Chapter 18
Nora is surrounded by every single one of her favourite people, and yet, somehow, she has never experienced so much cognitive dissonance in her life.
As soon as Ash is directed where to leave his car, grumbling the whole way about parallel parking, two more chairs are pulled up to the mass of tables and Kayla and Ash are settled in with the group.
Kayla and Ash are here. They’re in fucking Riverwalk , looking distinctly out of place in their sharp business attire, and it makes Nora wonder if that’s how she looked when she first got here. Pressed and polished, uptight and overly corporate, next to the faded jeans and baseball caps of her new life.
Either way, they’re looking at Dani and the arm draped over the back of Nora’s chair with far too much interest.
“This is a surprise! Nora talks about you all the time, but we had no idea you’d be visiting,” Dani says genially once everyone has been introduced.
Ash’s answer is pretty much the exact opposite of what Nora was hoping it would be. “We’ve come to rescue our CEO from her hermitage!”
Nora’s heart sinks to the soles of her sneakers.
“CromTech is probably on fire with all three of us gone, but we had to see what was keeping our dear Eleanor here,” Kayla says, folding one leg over the other and leaning back in her chair. Though her tone is droll, her smile is genuinely friendly, and Dani reacts in kind.
“We’re so happy to have her, we didn’t want her to leave,” Dani says, smiling. But Nora can see that across the room, other people’s faces are slowly changing. Turning from pleasant curiosity to slow, stunned realization.
Nora’s heart, now back in her chest, is pounding at a mile a minute.
“CromTech?” Naomi says. The pleasant conversation around the arrival of two newcomers has died completely.
“CEO?” Sarah says.
“Yes,” Ash drawls, looking perplexedly between them. “Eleanor, did you not tell them—?”
Naomi makes a tiny, disbelieving noise of surprise, and Kayla’s eyes widen just a bit too late.
“Oh. Oh, no,” Kayla says quietly, touching Ash’s arm.
“CromTech,” Naomi says quietly. Her eyes are drilling into Eleanor’s, their warmth tempered by an intense focus. “Nora. Eleanor . You’re Eleanor Cromwell.”
Kayla and Ash have been here all of ten minutes, and already Nora’s summer of half-truths is blowing up in her face. Everything she’s been avoiding is rumbling toward her in an avalanche, and she’s pretty sure she’s on the verge of a full panic attack.
“Your last name is Cromwell?” Owen says.
Nora wishes desperately for everyone to just stop asking questions, but the universe doesn’t listen.
“You’re Eleanor Cromwell,” Naomi repeats. “The MRI technology you talked about at Pride—you’re the CEO of CromTech.”
Nora’s stomach churns. She doesn’t even dare look in Dani’s direction, too afraid of the betrayal and confusion she’s sure to see there, her lies finally coming to light at the worst possible moment. There’s blood pounding in her ears; she can practically feel the pressure of every set of eyes pressing into her skull.
“What the hell?” Sarah says, flabbergasted.
Ryan pipes up from under Owen’s arm. “Fucking CromTech , Nora?”
“All summer you’ve been lying to us?” Sarah says, looking more disappointed than anything else. “Are you seriously—”
Nora doesn’t stay to hear the rest. She can hear Kayla calling out to her as she sends her chair clattering to the floor, but she doesn’t turn back. She doesn’t face the consequences of her months of avoidance.
Nora runs.
She runs harder than she’s ever run before, sprinting down a path she and Dani sometimes use to bypass Main Street, and cutting through the woods until she emerges into a blessedly empty soybean field. She wades past a few rows before hunching over to gasp for air, her eyes burning with tears she can’t hold back.
They all know now. The shock in everyone’s eyes was clear—anyone who didn’t figure it out the moment Kayla let it slip surely knows after Naomi laid it all out. The reactions spoke for themselves. It’ll spread through town like wildfire, and in a matter of hours, it’ll all be over.
It’s richly deserved, but the loss of her protective bubble is devastating. The anonymity of Riverwalk has allowed Nora to be truly, unrestrictedly herself for the first time in her life. Here she’s not the daughter who never measured up, not the perfect student or the hard-ass bitch. Not Eleanor, not MissCromwell, not Robert Cromwell’s daughter. Not the CEO of CromTech. Just Nora. And now that’s gone.
She can’t blame Kayla and Ash, really. She’s been deliberately shutting them out. She’s told them only the barest hints about her time here, so they had no way of knowing that nobody in town knew who she was. And she certainly can’t blame Dani and her friends for being angry about the fact that Nora has been hiding this.
Even so, it hurts like a bitch .
