She still ached for him. She still wanted him. She still craved his nearness and his touch. She missed him in her life.
The truth was, she didn’t regret the life she’d lived with Beth these past fifteen years; yet she couldn’t ignore the part of her that regretted walking away from the life she could have led with Thomas—the home they would have shared, the children they would have had. She knew deep within her that she could not have had both, though.
She could not have been the friend Beth needed had she dedicated herself to Thomas; she could not have been the wife Thomas deserved if she was devoting her time to her dearest friend.
Her choice had haunted her every day and night for years as her constant reminder that, no matter who she chose and what she’d decided to do with her life, someone would have been hurt.
And Nora lost either way.
She resumed pacing her room, balancing along the familiar striped pattern of the thick rug and counting the fifteen steps from one wall to the other, willing herself to feel the first tickle of fatigue but knowing it was futile.
Especially now that Thomas would be returning to her home in the morning whether or not she wanted him to.
The notion released a flock of pigeons in her abdomen—butterflies would have been far more elegant, but their fragile wings couldn’t possibly have created the roiling rocking of her stomach. This couldn’t be a good sign.
Nora knew she should bar the door against him in the morning, don her blackest mourning frock, and wallow in darkness. But Beth—Nora’s eyes darted over to the sealed letter—Beth would think it all a grand adventure and be the first totell her she’d be a fool not to experience it. She could practically feel Beth’s hands on her shoulders as they shoved her out the door and told her not to come back until her sides ached from laughter, her face hurt from smiling, and her heart was full of the joy of adventure.
Nora wondered when she would be able to think of her friend and not experience the painful sting of tears in her nose and behind her eyes.
Ifshe’d ever reach that point.
Nora closed her eyes and sighed.
Do it, Nora.
Her eyes snapped open to see the first rays of sunlight edging through the gap between her parted curtains. She didn’t recall falling asleep, nor did she re-member any dreams she had, which was odd because she’d always been such a vivid dreamer.
She experienced the oddest tingling sensation dancing across her skin—the kind when some primal sense knew you were being watched before your mind processed the information. Sitting up in bed, she looked around her room.
The fire had died down to banked glowing coals coughing up nothing more than red and orange flickers. Dawn’s fingers cut a hazily illuminated swath across her desk and the bed before striking the door. She was alone. Her gaze drifted back to Beth’s letter on her desk. The cream envelope almost seemed to glow in the morning light.
Chapter Three
Thomas strode up the front steps of Nora’s Townhouse, his palms damp and his heart pounding like a green lad about to call upon his first sweetheart.
“Stop,” he berated himself for the umpteenth time. “It’s only Nora.”
But that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it?This wasNora.
He inhaled the crisp air deeply before releasing the breath in a very slow, calculated exhalation. The air smelled heavily of rain; thick clouds filled the sky as a carryover from the prior night’s drizzle. In all, it was a dreary English Fall day. Were this any other woman or any other circumstances, Thomas might have sent a note of regret and a promise to reschedule. But he knew both he and Nora needed this.
This mission was about more than spending the day out of doors; both of them needed space from their grief—to both honor and Beth and have a taste of what life might be withouther. They needed to break out of the routines that had made up their lives these past many years and try something new.
Learning to live without Beth would be agonizing…but Thomas knew he just might survive it if he had Nora there by his side.
Steeling his resolve, he raised his hand and knocked upon the door.
Just when he thought she might choose not to answer and would leave him to stand like an imbecile pining after a woman who did not want him (for all he knew, that was precisely the case), Nora opened the door herself. Despite the drabness of her mourning attire, she was still quite the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. Her chestnut hair was plaited and pinned to her head in a style that was likely intended to be severe, but Thomas appreciated it for the way it revealed her gorgeous features and the graceful curve of her neck. Her eyes were clear and less puffy than the last time he saw her; he took that as a good sign. Her dress was a flat black fabric with a dark organza overlay on the skirts. She wore a matching spencer with black braided frog closures and dark grey kid gloves.
Yet, she glowed.
“It is nice to know your promptness has held up over the years,” she said, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.
Thomas had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Are you answering your own door now? What has happened to the staff?” Yesterday, he’d been able to enter the home unannounced and now this?
“They have leave through the end of the week,” Nora explained as she grabbed her reticule from the small table in the entryway and locked the door behind them. “I was not supposed to return to Town for another fortnite.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t care for the idea of you alone in this house.”
