you were,” she agreed.
 
I couldn’t get a read on her mood, but it had definitely shifted. “Well, I’m sure you have that, too,” I said, pushing to lighten the air. “Just keep him up on all of it, because they don’t have the advantage we do, of our own little personal dance party going on twenty-four-seven. They just get to look in the window.”
 
Shayna smiled again, chuckling at that as she looked down thoughtfully. “Good point.”
 
“You may want to ask mommy advice from someone who values the role,” said a scratchy voice to my right.
 
We both turned to see Johnny Mack standing behind the counter in front of us, having come around from the kitchen without either of us noticing.
 
“What?” I breathed.
 
Without looking at me, he wiped his hands on his apron and patted Shayna’s hand. “You care about family, honey. This one doesn’t. She throws one kid away and never thinks of him again while she raises another to be a heathen.”
 
My eyes filled with instant tears and every molecule of my body lit up with a blaze of heat. His image swam before me and all I could hear was my own breathing. I couldn’t even look at Shayna. I felt her grip on my hand, and I blinked the tears down my face.
 
“Don’t say things like that,” I heard her say quietly.
 
“Honey, you don’t know—” he began, again pretending I wasn’t there.
 
“What’s wrong with you?” I whispered, my voice too shaky to go louder. “You don’t talk to me for years, and then you go spewing poison like that.”
 
“I’m still not talking to you,” he said, focusing on Shayna. “I’ve fixed your screwups.”
 
“You’ve done what?”
 
“I’m not talking to you,” he repeated slowly, looking me in the eye for the first time. “I’m telling Shayna what I know—”
 
“You don’t know anything,” I said, not recognizing the raw gravelly tone coming from my throat. I pushed away from the counter. “And how dare you insult Becca like that, you miserable old fuck. You aren’t even lucky enough to know her.”
 
“I don’t need to,” he said, leaning over the counter, his wrinkled face older than I remembered noticing. “I have real grandchildren to get to know. My blood.”
 
I backed up, noticing Shayna’s shocked face drain even paler as she stared at Johnny Mack. I was oblivious to the tears running down my face.
 
“Rot in hell, old man,” I said, the words choking me even as my hatred for him overwhelmed me. Once upon a time I’d loved him like a father. He’d treated me like his own. It broke my heart and hardened it at the same time. “And you bang on that wall one more time,” I said through my teeth, pushing forward again “and so help me, I will personally come over here and rip everything off of yours. Do you hear me?”
 
He grabbed a towel and began wiping down the counter as if I’d never been there. Sobs bubbled up and I turned and bolted through the door, pushing a lady out of my way and barreling straight into Noah’s arms.
 
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around me to stabilize us both before looking to see who he’d caught. “Jules, what’s—”
 
I broke free without speaking and pushed past him.
 
“Jules, wait, what’s wrong?” he said, following me.
 
“Leave me alone, Noah.”
 
If I’d only had my purse with me I would have headed straight for my car and driven home. In lieu of that, I yanked open the door to the bookstore and prayed he’d stop.
 
He didn’t, and the barrage of questions trailed behind me all the way to the break room, the swinging door bouncing in his wake. I whirled on him, adrenaline sending a new wave of hot tears over the edge.
 
“You’re not allowed back here,” I said, my voice shaking with anger.
 
“Deal with it,” he said, looking at me with exasperation. “What happened over there that’s got you so upset? Surely, Shayna didn’t—”
 
I laughed, a bitter sound I didn’t even recognize. “Are you kidding me? Shayna is like the nicest person on the planet. I didn’t think it was even possible to be that good.”
 
A tiny look of relief passed over his face. “What, then?” he demanded.
 
I scoffed, remembering the horrid words and trying to shove the burning sob down that wanted to split me in half.
 
She throws one kid away and never thinks of him again . . .
 
It won. A noise of pain escaped my throat, and I hissed in a breath to quell it.
 
“Ask your father,” I spit out, turning away.
 
I headed for the fridge, wanting to stick my head in the freezer, but the grip on my upper arm stopped me.
 