Nora sinks to her knees in the dirt, savouring what she knows now will be her last day here.
She’s finally run out of time.
“Nora?”
Nora closes her eyes as Dani approaches from behind her. Dani’s voice is soft, and Nora can hear her hard breathing as she rustles through the soybean plants. She must have run to catch up.
“I’m sorry,” Nora whispers. She hears Dani settle beside her, and a warm hand lands on her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Dani says nothing. Nora opens her eyes; Dani’s hat is missing. Her ponytail is windblown, with tiny blonde fly-aways fluttering in the breeze, and her expression is soft.
“You have every right to scream at me,” Nora says. “I should have been completely honest with you from the start. I know how you all feel about CromTech. I was so—so fucking selfish .”
Dani’s face, strangely, doesn’t change from its sympathetic expression. She just settles herself in the dirt right next to Nora and interlaces their fingers. “I’ve always known who you are.”
A genuine record scratch would be less disruptive. Nora replays the words in her head, in order, and yet they don’t make a coherent statement to her.
Nora looks down at their linked hands, and then back up at Dani.
“I saw your full name on the receipt the first time you came to the shop,” Dani says, shrugging as if this isn’t a massive fucking revelation that shakes Nora’s entire perception of the summer. “I have a degree in journalism, remember? And you had a CromTech key chain in your dashboard when I changed your tire.”
Nora blinks slowly.
From the moment they met, Dani has known who Nora is. What she does. So she’s known that Nora hasn’t been telling her the whole truth, and she’s wanted to spend time with her despite that.
“I don’t understand,” Nora says.
Dani squeezes her hand. “I figured you didn’t want the whole town knowing, especially after Ryan said all that stuff about CromTech. You seemed like you needed a break. And, like I said, nobody is entitled to know anything personal that you don’t want to share. Myself included.”
Even in Nora’s most indulgent, selfish daydreams, she never could have imagined that Dani would react this way. It’s so absurd that it feels disingenuous, even though Dani has never shown any signs of lying. “You didn’t tell anyone. You didn’t treat me any differently.”
“Of course I didn’t. You’re just a person like everyone else. I got to know you on your terms.”
Nora laughs humourlessly. “I’m not sure how you did that. I don’t even know me lately.”
Dani doesn’t let her spin into the vortex of self-loathing. She puts a finger under Nora’s chin to guide her until their eyes meet and speaks with a frank honesty that even Nora can’t ignore.
“I know you, Nora. You inspired Mila to start her own clothing brand, and you never treat any of us like we’re less than you,” Dani says, smiling softly. “You like to read and drink good wine and do 5,000-piece puzzles to relax. You’re a recovering workaholic. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you want to use it to help people. You’re an incredible woman. And I’m insanely lucky that I’ve gotten to spend this summer with you.”
There’s a lump in Nora’s throat the size of a baseball when Dani finishes. Even though Nora’s chin is still being gently held, she can’t help but avert her suddenly watery eyes. Dani’s intensity is too much to look at head-on, especially when it’s being directed in a way that Nora doesn’t—
“I don’t deserve your faith in me,” Nora manages to say. “Even if you did know who I was, I didn’t know that you knew. I’ve still been keeping it from you. Not telling you why I really came to Riverwalk.”
“I don’t think you ever told a lie,” Dani says with a wan smile. “I was paying attention. And you did tell me, that night in bed. You did the right thing.”
That catches Nora’s attention. Her eyes snap to Dani again.
“You were awake?”
Dani winces. “Yeah. Sorry. I know you tried a couple other times, too.” She shifts a little, settling on her knees in the dirt and looking out at the sun sinking on the horizon. “And here’s my confession. I almost wrote an article about you, before I quit reporting.”
It’s too much information at once. Nora blinks silently, lost for words, as Dani keeps talking.
“It was about CromTech’s changes when you took over. The good ones, compared to your father’s policies. My boss turned it down because I couldn’t be objective,” Dani says. Her eyes are downcast. “I quit a couple months later and came back here. But I remembered as soon as I saw your name.”
Nora might be upset if her own secret wasn’t about a thousand times bigger. She stares at Dani, trying in vain to comprehend why Dani’s reaction to all this has been so mild. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Dani gnaws on her lower lip, letting it slide harshly through her teeth before she speaks. “I guess I had the same problem you did. Admitting that I knew, letting you tell me the truth, it felt like…like that would be the end. I wanted to keep this a little longer, I guess. I wanted more time with you. To know you fully.”
It’s a bit calming to know that Dani’s reasons echo Nora’s own. They both made the wrong decisions in futile attempts to preserve the magic of the summer, and now they’re both here in the aftermath.
