Page 97 of The Lilac River

Chapter 36

Misunderstood – Bon Jovi

Nash

Walking up to the school reception desk, I shook out my hands and took a deep breath. The day Loretta left Bertie with me, the day she walked away, I’d been petrified. Not nervous. Petrified. Scared down to the bone that I was going to do something wrong, like drop her on her head or feed her the wrong thing and screw it all up.

This, though, preparing to talk to Lily about a future we could still have, was the single scariest thing I’d ever faced. And that wasn’t a feeling I admitted often.

My usual confidence was glaringly absent. Probably because deep down, I knew this might be my last chance to put things right. If I let too much time fester between us, if I let the hurt harden, we’d never find our way back.

And, God, the sadness I'd seen on her face the night before? That was worse than any anger she could have thrown at me. Sadness lingers. It roots itself.

Clearing my throat, I approached the desk. I prayed Suki wasn’t feeling chatty, small talk was the last thing I could handle.

“Oh, hi, Nash,” she chirped. “Did Bertie forget her lunchbox?”

“No, uh, actually, it’s Miss. Gray I needed to see,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “If that's okay. I know she’s in class, but... I don’t know when I'll get another chance.” I shifted my weight awkwardly. “Just needed to ask her something about Bertie’s reading.”

It sounded weak even to my own ears. I hadn’t thought it through. I just knew I had to see her.

“I’m sorry, Nash, but she’s gone.”

My stomach dropped. “Gone?” I rasped. “You mean she left?”

Suki laughed lightly. “No, no, she just went home sick. She wasn’t feeling well all morning. Miss. Turner’s covering her class if you want to talk to her.”

“N-no, no, it's fine. It was something I needed to ask Miss. Gray directly... about Bertie’s... um… books.” I sounded like a goddamn idiot.

Suki smiled kindly and started scribbling on a sticky note. “I’ll jot down her email address for you.”

I took the note, even though there was no chance I was going to send a damn email. I wasn’t apologizing to Lily over a keyboard.

“I hope she’s okay,” Suki added. “Her mom and grandma are out of town for a few days.”

My head snapped up. “She’s home alone?”

“Mmm-hmm. Poor Lily. I offered to check in on her after school, but Miss. Turner said she would.” Suki kept talking, but I’d already tuned out.

I knew exactly where I was headed.

The small white weatherboard house looked just the way it always had. The paint was more faded now, the front porch a little more weathered, but it was still homey. Still hers.

The tubs of flowers flanking the red front door were bright and stubborn, thriving even under the brutal sun. A perfect metaphor, if I ever saw one.

I parked at the curb and killed the engine, sitting there for a beat as the truck ticked quietly.

The memories hit me hard. The nights spent under that porch light. Her kisses. Her dreams whispered into my skin. It had never really stopped feeling like sacred ground.

"Get a grip, Nash," I muttered, pushing out into the heat.

The world was scorched and dry, like the storm that had roared through the night before had never even happened.

I walked up the steps and knocked. Half of me expected her not to answer. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she shouldn’t.

But then the door creaked open, and there she was.

“Nash,” she said, startled. Barefoot. Flushed. A too-big T-shirt slipping off one sun-kissed shoulder, those little denim shorts hugging her hips like a goddamn secret.

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