“I asked you,” he said roughly as he spun me around.
 
We both inhaled sharply as we landed together and found ourselves nearly nose to nose. I blinked tears free, bringing Noah’s face into perfect focus. His quickened breath felt warm on my face, and all the hard lines of his expression dissolved when he searched my eyes.
 
“Shit, Jules,” he said under his breath, so softly it was nearly inaudible.
 
One of his hands went to my face as if on autopilot, and I shut my eyes tight as the warmth of his hand against my cheek and hair nearly broke me. I could smell him, feel him, and I didn’t dare open my eyes to look at him. He’d see it.
 
“Noah, don’t,” I whispered through broken breaths. I reached up to pull his hand away, but then the other side of my head was cradled as well, and all my strength melted away. My grip on his hand stayed where it was, and I could feel the slight tremble. Or was that me?
 
I didn’t open my eyes until I felt his thumbs move across my cheeks, wiping away tears, and it hit me in the chest like a wrecking ball. He looked like someone had beaten the crap out of him from the inside. His eyelids were heavy, like a man who hadn’t slept in days. The turmoil radiating off of him was palpable.
 
 That, plus the feel of his hands in my hair, the closeness of his body, so close I could feel him breathe, it was almost too much. His eyes went to my mouth, and for a second it was like ropes were pulling us together. I could nearly taste him.
 
“What did he do?” Noah asked finally, halting the forward motion, his voice hoarse and strained.
 
I shook my head as much as I could inside his hold. I wasn’t going to pit him against his father, and I didn’t want another fight. “It’s my battle with him,” I said. “It has been for years. He just—” I stopped to pull it together as the burn jabbed at me again. “Crossed the line today.”
 
“I’m sorry.”
 
“You don’t need to be.”
 
Everything in me wanted to wind my arms around him and pull him the rest of the way in, to feel his lips come down on mine, but I shoved that thought away. That was from a lifetime ago. The old us. Before a baby and parents and an ocean and two decades separated all that we were. I grasped his hands instead to pull away gently and backed up a half step, still holding on.
 
“We can’t help who our parents are,” I said.
 
A look that felt like an eternity passed between us, full of so many things I couldn’t read and yet couldn’t look away from. Then he slowly pulled his hands from mine, running them over his face and up through his hair as he walked around the tiny break room.
 
The moment was broken, but something had shifted. The walls that weren’t really walls but more of a respectful barrier had gone wiggly. From last night’s moment on the back patio to just seconds earlier, the push-pull thing between us had taken on a life of its own.
 
My feet had taken root in the cheap carpet when he touched me, but I refused to stand there like a stunned statue. I refused to let Noah see what he could still do to me. Forcing myself into motion, I made it to the fridge, swiping the tears from my too-warm face on the way. With shaking hands I grabbed two waters and held one out to him, thinking he might need the cold as much as I did.
 
He stopped by the sink and took it from me, leaning back against the counter and draining half of it in two swallows. He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, letting his gaze fall on me again like there were a thousand questions to ask. There weren’t. He looked like he felt safer over there, but the room wasn’t big enough for me to share that opinion. The mere six feet separating us seemed like two, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
 
“Why are you still here, in this store?” he asked finally, holding up his hands quickly. “And don’t take that wrong or get mad at me. It’s just a question.”
 
Just a question. I was learning that nothing was that simple with him now. I wanted to ask him why he was still here in this store. Like, instead of next door with his woman.
 
“Why did you come back to Copper Falls?” I asked.
 
He narrowed his eyes and paused for a second. “Family.”
 
 “Ditto,” I said, tilting my head like Ruthie would. Like she would likely come in and do any minute after watching Noah follow me back there. “I’m here because my mother wanted me to take this on.”
 
He shook his head. “It’s different.”
 
“How?” I said, laughing. “Because it’s me and not you?”
 
“No, because I came back on my own,” he said quietly. “No one wrote up a map and a guidebook and demanded I follow it.”
 