“But I told you I came here to develop Riverwalk,” Nora says. “I was going to do everything you said you didn’t want. You have every reason to never want to speak to me again.”
Dani doesn’t say anything for a moment. The truth hangs between them, caught on the thick tension in the air. In the end, Dani’s response is only three words. “You said was .”
Nora frowns. “ Was ?”
“You talked in the past tense. Your proposal was to buy property. You were looking to profit. You said you’d changed your mind.”
Nora laughs wetly, wiping at her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. “Of course I changed my mind. I’m going to be eviscerated by the board for coming back empty-handed, but there’s no way I can go forward with it.”
“Then why would you not deserve my faith in you?” Dani says. Her voice is warm, and when Nora finally raises her eyes to Dani’s, they’re unimaginably kind, given the circumstances. “You were scared, but you did the right thing. If that isn’t me being proven right, I don’t know what is.”
“So you just…you don’t care that I was going to do all of that to begin with?” Nora asks. “I told you I came here for a selfish reason that would have jeopardized the town you love, and that didn’t bother you?”
“I know. I probably should have flipped out as soon as I figured out what you were here for. But every time I was with you, I stopped caring about the town,” Dani says softly, drumming the fingers of her other hand against her thigh. “I was selfish, too. Putting what I wanted ahead of everyone else. Even if you hadn’t changed your mind, I don’t know if I ever would have said anything. Not if it meant you’d leave sooner.”
It’s dangerously close to the kind of admission Nora has been avoiding. Intellectually she’s suspected that Dani feels as strongly as she does, but to be faced with the reality of it on the day when it all comes crumbling down is like a slap in the face.
In the end, their feelings don’t matter. Not when their lives have to diverge.
“At this point, I don’t care what you came for. I care what you’ve done since,” Dani says with an air of finality.
Defending Nora against herself seems to come naturally to Dani in a way Nora doesn’t understand. But her steady presence is calming, and as Nora’s heart rate slows, she closes her eyes and tries to focus on the things she can feel. The cool breeze on her skin, clean and fresh. The soil under her knees, still warm from the day’s sun. The birdsong and crickets and gentle buzzing of insects among the plants. Dani’s hand intertwined with hers, with her rough callouses against Nora’s soft skin. Breathing in, breathing out.
Nora opens her eyes to drink in her last Riverwalk sunset.
“You okay?” Dani asks softly.
Some of the tension has left Nora’s body, but her stomach still lurches when she thinks about going back to the bar to face everyone.
“I assume the others aren’t quite as understanding as you are,” Nora says. The memory of each face as the truth was revealed leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. “Ryan is probably ready to kill me.”
Dani’s mouth forms a thin line that tells Nora all she needs to know. “They’re all a little shell-shocked. But they’ll come around.”
“They’d be well within their rights not to. As would you,” Nora says.
Dani stands, brushing the dirt from her knees and offering a hand to Nora. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. Even with your explanation, I still don’t understand why you don’t hate me.”
In helping Nora up, Dani pulls her close enough to share air. With only a whisper of space between them, Dani looks down at her with a tenderness Nora can’t fathom. “I could never hate you.”
“Why?” Nora asks before she can think better of it.
Dani’s hand in hers gets warmer. Dani doesn’t say the words, but Nora can almost taste them in the air—the same words Nora has been choking back for weeks, so easily evident in Dani’s eyes. Even now, when she sees Nora for who she really is.
“Come on,” Dani says instead, tugging lightly at Nora’s elbow. “Your friends want to apologize.”
* * *
The patio has cleared out by the time they get back to the River Run. Kayla and Ash are the only people left, waiting at a table inside the bar with a jug of sangria, and the moment they lock eyes, Kayla is hurrying forward to pull Nora into a tight hug.
“I am so sorry,” Kayla says. She lets Nora go quickly, aware as always of her usual aversion to affectionate displays.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t even think to ask you, I just assumed—”
“It’s fine, Kayla,” Nora says, taking the seat beside Dani’s. Dani puts an arm immediately over the back of her chair, and Nora shifts to lean easily against her. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?”
“We were worried about you,” Kayla says. Nora doesn’t miss the way Kayla’s eyes track the movement of Dani’s arm, narrowing curiously at the easy physicality between them.
“We’re also a little curious about your new life,” Ash says, stirring his sangria.
“That, too. But mostly we’re here because Renée is holding an emergency board meeting two days from now, and we’re pretty sure she’s going to propose a vote of no confidence,” Kayla says far too casually.
Nora sits up straight.
“They’re trying to fire you?” Dani says, her brow furrowed. “Can they do that?”
