Noah Adler—or Davis Keller—has shattered me, and I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.
“It hurts so much,” I eke out as she snuggles in closer, shifting her body to lie with me.
“I know,” she says gently as she just holds me, as if I’m the most fragile object she’s ever touched.
But I suppose I am. This isn’t just heartache. This is grief. Sorrow over a life I once dreamed of lost.
I don’t know how long I cry, but eventually I fall back to sleep, dreaming of the only thing I desperately want to forget—Noah, on one knee, asking me to marry him.
I’m awake. I don’t know if it’s day or night, but I hear hushed voices. This time I don’t risk opening my eyes, because I already know what happens when I do.
“You should call the adoption people, those detectives, and see if they can look into him,” my mom whispers.
“I don’t know if that’s what they do,” my dad responds.
“Stephen, this is your daughter,” she rushes out a little louder. “You saw the apartment.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Camilla. I am just as mad as you are. He’s clearly fucked up and someone none of us truly knew. Jesus, I gave him my damn blessing and he—”
Evie shushes them, and my heart begins to pick up pace.What happened at the apartment?
My chest begins to tremble because as ridiculous as it sounds, I don’t think I want to know any more information. I’m not sure I could handle it.
Still, somewhere back in the recesses of my mind, that headline pulses like a neon light. But if the universe allows me any kindness, it’ll be to leave me in the goddamn dark and let me believe I loved someone who’d only lied about his name. And not force me to admit I missed every red flag and fell for someone who ...
I can’t even think it. I immediately push the thought away before it gets its claws in.
Fuck that article—it’s enough that I know we were a lie.
“Why do we need to find out more information about him?” Evie whispers. “We know enough. He lied about who he is for a year ... I don’t care if he’s running from the law or wanted in several countries.”
“That’s exactly why weshoulddig. We’ll keep it between us,” my mom insists. “She could be in danger.”
My dad huffs. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He’s probably just a grifter or a con man. I saw a documentary about this kind of stuff.”
“Oh my god, Dad,” Evie groans. “Regardless, I agree with Mom. Let’s keep this between the three of us. We can all agree she’s been through enough. And trust me, Mom, he’s not getting near her. It’ll be over my dead body. Or his.”
“Evie,” our mom admonishes.
“What? She’s destroyed, and that’s on him. So, RIP.”
“Agreed,” my father whispers too loudly again.
The thing I hate most about this conversation is the innate need I feel to defend Noah.Not Noah, Davis.
He lied, yet I still love him. I love him down to the depths of my bones, which makes me hate myself because I’m a traitor to my own self. That’s actually the worst part about his deceit. I’ve been left with nobody to trust, not even my own self.
I roll over and pull the blanket over my face. I gradually hear the conversation die before sleep takes me again.
“If you let me, I’ll spend Saturday afternoons trying to beat you at checkers and rainy days being your human coloring book. I’ll never watch past the last episode of any show we binge. And I’ll make it a point to kiss you silly every day of our lives.”
It’s two in the morning.
The only reason I know is because the first thing I did was check my phone when I woke up. I wish it hadn’t been to see if Noah had texted me or called, but it was. And he didn’t.
I sit up in bed, not remembering how I got here as I swallow hard because my throat’s so dry. My face shifts right to see my sistersleeping beside me, then to my left, where I see a bottle of water on the nightstand.
With a quiet exhale I pick it up. As I turn the cap, the crack feels louder than it is because of the silence, so I stop and try to twist it slower as I look over at Evie.