Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

“I’m in love with him.”

Noah blows out a cloud of smoke. His nod is a resigned one. Even if we stay in touch, it’s never going to be the same after this. My mind wanders through the life I could have had if Noah and I had gotten together. There would have been no interview with the nanny agency. We would have had a cheap apartment, but we wouldn’t spend much time there, because we’d be working. We’d go to dollar movies at the discount theater and constantly be checking our bank accounts, but we’d laugh. And dream. I might not have gone to college, in the end. I might not have fallen in love with him. I might have contented myself with what I had right in front of me.

“You’re never coming back, are you?”

No. Not like he means. I’ll never move back into my old apartment in Houston with plans to stay. I’m going to follow my dreams, and my dreams are bigger than that place.

“I’m sure I’ll visit.”

He laughs. “Don’t say that, Janie.”

“I’ll try to visit.”

Noah puts out his cigarette on the cracked sidewalk and looks me in the eye. “I hope he’s everything you want.”

“He is.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I can tell he’s hoping I’ll change my mind and go back to our old life with him. “You know, I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”

That’s the thing about making it anywhere you want to go. It takes other people. Without them, you just give up.

Noah pulls me in for a hug. It feels like the last hug he’ll ever give me. My throat goes tight with fear and love. He’s been like my brother. It hurts to lose him, but it would hurt more to wither away in my own life. His chest hitches.

“Does he at least have one of those fancy bathrooms with the decorative towels?”

“No.” A laugh bursts out of me. “His whole house burned down, remember?”

“Well, when he builds the new place, I hope there’s one of those in it. For you.”

“It takes a real friend to wish for a bathroom like that,” I tell him.

He releases me, and the two of us step back. The distance between us seems like a thousand miles. “We’ll always be friends.”

“I know.”

“You want me to wait for you?”

“What?” If he’s asking me about Houston, then no. He can’t spend his life waiting to see if I come running back. I’m not going to fail at this. “If you mean—”

He shakes his head. “For your car to get here.”

“Oh. Yeah. It would be pretty awkward if you just stood inside watching me.”

“Somebody has to do it,” he says in a long-suffering tone. But then he grins at me, and it’s the old Noah I met at the foster home. The one who snuck me food from the kitchen when it was strictly against the rules and protected me at the bus stop and everything else.

The two of us take seats at a wrought-iron patio set that’s rusty all over, and I order an Uber. I think the driver’s been hanging around waiting. The app says he’ll be here in two minutes. It doesn’t seem like enough time.

“Do you think you’ll still become a social worker?” he asks.

“Yes.” I really do think so. I’m not the kind of girl who spends all her time wishing anymore. I’m going to make it happen. “I’m going to do it all. College. My own practice. Everything.”

“Good.” The Uber pulls back into the motel parking lot. My heart pounds. This might be the last time I ever see him. Part of me is at peace with that. I never want Noah to feel like I’m rubbing this new life in his face. He stands up and hugs me again, and for the very last time, I let myself consider going back with him. Running away, right now. Get in the car, I would say. Let’s go. Anywhere.

It would make him happy, but it would make me sad. The only place I want to go is to wherever Beau is.

It’s time to get into the car. I open the back door and sit down, my hand on the handle. “Do you want a ride to the airport?” I can’t go with him, but we could share a ride. Steal a few more minutes. “We could wait for you to get your stuff.”

“I’ll get the next one,” he says. “Bye, Jane. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

He shuts the door and walks back to his motel door. As the car pulls away, he looks back over his shoulder at me and waves. I wave back. And then I’m gone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Beau Rochester

The meeting with Lauren and the FBI informant goes on longer than my patience. All I want is to get back to the inn, and back to Jane. The drive back doesn’t take much time. It’s still too long. I’ll be glad when all these meetings are over and everything is settled. Relieved, at least. Maybe not glad, depending on how everything goes.