She didn’t soften.
He stepped back onto the porch, the late evening air suddenly cooler against his skin.
Grace met his eyes one last time. “Goodbye, Luke.”
The door closed between them with a soft, final click.
Luke stood there for a second longer than necessary, staring at the plexiglass he’d left on her porch. Then he turned and walked down the steps, the sound of his boots loud in the quiet.
As he reached his cruiser, the hammering started up again.
Luke climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door harder than he needed to. He pulled out of the driveway. Down the street, the dark sedan was still there.
He drove past, jaw clenched, thoughts circling too fast and too sharp for comfort.
He wasn't going to be an idiot about this.
She’ll come around.
The thought arrived without its usual certainty, but Luke grabbed onto it anyway.
She was smart. She understood how this town worked. Once the pride faded and the practicality set back in, she'd see that what they'd had was good. Better than good. And he could give her more of it—he could make more of an effort, take her somewhere nice, somewhereoutsideCrystal Lake where they could just?—
He turned onto Main.
She’ll come around,he told himself again.
He didn't examine why it felt, underneath, like something he was holding together with both hands.
CHAPTER 15
Grace
The house didn’t feelbroken anymore.
Boarded up, yes. Temporary in places where it used to be solid. But not broken.
Grace stood at the kitchen sink, staring out at the door, the plywood over the window a dull rectangle.
The kettle whistled, sharp and sudden, and she jumped.
Her body had finally stopped buzzing with adrenaline, but she was still on edge.
She poured hot water over the tea bag and carried the mug to the small table by the window.
Grace wrapped both hands around the mug and breathed in the steam.
Tomorrow was another day. She would stand in front of all those small humans who trusted her to be steady. She could do that. She had done harder things.
From the living room came the low sound of the television—Eli watching a late-night baseball recap, giving her space. He’d always been good at that. Terrible at lots of things, but good at this.
Grace glanced down the hallway, toward the closed front door.
Luke had stood there earlier. Had filled the doorway with his body and his masculine confidence, his infuriating assumption that she needed him.
Like he was entitled to access because he’d brought tools instead of apologies.
She exhaled slowly.
