Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
She laughed quietly to herself.
“And then Nathan walked in,” she said. “He was so… confident. So sure. He listened to me in a way no one had for years.” Her eyes darted to me quickly before they were on her shoes again. “He told me I was extraordinary, that I’d done what most people couldn’t do.”
I could hear it in her voice, how much she’d needed that then.
And it killed me.
Because he gave her what I couldn’t.
I took away her safety and her comfort, her trust.
He brought it all back in.
My ribs tightened like a fist around my lungs.
“He asked me to dinner that night,” she said, smiling a little at the memory. “And we ended up in this awful little diner at midnight, eating greasy eggs and talking about books and kids and life. It was easy. Easier than anything had been in a long time. He… took care of me.” She swallowed, shrugging. “And I let him.”
The wind pushed her hair across her cheek, and she tucked it back again with trembling fingers.
“For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was drowning,” she said. “He came over, had my apartment cleaned, cooked dinner, helped Georgie with his science fair project. He was older, settled, established. Georgie relaxed around him, finally acting like the kid he was. I relaxed, too. He made everything feel… safe.”
Safe.
That word split me open. Because that was what I’d stolen from her. The very thing she’d craved since childhood, the thing I’d sworn to give her and then robbed her of by leaving.
“You deserve all of that,” I said quietly.
She looked up at me with her brows pulled tight, like she wasn’t expecting kindness from me right then. Her eyes softened for a breath, then shuttered.
“He was good to me,” she said. “Really good. For a long time.” A pause. “Long enough for me to believe it was everything I’d ever wanted.”
And there it was, the reason my stomach never quite settled around Nathan, the reason I couldn’t stop picking at why Ariana was with him.
It was small, almost enough not to notice, but I caught it — a hint of truth slipping between the seams.
A hint she didn’t mean to share.
“And he still is?” I asked carefully. “Good to you?”
Ariana blinked at me. I swore I saw fear in her eyes before she smoothed it away with a practiced ease that made my stomach drop.
“Yes,” she said brightly. “Of course. He still is.”
But she didn’t look at me when she said it.
Lightning flashed in the distance, silent at first before a distant roll of thunder found us. Tourists and locals alike reacted with hurried movement, gathering their belongings, everyone ready to head inside a restaurant or shop or back to their cars.
But I was frozen, my breath stalled in my chest.
She’d married the idea of safety.
But maybe she didn’t feel safe at all.
“I followed the trial.”
My words had Ariana frozen now, her gaze stuck somewhere around my chest like she couldn’t look me in the eye.
“I was so proud of you,” I said, throat tight with the honesty. “The day of Jay’s conviction, I tried texting you.”
I could see it in real time, how Ariana was shutting down more and more with each word I said, but I couldn’t stop.
“It bounced. The text never went through. I tried calling, and it said the number was no longer in service.”
Another crack of lightning, and this time, close enough that the thunder rolled immediately. The wind picked up, blowing Ariana’s hair wildly.
I swallowed hard. “Ari… I hate how everything went down. I know you say it’s in the past, but I—” I paused, searching for breath that suddenly felt scarce. “I think about it. All the time. That day. Don’t you?”
A cloud passed over her expression just like the ones darkening the sky. She finally lifted her eyes to mine, and they might as well have been a knife to my kidney. “The day you left? There. I finished the thought for you. And no, I don’t think about it. I haven’t thought about it in years.”
Lie.
It was there in the way she tore her gaze from mine, in how she crossed her arms hard over her chest.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I tried.
“You always have a choice,” she shot back.
“I was trying to do what was best for you.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for letting me have a say in what that was.”
Thunder rumbled, and the sky opened.
“Great,” Ariana muttered, and then she was off.
“Ariana,” I started, but she was already walking again, steps furious and quick.
Rain fell in brutal, heavy sheets, so sudden it was like someone tipped the entire goddamn bay on top of us. Ariana broke into a run, sprinting for the nearest bridge, the paper bag in her hand quickly becoming soggy. I chased her, soaked instantly, water plastering my shirt to my chest.