Another hour passes. I walk around his apartment, looking through drawers, searching for any clues. I find a lighter and rolling papers. I’m concerned, but I remember what he said about Marley and pot. Would that have changed after the military? I don’t know. I find a business card for Fletcher Properties. Could he have gone to work?
I don’t know what he does in real estate, but maybe he’s on a deadline? He was asleep when I arrived… Maybe he’d planned to pull an all-nighter?
My fingers hover over the keypad on my phone, ready to dial when I hear a noise at the door. With a sharp inhale, I turn to see him walking into the apartment. He’s still wearing the clothes he had on last night—faded jeans and a long-sleeved tee. Not exactly work attire… Although, I guess if he was the only one in the office.
He straightens when he sees me and clears his throat, turning into the kitchen area. “Hey.”
“Hey…” I watch him, wondering if he’s avoiding me. “I tried to call.”
“Oh, yeah?” He lifts his phone and his eyebrows quirk.
“Are you okay?” Closing the space between us, I catch his arm. “What’s going on? Where did you go?”
“It’s not your business.”
“I think it is.” My voice is sharper than I intend. I’m struggling with residual fear mixed with frustration mixed with this ache in my chest.
He’s agitated, suddenly frustrated, and pulls his hand away. “I didn’t ask you to come here, Noel. Just the opposite, in fact.”
I’m stunned by his words. They feel like a stab in the chest after last night. Or I guess after the few hours we spent together last night. Now that I think about it, after I fell asleep, I don’t know what he did.
“I was worried about you. Sawyer said you were hurt. Something’s clearly wrong.”
“I was hurt.” His eyes flash, and I realize I’ve never seen him angry. It’s scary. “I’m always in pain now. Do you know what that’s like? Every move radiating agony through your body?”
His voice is a knife, and my eyes heat. I blink quickly. “No… I don’t. What can I do? Let me help you.”
“You can’t help me. No one can.” His jaw clenches, and I see a sheen of perspiration on his lip. “You need to go home.”
Another flash of anguish spreads through my chest. I’m having trouble breathing. “Would you at least tell me what happened? The last time we talked, you were going for Marley, then—”
“Then everything changed.” He leans forward and grips the table. The blood drains from his cheeks, and I can see he’s hurting.
“Taron—”
Inhaling sharply he leaves the room, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. I wait, listening as he opens the medicine cabinet. I hear the noise of pills shaking in a bottle, water running, then silence. My insides are so tight. My eyes are damp. My heart is breaking.
After several minutes, the door opens, and he’s calmer. His muscles seem relaxed. He’s more like he was last night, only with a dark shadow following him. “We can’t be together, Noel. I’m not the same man I was before. This is my life now.”
“What?” My voice cracks higher. “What is your life now? Tell me!”
“Pain…” He growls, moving slowly across the room to the sofa and lowering himself carefully. “Pain. And drugs.”
Blue-green eyes flash to mine, as if he’s daring me to judge him.
I collapse to my knees at his feet, holding him, begging. “Taron, just let me try—”
“No!” He shouts, cutting me off. His eyes close, and the muscle in his jaw flexes as he inhales slowly, exhales and stares straight into my eyes, jaw clenched. “I want you to go home, Noel. I want you to leave.”
My insides crumble. “I can’t do that…” My voice breaks on my tears, but he grips my upper arms hard, dragging me to my feet.
“Yes. You. Can.”
“You’re hurting me.” Tears stream down my cheeks, and I see the break in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
“When I get back. I want you gone.” He releases me with a little shove. His brow lowers, and he turns away, going to the door. “Find someone who deserves you. It’s not me.”
“It is—”