Credence

“You can ask me about him, you know?” he says in a low voice.

I drop my eyes, not saying anything. I’m desperate to hear anything about Kaleb.

And not. He’s obviously alive, so he’s eating, sleeping, and breathing just fine without me, even though some days I feel like my insides are on the outside.

“Dad says he left for the fishing cabin after you left, and he’s been gone ever since.”

I shake my head. “Let’s not talk about him.” I look up, meeting Noah’s eyes. “What about you? Are you happy?”

He looks down at me, and I wonder why it couldn’t be him.

He’s so easy to love.

“Do you resent me?” I whisper when he doesn’t answer.

He hoods his eyes, a gentle smile curling his lips. “You were right, Tiernan,” he says. “I was in love but with something else.”

Racing.

“I have my future now,” he tells me. “I’m really happy.”

I lay my head down again, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding for months.

Laying his head over mine, he kisses my hair and we watch the ocean.

“He loves you to death, you know?” he says.

Needles prick my throat as a tear spills down my cheek. “He’s still in that car, Noah.”

Tiernan

Noah heads back to the extended-stay hotel he’s paying through the nose for to gather his things, while I return to the house to prepare a room for him. His sponsor is based somewhere outside of Chicago, so Noah might be traveling a lot, but they also have a branch of their business here, so this will be home-base when he’s in town.

We spent the rest of the day walking and talking, and after lunch, I took him to one of my father’s favorite tailors to get him suited for any dressy occasions that might pop up in the future with his new adventure. By the time we were done, it was late. We ate dinner, he went back to his place to sleep and pack up his things to check out tomorrow, and I came home.

I’ve had the bed replaced in my parents’ old room, so I’ll put him in there, since it has a private bathroom. I don’t need to take the chance of running into an overnight guest, should he choose to have one.

“You should be shot!” I hear Mirai scream as I enter the house.

I stop, pausing before gently closing the door as I listen. What the hell?

“Whoever designed this room should be shot,” Jake spits back. “These drapes look like the same shit that lines caskets.”

Jake? My heart lifts a little more. He’s here, too.

“Ugh!” she growls.

Something crashes, shattering across the floor, and I tiptoe through the foyer and hide behind the wall to the sitting room.

“Whoops!” Jake says. “There goes a candy dish. Probably three-hundred dollars and never used, either, because this house hasn’t seen a carb since 2002.”

I snort, but I cover my mouth, so they don’t know I’m here.

“Leave,” she says.

“No.”

“I’ll call the police!”