“Yes,” Nora tells Dani, then turns back to Kayla. “On what grounds?” The fuzzy warmth of the summer is falling away the longer her friends are here, and facing the reality of what she’s going to be returning to is like plunging into icy water.
“Undue absence,” Ash says, sipping his sangria and wincing. Whether it’s because of the subject matter or because the wine isn’t to his standards, Nora can’t tell. “Conflict with board members, namely herself. And financial mismanagement.”
“She’s been gunning for it all summer, but we’ve been able to hold her off until now. When you didn’t come back at the end of August, she went on the warpath,” Kayla says gravely.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“We tried! You don’t answer your email anymore, and you’ve been ignoring our calls,” Ash says. “When we do manage to get hold of you, you’re barely interested in talking about work.”
Nora can’t begrudge him that assessment. She’s let four phone calls go to voicemail in the last week, assuming that they were calling to talk to her about coming home. And they were, as it turns out. For good reason.
“We figured the only way to get your attention was to turn up in person,” Kayla says, glancing around at the decor as she pours Nora a glass of sangria: the mismatched tables and chairs, the faded carpet, the wood-panelled walls. “We weren’t expecting…”
“Expecting what?” Nora asks. Kayla’s pointedly raised eyebrow is raising her hackles—she’s looking Nora up and down, too, from her sneakers and jeans to her loose hair to the oversized blue-and-red checkered flannel draped over her shoulders. It’s Dani’s—Nora stole it weeks ago to ward off the cold.
“For you to look so…local.”
It’s Kayla’s usual tone, nothing Nora isn’t used to—dry, sarcastic, and irreverent. Nora has always let it roll right off her shoulders. But here, directed at the place where Nora has become so comfortable, it has Nora feeling defensive.
“What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” she snaps.
Kayla blinks silently. The silence that follows feels slightly frosty.
“Hey, Ash,” Dani says, her eyes darting back and forth between Nora and Kayla, “do you like to play darts?”
“Do I ever,” Ash mutters, springing out of his seat. He’s always been the least confrontational one of the three of them, more likely to interfere behind the scenes or step in as a peacemaker. As he and Dani leave the table, Dani with a quick squeeze to Nora’s shoulder, Nora is grateful. If she’s going to hash it out with Kayla, she’d rather do it without an audience.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Eleanor,” Kayla says, and to her credit she does sound penitent. “I meant that you look happy. Healthy. You look at home here.”
The repeated use of Nora’s full name keeps making her flinch. A simple Eleanor seems as loud as a gunshot when she’s spent a whole summer getting used to Nora .
“Isn’t that the point? You suggested this vacation because you were worried I was—what was the phrase you used—‘working myself to death’?”
“I wasn’t banking on you falling in love.”
Nora’s head snaps to Dani, her heart in her throat—if she heard, if this is how Dani finds out…
But Dani is out of earshot. She’s watching Ash throw a dart with folded arms, critiquing his form, if Nora’s hunch is correct. Her head tilts in the same way it does when she’s assessing someone’s pool game. The strap of her tank top has shifted up to show the edge of her tan line—Nora had woken Dani up this morning by kissing her there until Dani rolled over, giggling, and claimed the kisses with her mouth instead.
Nora’s chest aches with pre-emptive grief.
“Wow. You didn’t deny it,” Kayla says, sighing into the silence Nora has left. Her tone is more sincere now. “You really have changed.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all. Dani is a good influence on you.”
“Not for much longer,” Nora says. Her glass is sweating, untouched, beads of condensation pooling on the coaster. Nora can’t bring herself to drink it. “It’s time to go home.”
That last word sticks in her throat.
“While the last thing I want is for you to lose your job,” Kayla says carefully, folding her hands together on the table, “I think that maybe the fact that you’ve stayed away long enough for this to become an issue should be evidence that—”
“It’s nothing more than irresponsibility on my part,” Nora interrupts, fully aware of where Kayla is headed and unwilling to let her finish her point. “I knew the situation was worsening, and I stayed here anyway. I need to get back to reality.”
“I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her,” Kayla says softly.
As if the universe wants to drive home the point, Dani looks over her shoulder just as Kayla says it, catching Nora’s eye. She smiles, giving Nora a little wave, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’ll go back with you tomorrow. I can hire someone to pack up my things,” Nora says. Even the idea of it floods her with exhaustion. It’s like the bone-deep weariness she came here with has been magnified exponentially.
“I’ll drive you,” Kayla says. “Ash can get himself home. I get the feeling you’ll be a little distracted.”
Nora is overcome, suddenly, with a need to be closer to Dani. She leaves the table and her untouched drink, heading over to where Dani is just landing a bull’s eye.
