I don’t see the semitruck until it’s too late.
Chapter 17
Lily
Tires screech as Noah yanks the wheel to the right. Gravel sprays up onto the side of his truck while he fights to keep the car under control and slides into the soft shoulder of the road.
Holy hell!My stomach bottoms out as the pickup finally stops. The semi roars past, its horn echoing as it escapes behind us.
My hand grips the dash above the glove box, and I pant, glancing toward Noah who’s wide-eyed and grips the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him together. I don’t miss the tremble in his arms. He shakes, his eyes scan me and look in the rearview at Max, who’s laid down, anxious.
I swallow the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I bit my cheek when he swerved, yet it could’ve been so much worse.
My heart won’t stop racing—not only from the near accident, but the words I admitted to him. I hadn’t told anyone since the police station. Since the day it happened. I thought the female deputy I talked to was caring. She listened to my story, was sympathetic even. I sat there, cold and violated, at a steel table on a hard chair recounting my story, and the only thing she did was go get the sheriff.Hisfather.
“Lily.” Noah’s voice is hoarse, but it’s above a whisper and urgent. “Are you okay?”
My mouth opens, then closes again. I don’t know—I search for something that sounds like an answer, but nothing comes.Physically I’m fine, but the fact I just told Noah I was … Now he’ll only see me as broken. Used. Washed up and weak.
My chest rises and falls in time with the truck’s humming engine, and I can’t quite catch my breath.
Guilt washes out Noah’s expression, and terrified, he brushes my forearm, gently shaking it. “Lily! Please, talk to me. Did you hit your head? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I finally say. Why does he care so much?
His eyes sweep over me, roaming—like he’s unconvinced and searching for the lie. Both his hands interlock over his head, and he lets out a shaky sigh. “God, Lily, I almost?—”
His voice cracks, and I ignore the desire to climb into his lap, to wrap my arms around him.
“You didn’t,” I reassure him. I wince at the pained looked on his face and snatch his hand, threading my fingers through his. “You didn’t.”
“If anything happened to you …” His words trail off, and my mind fills them in.
If anything happened to me, you’d be better off. Rid of the thorn in your side. I don’t know why you’re wasting time with me, especially after I just told you my darkest secret.
Why did I blurt that out? Some part of me wants him to know, and I’m not sure why. I’ve never wanted to tell anyone before. My family doesn’t know—willneverknow.
His fingers close over mine, in a way I don’t deserve, and I realize, right then, I trust Noah with my life.
I push the smoothie across the kitchen table and slap a ten-dollar bill down. “Ten bucks says you won’t drink this.”
Ms. Sullivan looks at me, her weak eyebrows twitching slowly. She lifts the spinach, strawberry, and banana smoothie I made this morning to her mouth, taking a tentative sip.
It’s been two and half weeks since Noah and I went to the garage and the subsequent events that happened afterward. After the almost accident, he drove me to his mother’s house and helped me carry the groceries up the pathway from the truck. He stayed for dinner but was quiet most of the night. I didn’t feel like saying much either. What was there to say?
He’s been great the past couple of weeks, carving out time from his own schedule to take me to the diner. It almost makes me mad. He’s acting like we didn’t just have a couple-sized fight, despite the fact wearen’ta couple, and he’s clearly walking on eggshells around me now. He drops me off for work, says little, and barely sets foot inside once we’re home. He’s more ghost than presence these days.
I knew he’d look at me differently—I even wrote about it.
Moreover, and I never thought I’d say this, I miss Max.
Oddly, the desire to speak with my mom about it weighs on me. I’m guessing she’d be just as shocked as I am that I miss a dog.
“It tastes like shit.” Ms. Sullivan breaks me from my thoughts.
Well, hell.
Still, she sucks back the green goop that honestly looks a bit brown at this point, and I’m happy. The change has beensubtle yet undeniable. Each day, another piece of her strength is stripped away, leaving behind a woman frailer and less herself.
