But sorry isn't enough.
Nick was right—actions matter more than words, more than promises, more than good intentions.I close my eyes and make a promise to the night air: I won't leave again.Not this time.Not even if it kills me to stay.
When I finally go back inside, Nora is waiting for me by the entrance to the terrace, concern written across her beautiful face.
"How did that go?"she asks softly.
"A snowball has a better chance in hell," I admit, running a hand through my hair."But at least now I know what I'm dealing with."
She slips her hand into mine, her fingers warm and steady."What do you need?"
The question is simple, but it undoes me a little.Because she's not asking what I want or what I think I should do.She's asking what I need, and the difference matters.
"Time," I say finally."And maybe a really good plan."
Her smile is small but fierce.
"Well, I’m here when you need help with either."
Looking at her, surrounded by the warmth and light of the party, I realise the hard work is just beginning.But for the first time in a long time, I'm not running away from it.
I'm running toward it.
CHAPTER13
THE FEARS WE DON’T FACE
NORA
The leather seatsin Camilla's Mercedes are sticky against my thighs as we drive through Eden's streets.It's actually warm today and the air con isn't doing much.Three days since Nate got back, and we're basically acting like teenagers sneaking around—stolen kisses when no one's looking, holding hands under the dinner table like we're fourteen.
We don't want to make Kat and Nick's wedding about us, plus Jake looked like he wanted to murder someone at the engagement dinner, so we're keeping it quiet for now.
The wedding planning is chaos.
Lydia's been running around with clipboards and color-coded schedules, but in the best way.Like she's finally figured out she's actually good at this stuff without needing someone to tell her every five minutes.
"Right," Camilla says, drumming her nails on the steering wheel at a red light."How are you doing?Like, actually."
I look at her properly.She's got that look—the one that means she's not buying whatever bullshit I'm about to feed her.
"I'm good," I say, and I mostly mean it."Really."
The light goes green but she doesn't move.
"The nightmares?"
"Haven't had any," I lie, then immediately cave because I'm rubbish at lying to her."Actually, that's a lie.Being back here hasn’t helped.But they’re not getting alarmingly worse.That’s got to count for something, right?"
"Are you still seeing Dr.Henshaw?"
"Cam, I'm fine.Sleeping better too, it's just some nights they come back."
Which is true, I am sleeping better but only because Nate's been sneaking into my room most nights.And the nights he’s not there, that’s when they start to resurface again.
Not that I'm telling her that.
"You're going red."
