20
This was hell.
Noah stood by his little pond listening to a territorial cardinal call out a warning. It was bitter cold, and he had his hands stuffed in his pockets because he'd forgotten gloves. His cane hung from his wrist.
The skin on his face felt frozen, but it was the block of ice inside his chest that made him want to cry out.
It'd been a week since he'd talked to Jilly on the phone, and, if anything, the black hole inside of him had gotten bigger.
He ached for her.
For the barely-there smile he could hear in her voice. The soft catch of breath that meant she was surprised. The softness of her hand entwined in his.
He was dying, even though his lungs kept breathing and his heart kept beating.
He’d spent as much time as he could outdoors. Being away from the house meant he couldn't hear if Jilly or Lindsey or PJ knocked. He also avoided the temptation of his phone. Jilly had left him two more voicemails. He hadn't played them. He hadn't been able to make himself delete them, either.
He'd thought he was heartbroken when Callum and Cord left town after graduation night. That was nothing compared to this.
He'd let Jilly in, except there was noletabout it. She'd found the tiniest crack in his wall and levered it open.
He'd fallen in love with her.
And now, he was getting what he deserved. Somebody who'd done what he'd done didn't deserve to be with someone like Jilly.
Lindsey and PJ needed her. Even Casey, who reminded him of the boy he'd been in middle school. Lost and afraid and desperate for someone to want him.
Jilly would be good for all three of them. She'd change their lives.
And if she was in a relationship with Noah, she wouldn't have a chance. He'd heard the social worker. Jilly didn't need any more strikes against her.
Things were better this way.
But knowing that didn't stop the hurt.