I felt my jaw muscles tighten, my shoulders following close behind. That was good. Angry and closed off was better than emotional and wanting to dive under his clothes.
 
“Once upon a time, you were my best friend, Noah,” I said, keeping my voice low and nearly quiver-free. He blinked and pulled in a long breath, telling me I’d hit a nerve. “But you’ve been gone a long time. I don’t pretend to still know you like I used to. So don’t judge my life like you’ve been here to see it.”
 
There was another of those pensive looks of his, and I had to look away to keep from getting pinned to the floor again. I drained the last of my water and tossed the bottle in the trash, finger-combing my hair back. I needed to stay in that mode. No more damn tears, especially not in front of him.
 
“I’m not judging you, Jules,” he said. “Or I’m not meaning to come across that way.”
 
“Well, you’re failing, then.”
 
 He pushed off the counter and came to stand in front of me again, crossing his arms for a sense of distance. Or possibly to keep from touching me. “No disrespect to your mom, but she and I never saw eye to eye.”
 
“Really?”
 
“Really,” he said, his voice harder, rising to my bait. “She worked you like a puppet back then, and—” He breathed in and out as if weighing his words. “I guess I always hoped you’d get out from under her one day.”
 
I felt my chin tremble, but it wasn’t from sadness, it was from my blood boiling.
 
“She died,” I said through my teeth. “I’m not under anyone.”
 
He shook his head just slightly, his eyes boring into mine. “Twenty-six years and you’re still here doing her bidding. Running a store you wanted no part of, giving up on what made you—”
 
“How dare you,” I seethed, pushing forward, not caring how close that put me. “You come back here after all this time and dare to tell me where I’ve gone wrong. You told me last night that I didn’t know the life you’d lived, well right back at you, babe.” My voice quivered with anger this time, and I didn’t care. “Everything I’ve done since you left has been on me. Every choice, every path I’ve chosen has been alone. Even when I was married, I was alone in my own head. You think you had to go overseas to be alone with your pain?” I poked him in the chest. “I was in a whole damn town full of people and was completely by myself.”
 
He grabbed my hand when I poked him, eyes flaring. I got the feeling that people didn’t dare do that to him. Well, then he shouldn’t have come back, because I didn’t give a rat’s ass at that moment about his aggression or pride or who he was in that other world.
 
“What happened to art school?” he pushed.
 
“Jesus, why do you care?” I breathed. “And why do you remember that?”
 
He used my hand to pull me in to him, jaw muscles twitching. He looked intimidating, but I was too torqued to let him mess with my head like that. I held my chin up higher and glared right back at him, pushing back the turmoil I felt in my own core at being held tightly against him. That didn’t matter.
 
“I remember everything,” he whispered through his teeth.
 
“Well, if you were so damned concerned about where I’d land,” I said, pulling my hand free and pushing at him. It only pushed me back, instead. “Then what kept you on the other side of the world?”
 
The thin white scar above his lip twitched. My heart sped up as I realized what the new thing was about him that made me so crazy. The softer he looked and spoke, the higher his engine cranked, so that talking up close and personal felt like a lightning show.
 
“Maybe I couldn’t stand to see everything ripped apart,” he said. “It was easier to start over.”
 
“Easier,” I repeated, smiling. “How convenient for you.”
 
His blue eyes went dark. “Don’t go there.”
 
“Oh, you already did,” I said, moving back to lean against the counter where he’d previously been. I gripped the edges so he wouldn’t see my trembling. “You don’t have the market on self-righteous anger, Noah. I’ve got a little of that myself. You followed me in here, and you’re welcome to leave if it’s uncomfortable now. If it’s easier.”
 
I knew I was playing with fire, even as the words fell out of my mouth. I expected to see the rage I’d seen the night before. Maybe he’d come pin me to the counter and yell at me. Maybe he’d storm out and leave and not come back. He didn’t do either of those things.
 
