Page 20 of Love Story

I turned back.

“I’m sorry I mentioned he who should not be named.”

“It’s all good.”

But as I stepped out into the cold air, the scent of chocolate still clinging to me, I wasn’t thinking about my wannabee cheating big-city ex.I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Haider, who wasn’t okay, no matter what he said.

Sooner or later, he’d have to tell one of us.

Then, as I drove back, somehow, Ben had crept into my thoughts—how he met my gaze with that mix of uncertainty and quiet strength.Something about his vulnerability stuck with me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake him from my mind.

God damn it.

I wasn’t doing this big-city, small-town thing again.

No.Way.

IT TOOK ANOTHERthree full days before Aunt Harriet went for the jugular.She’d allowed me to hang around in my room, and apart from the visit to the grocery store, I hadn’t explored any more of Caldwell Crossing.She’d commented on how tired I looked—I told her I was okay, and didn’t mention dreams or the overriding worry that I was heading for prison.

Stay positive.Enjoy staying here.Relax.

Only today, I’d run out of Aunt Harriet’s caring patience.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I paused mid-bite.“For today?”

“Yes.And no.”She set her mug down, folding her hands neatly in front of her.“What will you do here in town?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here.Maybe a few more weeks if that’s okay.”

She smiled.“The apartment is yours for as long as you need it.But what about your time here?Do you need to find work?”

“Not yet.I’m okay for money to cover rent here, and —”

“That’s not why I asked, and I won’t be taking your money.”

“That’s not—”

“No argument.”

“Then you need to let me…” I glanced around at her pristine house and through the window to her cared-for yard.“… help around here.”

“You can fix my back fence,” she announced.

I blinked at her.“Okay.Sure.”

I’d never done DIY, fixed a faucet, painted a wall, or rebuilt a fence, but that was whatYouTubewas for, right?

Her gaze drifted to the book I’d taken from my pocket and laid on the table, the one I’d been reading to quieten my mind.On the Lake’s Edgewas the latest thriller from Adam Nelson and the one I had all the issues with.

She picked it up, turning it over.“You’re never far away from a book.”

“Never.”

“Is this a good one?”

At last, a non-personal question I could answer.I’d always loved reading, sinking into a story, and letting it pull me out of my head for a while.

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