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“You know what? So am I.” The emptiness of his expression when he glanced up didn’t only sting. No, it branded her.
“Will, it was an innocent comment. One I regret.”
“It wasn’t a comment. It was a lie. And it hurts.” This time he caught her gaze, and his disappointment colored every bit of his handsome face. “I thought I knew you better than this. But you know what? I don’t. I know nothing about you. Not really. I know you don’t like water, and I know the little crumbs of information you’ve tossed my way. What are you so afraid I’m going to find out?”
Where would she even begin? She didn’t want him to know so much, didn’t want him to remember.
“Lies of omission are still lies,” he said when she didn’t respond. His words were a direct hit that didn’t only burn, they cut.
She always sought out the truth and hated lies. William had paid attention to her in a way she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. No one had ever handled her with such care. He was genuinely compassionate toward her.
And she’d ruined it.
“I’m going for a hike.” The tone William used was neutral, like he didn’t care.
She couldn’t let him go alone. Not this upset. Not when it was her fault. Not when he had literally saved her life. “Can I come?”
He shrugged. Then he nodded.
She nipped her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll grab my shoes.”
Clearly, he was done pursuing her. And she could absolutely understand his reasons.
Good. It would be done. They would be done.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In hindsight, wearing her Converse tennis shoes on the lake that morning was a bad idea. They were soaked. Unwearable. Which left her orange Hawaiian-print flip-flops. Looked like she was hiking in flip-flops.
She found William on one of the planked cedar benches. He leaned back against the outside wall of the cabin, his ankle crossed over his knee.
Lucy’s heart lodged in her throat. “Hey.” She took a step forward, unsure what else to say.
William had always treated her warmly, but this time he only gave a sad nod. His gaze didn’t meet hers.
“I’ll carry the backpack.” He took the bag from her shoulder, avoiding any skin on skin contact before he slipped it over the strong muscles of his back.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
She shuffled a few steps behind him in awkward silence, a nagging quiet that tugged at their time together.
William turned left at a fork in the trail.
“Did you get a map?” The words stuck thick in her throat.
He continued forward, as if unfazed by her question. “Don’t need one. The trail goes around the lake, looping back to the lodge.”
“I know it’s against man code to carry a map, but maybe we should turn back and get one before we get too far on the trail.” Her big toe snagged on a jagged stone, scuffing the skin so a drop of blood pooled at the nail. It began to throb. Head down, she scanned the ground to avoid rocks.
When he stopped two steps ahead, she stumbled into him. He reached to steady her; his expression unreadable.
“Right, we don’t need a map.” She gripped the soles of her shoes with her toes to keep herself steady.
His gaze met hers with gentle ease. It lasted only a moment before that expression of indifference she hated so much snapped back into place. This wasn’t right at all. From the day at the gas station when her window had broken to the game of Confessions at the cabin, he had constantly given bits of himself to her. Now, for the first time in his presence, loneliness crept in. So afraid of sharing too much, she had rationed the information she gave him. He hadn’t been wrong when he said she dodged his questions. A lot.
She couldn’t unwind the past, but she could push herself.
Trust him.