Instead, his face went stony, and he took two slow steps in my direction before stopping and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. It was an odd tack, and while initially bewildering, I saw the barely restrained energy pulsing through him. What was intended to be a casual stance of nonchalance was given away by the tightness in his shoulders and arms and a tiny twitch by his right eye. He focused on my mouth instead of my eyes and looked like he was ready to either chew me up or kiss me, and that thought was the one thing that did make my knees go weak.
 
“I’m listening,” he said slowly, robotically. He’d flipped a switch somewhere.
 
“I’m done,” I whispered. I truly had nothing left. Between Noah and his dad I felt like I’d just run ten miles in the sand with boots on.
 
His head moved almost imperceptibly, and just as he was about to speak the door opened slightly. Ruthie stood halfway in, one eyebrow raised in question as she looked from me to Noah and back again.
 
“Everything okay?” she asked.
 
He never turned around, never took his gaze off my face, and as I met his eyes I realized it might never be okay.
 
“It’s fine,” I said.
 
She nodded slowly and backed out, not looking entirely convinced. I wasn’t either. But I was too tired to do the leaving. He needed to go.
 
“Noah, it’s been a shitty morning and looks to be an equally dismal afternoon,” I said, rubbing at my face. “Can you just go?”
 
“Tell me about after I left,” he said in a low, toneless voice.
 
I wanted to scream.
 
“No.”
 
I pushed off the counter and made to walk past him, choosing to leave if he wouldn’t, but he reached across my middle to stop me, holding me at my waist.
 
“Please.” His face was still a mask, but his eyes looked different. Haunted, maybe.
 
“It doesn’t change anything, Noah,” I said, taking his hand off my waist but suddenly unable to let it go. It felt right, holding his hand, his arm, like in that one second we were who we used to know. It was disconcerting, and I averted my eyes. “It doesn’t change how you feel about me. You feel like I bailed, I feel like you did, and your dad thinks I’m the Antichrist. None of it matters now.” I squeezed his hand. “I may have signed those papers, but it’s not like I wanted to. And you left me to deal with the fallout of it all by myself, with a daily dose of your father to make damn sure I paid the price.”
 
I let go of him and went back to the fridge for another water bottle, not offering him one this time. Not even looking at him. I couldn’t get through even the summarized version if I did. I put the icy cold bottle on the back of my neck, closing my eyes as the cold chilled down my blood.
 
“My parents pretended it never happened,” I said, keeping my eyes shut. “No one talked about it, no one grieved with me but Ruthie. The days went by in my house as if he never exis—” I swallowed back tears, determined not to cry again. “Even when Becca came along years later, everyone acted as if it were the first time, even my mother. She gave me pregnancy tips like I’d never been there before.”
 
“Did Hayden know?”
 
The thickness of his voice, heavy with emotion, pulled me out of my reverie and I opened my eyes. His face was tight and his eyes reddened as if he were fighting tears himself.
 
“Yes.” I looked away and twisted the cap off my water. “He pulled me out of a self-destructive place and I loved him for that. I always told him the truth.”
 
“Which explains last night.”
 
I let out an exhausted breath. “Not really. He’s never acted like that. I’m sorry,” I said. “He just—” I swallowed hard against the guilt that always danced there. “I learned early on not to count on anyone but myself, and I guess he had too many years of being on the losing end of that.”
 
I took a deep breath and held my head up as I watched his expression change. He turned and walked slowly to the door, stopping before he reached it and putting his hands on his hips like he knew he needed to keep walking but couldn’t. My chest burned with that same need to stop him.
 
“I’m done with this, Noah,” I said to his back quietly, thankful he wasn’t looking at me. “I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve got my own problems, and you have a second chance at fatherhood sitting right next door.”
 
He nodded, not turning around, and pushed through the door as I took a deep breath and sagged against the counter. There weren’t any more tears. I was just exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically spent.
 
I covered my face with my hands, still seeing his face—his eyes—in my mind. So close I could have kissed him three different times. Shit, shit, shit. Everything we used to be in another lifetime was still there, pushing and tugging and teasing. It wasn’t just my imagination. I’d seen it in his eyes as well.
 
I had to stay away from him. That was all there was to it.