28. Nova
“How many times?”
Reid and I stare at each other, laying in his bed on our stomachs, both of us exhausted from a day’s work and then the triathlon he took me through in the shower, the floor, then eventually, the bed. My body is spent and sleep pulls at the tattered edges of my brain since I haven’t slept well the last two nights.
“How many times what?”
“How many times?” he repeats, his eyes glinting like two black jewels in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp. His gaze darkens, an eeriness in those eyes I haven’t seen before.
It dawns on me, then, what he wants.
I’m just not sure how to tell him.
“Not a lot. A handful. And never too extensive.”
“Nova, once is too much.”
“I know,” I shrug. “I just know others have it worse.”
Reid shakes his head, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. He’s quiet for a moment, calculating, but I don’t know why. It’s not as if he can bring Jack back from the dead to protect me. Were Jack still alive, I might not even want his protection.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me, Reid.”
His cold stare meets mine and for a moment, panic wells in my chest. But I realize this anger is not aimed at me. It’s at Jack and he’s not here right now.
“I don’t.” I wince at his bluntness, but I understand it. Kind of.
“Jack wasn’t always like that. The last six months were the hardest. I don’t know what, but something broke in him and from there, it felt like we were lost in a mineshaft that was slowly collapsing.”
Reid watches me, eyes studying me. For what, I don’t know, but since I’ve started, I decide I may as well tell him everything. He’ll be gone in September. I’ll never see him again. What could it hurt to tell this person who is a future stranger what dragged my marriage down by the ankles?
“I found out he was talking to Sophie on the phone . . . texting her. If he cheated physically, I don’t want to know, but I do know they were too close. He leaned on her, instead of me, and I think that’s why I hate her so much. Her mother tore my parents apart and then, she in turn, tore Jack and I apart.”
“He was the one married, Nova,” Reid grits, gripping my fingers in his tightly. “He made you a promise and didn’t keep it.”
My chest cracks at his words because I know they’re true. He’s right, as much as I would like to deny it. Jack and I weren’t good together.
And then, just because I need to tell someone.
“I filed for divorce the day before we crashed, that’s why we were fighting. We were coming home from a Fourth of July party with his family, fighting and I just . . . had to tell him, I guess. There was a family walking on the sidewalk and the little girl dropped her glow stick and ran in the road to get it. I screamed that he was going to hit her because he wasn’t paying attention. He swerved. We hit a weak spot in the concrete and then, we were in the water. He made sure I got out, but he didn’t make it.”
Reid doesn’t speak, so I continue because it feels good to finally share this with someone. I know I shouldn’t, but it feels like a huge weight is lifted off my chest the moment I start.
“I know I should forget the past, but the past is right there, every day in my nightmares. Every time I look at the ocean. Every time I see that damned ring in my underwear drawer. I still remember what the little girl was wearing. A pink bow. Hair in pigtails. Her mother wore a gray shirt and as everything happened, that streak of gray when she was trying to save her child is the last thing I saw before we hit the water.”
“How did you get out of the car?” Reid’s voice is quiet. Somber. I force myself to meet his gaze, shrouded in the shadows, like a mystery. He’s hauntingly beautiful in this light and I could look at him like this for hours.
“He helped me out. Then, I remember fighting to get to the surface, but the car kind of pulled me back down. I remember the mud and how it got in my lungs and my eyes. Then, I remember drowning.” I suck in a shaky breath, my lungs feeling like they’re solidifying with lead. “Someone pulled me out. I never saw who, but whoever they were, I hope they’re okay.”
Reid pulls my fingers up to his chest and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against the back of my hand, grounding me. It shouldn’t be like this. Not when we’re doomed to separate at the end of the summer, but it feels so good, giving in to something—someone—that I can’t bring myself to leave yet. I chance a peak at him and his face is disturbed, slightly twisted as if this story is one he really doesn’t want to hear.
I can’t say I blame him.
“You know, we made each other a promise when we were younger. He said if I died, he’d never move on. I guess I kind of took that to heart because, well . . . he doesn’t even get the chance.”
Reid’s hand tightens around mine, but he doesn’t speak. I look up and he’s watching me carefully, his expression dark.
“What?”
“That’s manipulation, Nova.” He rolls toward me when I curl back from him and presses his hand to my hip to hold me there. “I’m sure he wasn’t all bad, but from where I sit, he manipulated you, cheated on you . . . hurt you. It fucking sucks for him that he didn’t make it, but don’t live your life for him. Live it for you.”
Tears burn in the backs of my eyes, but I can’t look away. Not when he’s holding my gaze in his chocolate one, so full of honesty and anger for the past.
“He silenced you, refusing to listen. Don’t let that happen again, and don’t apologize to me for kicking me out when I piss you off.”
“I shouldn’t have been so ru—”
He cuts me off with a shake of his head.
“You’re beautiful, Nova, but you deserve to be heard. Whether that’s from me making you come or from pissing you off. Either way, you fucking let me hear you.”
He waits a beat, giving me time to challenge him.
“Okay,” I say finally. It feels like he’s given me the world in the palm of my hand, yet I don’t have the slightest idea what to do with it.
“Okay.”
I check the bedside clock behind him and realize I’ve been here for three hours. “I should get home. I have to work early tomorrow.”
“And you have your class in the evening?”
I pause. I’d completely forgotten.
“How did you remember that and I couldn’t?” I tease, but he just rises from the bed, slipping a pair of jeans on while he watches me.
“Guess your memories fading, Grandma.”
I gawk at him. “You did not just say that to me.”
He chuckles darkly, taking my ankles and dragging me down the bed to hover over me.
“And if I did?”
Well, he’s got me there.
After a moment, I break. “I can’t come up with a witty comeback with you hanging over me like this.”
He laughs—actually laughs—and stands, pulling me with him.
“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
After we stop to say goodnight to Gran and Pappap, who are both already passed out in their recliners, Reid and I climb the hill toward the cottage under the moonlight.
“It’s starting to get chilly at night,” he murmurs as the breeze blows in off the Atlantic.
“I know. I don’t know how I’ll survive the winter treks up here.”
It dawns on me, then, that he won’t be here for the winter. He’ll be out on some boat, thousands of miles across the world.
He pauses at the front door to the cottage and something different hangs in the air between us.
“Listen . . .” I start, but he cuts me off by pressing his lips to mine, gentle and sweet and full of something that makes my knees feel like they’re going to buckle underneath me.
“I know I told you I want to hear you, just right now, I need you to go inside, okay?”
“Is everything okay?”
Something flashes across his eyes, but he scrubs a hand over his mouth and then it’s gone.
“Everything’s great.”
He kisses me again, this one warmer, full of dangerous heat that stirs my core, even though he made me come three times in the last couple hours already.
He presses me back against the house, his hand cupping the back of my head sweetly and the other pressed to the wood beside my ear.
When he breaks this kiss with a quiet groan and steps back, I shiver with the loss of him.
I wish he could stay, but we both know that’s not a good idea. We’ve already taken this farther than we should have. Just sex is one thing. Just sex and cuddling and deep conversations and bubble baths is something completely different.
“Good night, Nova,” he murmurs as he descends the stairs.
I watch him go, my chest fluttering with something painful. Maybe we’re strangers, but maybe we’re not. Not anymore. Maybe we’re just two people that were meant to heal together before life handed us our next tasks. Our next loves.
“Goodnight, Reid.”