Page 47 of Love Notes & Lifelines
“Let me make sure I understand.” Even though my tone is gentle, it’s now apparent how close we’re standing, so I reluctantly step back. It’s no small feat either because my entire body is charged when she’s near. “You put yourself out there to stick your nose into something that could have gotten you in trouble because ‘it was the right thing to do’?”
“Yes.” Her nose scrunches up the second the word leaves her lips. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same. You did it because you’re a good person. Just like Teddy. Just like Elijah, the double-crossing asshat.”
She winces. “He wasn’t expecting this to happen either. He was honestly trying to help me and…he?—”
“Elijah knows your secrets.” Though my tone is light, my stomach clenches as if it’s trying to heave.
“It’s different.”
“How?”
“He and Samira happened to show up at my apartment one day when I needed help.”
Now my entire body tenses. “Are you in danger?”
What does that mean for the girls? For me? For her?
Her hair swishes side to side when she shakes her head adamantly. “No, I wouldn’t be here with the girls if I were.”
I don’t quite believe her. She may not be in physical danger, but there’s something—something she refuses to tell me that has fear rolling through my airway. There’s no doubt she’d protect the girls, but would she protect herself?
“Then tell me who hit you.”
She bites her lip when her chin trembles. “If I tell you, you have to promise to drop it after.”
“Fine.” We both hear the lie. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll allow her to be in danger.
She fidgets with her wrist and her shoulders curl in. “Do you promise?”
I lift my brows but don’t utter a word.
“It was my mom, but it’s not her fault. It was a misunderstanding.” The words spill out in a rush and her hands ball into fists. I take an involuntary step forward. Comforting her is engrained deep, but I stop myself from reaching for her. This goddamn relationship is messy as hell.
You don’t do relationships.Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.
“So the house is clean,” she continues quickly. “The girls are packed, and I’ll be back in the morning at eight.” Then she spins to face the dishes again and says over her shoulder, “I’ve never been to the Outer Banks, so I’ll bring a few things and switch them out when I return on Saturday if I need to.”
“Sailport Bay is very laid back and beachy. You and the girls will love it,” I say, attempting to drown out the wild thoughts in my head—the ones screaming about relationships and relations and nannies and parenthood.
My life is a fucking Judd Apatow film.
Stella pauses her attack on the dishwasher and places a hand on her hip. She’s the flame and I’m the moth, drawn to her in unimaginable ways. I lean against the counter, facing her, but even leaving the open dishwasher between us, there’s a gravitational pull to be in her orbit.
“Then why don’t you like Sailport Bay? Elijah told me you haven’t been home in years.”
“Elijah has a big mouth.”
She waits expectantly, and I give a halfhearted shrug. Stella Jane is a sorcerer pulling truths from me before I’m ready.
“I haven’t been back to Sailport Bay because I have a feeling the memories that haunt that house are not good ones. After my relationship with Cally crumbled, there was nothing left there for me.”
Her lashes flutter wildly, and her eyes showcase her sadness—but it’s not just hers. She carries sadness on my behalf, and I don’t know what to make of that. No one but Elijah has done anything on my behalf since my mother died.
“Um, I’m sorry to hear that.” She takes a step forward, then pauses as though she wants to say more, but shakes her head. “That’s really terrible, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” When I don’t respond, she offers an awkward wave. “Um, I’ll see you in the morning then.”
She slips along the counter and away from me, but I jingle a set of keys.
