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Especially because I don’t want to.
Chapter 42
Work
For the first time innearly two weeks, Noah woke up in his own bed. A horrendous week of bouncing between Matt’s apartment and the hospital had drained him. Added to that were the residual fatigue from Mexico and the stress of missing the first week of his summer job and classes.
Reaching for his phone, he was astonished to find it was nearly noon. Lame as his apartment and twin bed were, his body had recognized the familiar surroundings and surrendered to fourteen uninterrupted hours of sleep. He hadn’t even noticed when his roommate Wyatt came in or whether he had played video games half the night like usual.
Noah rolled onto his back and smiled at the ceiling as he stretched, feeling well-rested for the first time in ages. A growl from his stomach reminded him that he had chosen sleep over food last night, arriving home empty-handed to barren cupboards and a smelly fridge.
Dressing silently to prevent waking a still-sprawled-in-bed Wyatt, Noah snuck out of his room and into the kitchen to forage. Unfortunately, his roommates were as woefully understocked as he was, though the stinky, piled-high sink told him they’d definitely been eatingsomething. Finally, he unearthed a stray granola bar in the back of a drawer and, seeing that it was only a few months past its expiration, downed it in two bites. That would sustain him long enough for a grocery run.
He texted his mom for the latest update—Matt was doing fine and aiming to be home from the hospital in the next few days—and his eyes landed on the unnamed phone number below his mom’s text thread. He tapped it.
Hey, Noah.
I got your number from Jane. I hope you don’t mind too much. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. How is your brother? I’m so sorry about the accident. Praying for you and your family in this difficult time. Take care.
—Grace
Grace hadn’t texted back after his reply, but Noah hadn’t really expected her to, as aloof as he’d been in Mexico. As mean as he’d been in December. Apologizing could only go so far. Time would have to do the rest.
Heart pounding, he selected Add New Contact, input Grace’s name, and tapped Save.
His thoughts strayed to some advice he’d heard once about dating—something to the effect of becoming the kind of amazing person you would like to spend time with.
Who would want to spend time with Noah, as grumpy and withdrawn, sullen, and resentful as he was?
With a hmph of disgust and a surge of resolve, Noah scrolled through his contacts for the number he needed, hoping that he’d be able to get an appointment soon.
He had a lot of work to do.
Chapter 43
June Bride
If anyone deserves a perfectJune wedding day, it’s Ivy and Dave, and it looks to me like they have it. Blue sky, not too hot, lovely ceremony, lively reception. She is the quintessential June bride, he is completely smitten, and their confidence in each other envelops them. I’m so happy for them, I could cry.
It’s all I can do not to.
Nearly a month has passed since Mexico, consumed by work and wedding preparations. One would think I’ve been busy enough not to be preoccupied with pointless wonderings.
Thinking some food might keep the wallowing at bay, I make my way to the refreshment table on the pretext of checking stock. A grandmotherly woman in a sage wedding-party dress approaches, and I touch up my happy-to-be-here look.
“Would you mind?” she asks, glaring at the glass beverage dispenser. “I can’t twist that spigot for the life of me.”
“Of course not,” I say, noticing the swelling and displacement of her weathered knuckles as I take her cup.
“You must be Grace.” She watches me with too-perceptive eyes. “I’m Ivy’s nana.” Her soft, warm hands wrap around mine as I return her cup, the subtle scent of roses reaching my nose.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, remembering the stories Ivy shared about visiting her nana.
“Thank you for being such a friend to my Ivy. She’s told me how much you’ve helped her, how supportive you’ve been.”
Whether from the warmth of her hands or her words, I’m blinking rapidly and losing ground fast.
Nana’s brows furrow over her blue eyes, but her lips hold a soft smile. “It’s hard letting go, isn’t it? Always easier to leave than to be left behind.”
