She nods like she expected that.
“It didn’t work,” I say. “Neither of us said it, but every call ended with one of us crying or arguing or pretending we weren’t. He would work long hours and miss our virtual dates. He would try to come down here as often as he could, but he was saving up, and it was hard for him to get free time.
“Plus, I don’t know what was going on between him and his father, but he was constantly in a foul mood. He would always pretend things were okay. He would apologize, but nothing was changing. So, we decided to stop hurting each other.”
“And then?”
“I tried to move on,” I whisper. “Then one day, he showed up. He was having some issues with his father and said he didn’t know where else to go. So, I had stayed with him… and somehow, we fucked. The next day, he was gone.”
“Damn!”
“Yeah. This became his thing. He would leave. He would come back. And every time he did, we’d fall into the same pattern. We’d swear it was the last time. And then?—”
“You’d end up in bed together.”
I nod, humiliated. “It’s like a drug, Wren. I can’t resist it. He touches me and everything in me just… loses sense.”
Her fingers lace through mine. “That doesn’t make you weak. It means you loved him.”
I shake my head. “That’s not enough. That will never be enough. The last time we did that was after my aunt died. He came to the funeral. He was so sorry for everything that was going on. His mom was so supportive during that time, you know. I just… felt so alone. Iwasso alone.”
Her hand squeezes mine. “I wish I had been there with you.”
“Me too. But you were out of town chasing down your own dreams. Plus, you’re here now.”
“Always.”
“Anyway,” I shift a little just so I don’t press into her belly, “we did what we always did. We fucked. It had been so long since he had touched me. He ended up activating my heat. I’m not even sure what happened. I think the grief of it all overwhelmed my senses.
“This time, he stayed. He stayed the entire time. I thought to myself that this was it. He was almost done with his contract then, so I was sure he would come back, but at the tail end of everything, he started talking to me about selling the flower shop and moving to Portland with him.
“He was talking to me about starting a family, having children. Starting over. It hit me then that he didn’t know who the fuck I was, never took the time to understand how important this town was to me. So, we got into a fight… and he left.”
“That was the last time?”
“I wish. It happened one last time, but somehow I knew it was over. I spent the night in his bed, and I thought maybe he had come to his senses. Then, as Dorian always does, he left once again.”
“Fuck! That’s so fucked up.”
“It is. That’s why I’m telling you I know Dorian. He’s not staying. He said he’s not here permanently. He never wanted this town. And I… I’m not enough to make him want to stay.”
Wren frowns. “Who said you’re not enough?”
“He didn’t have to,” I whisper. “I know him. I know his ambition. I know he’ll leave again, and I’d rather not stitch myself back together another time. What happened last night can’t happen again. It just can’t. He’s here for Margaret. Let him handle that, and then when he leaves, I’ll be all good and dandy. I don’t need to catch feelings for someone who will wind up leaving me.”
She studies me for a long moment. Her tone softens, wraps around me like another blanket. “It seems like it hurts even more pretending nothing is happening.”
My throat tightens.
“And don’t you think you should talk to him?” she asks. “Especially since you’re gonna be working together at the community hall?”
I groan and drop my face into my hands. “Don’t remind me.”
Wren nudges my shoulder. “Norah.”
“What?”
“You can’t keep bleeding privately and pretending you’re fine publicly.”