“Your girlfriend is sullying my reputation as a formidable darts player,” Ash grumbles as Nora approaches.
“Can’t have been much of a reputation to begin with,” Dani says, shrugging good-naturedly. Ash laughs, but in retaliation, he nudges Dani with his shoulder at the height of her next throw. It veers off, sinking into the drywall instead, and Nora smacks him on the arm.
“Ow! You see what I have to put up with being friends with Eleanor? Abuse,” Ash says, rubbing his bicep. “Does she beat you like this, Danielle?”
Dani grins. “Only when I ask nicely.”
There’s a moment of quiet where the statement seems to work its way through Ash’s brain before he roars with laughter, slapping Dani on the back. “Oh, I like you!”
“I’m sorry about him,” Nora says, plucking a coaster from the nearest table and throwing it in Ash’s direction. “He’s not fully house-trained.”
Ash blows a kiss.
Dani steps back to let him have his turn, putting an easy arm around Nora’s waist and kissing the top of her head. Nora leans into her. It’s a simple unconscious gesture she’s done a hundred times this summer, and it’s only the look on Kayla’s face as she watches it happen that makes Nora finally comprehend the word Ash used.
Girlfriend .
Even though Nora is leaving tomorrow, even though she’s been convincing herself all summer that this is only a fling, she had no reaction to being called Dani’s girlfriend besides an overall feeling of contentment.
The hotel Kayla and Ash booked themselves into is far outside of town, and it’s hardly gotten dark before Kayla is ushering Ash out the door and promising to meet at Nora’s place in the morning. Dani subtly inclines her head toward the door after them, and, as always, Nora follows without a thought.
The drive home is quiet. It’s been days since Dani slept at her own house, and she follows Nora inside without question. After stripping down and getting ready for bed—a two-person dance of a routine that Nora hadn’t realized they’ve developed, weaving around each other as easily as breathing—Nora ends up tangled with Dani in the bedsheets, wrapped around her in every way she can manage.
Neither of them pushes it further than that. The room is dark and quiet except for a shaft of moonlight between the curtains and the sound of their breathing. Their legs are wound tightly together, and Nora’s head pillowed on Dani’s chest. Dani is playing idly with Nora’s hand, running her calloused fingertips over the softer pads of Nora’s like she’s trying to learn every swirl.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Nora says quietly. Dani’s answer is equally soft.
“I know.”
Dani’s hand doesn’t still. She moves to Nora’s wrist, tracing the blue veins under her pale skin.
“I’ve been gone too long already,” Nora continues. She’s not sure whom she’s trying harder to convince—Dani or herself. “I can’t put it off anymore.”
“I know,” Dani says, her voice never wavering. Understanding, even, and calm. A rock in the tempest Nora is failing to navigate. The sound of it is like a beacon. Nora breathes in deep: warm vanilla, machine shop. Crisp deodorant and the base-level chemical attraction of her skin.
“It doesn’t feel real,” Nora whispers, as if saying it quietly will make it hurt less.
Dani squeezes her shoulder, kissing the top of her head again. Her lips linger this time. “It doesn’t. But I’m grateful for the time we had.”
There’s a quaver in Dani’s voice that Nora hasn’t heard before.
* * *
Nora hardly sleeps, and she’s fairly sure that Dani doesn’t either. It’s like her mind won’t let her give up a single moment of their last night together, even if it means the morning finds her red-eyed and groggy as she throws together the essentials and schedules a moving crew for later in the week.
Dani helps out, efficiently carrying Nora’s bags out to the car while Nora is on the phone with the movers. While Kayla loads her things into the trunk, Nora pulls Dani aside.
She looks as beautiful as always. She’s in a tight henley and jeans, her hair a bit tangled from their sleepless night, and it strikes Nora all at once as the weak morning sun lights up her grey eyes.
This is goodbye.
Nora can’t find the right words. She lets Dani pull her into a hug, pressing her face into Dani’s neck and trying to memorize how it feels.
“Remember how you said you wouldn’t beg me to go with you when you left?” Dani says quietly.
Dani doesn’t say anything further, but Nora knows. It’s about as close to begging as Dani Cooper will get, as concerned as she’s always been with making sure Nora never feels unduly pressured. Dani is putting herself out on a limb. Offering something and trusting Nora to tell her the truth.
Nora couldn’t stop the tears if she tried. They run down her nose, wetting Dani’s skin.
Nora wants to say yes. God, does she want to. But there’s a pit of fear in her belly, one that whispers at her—telling her that Dani moving to the city is a bad idea, no matter how much Nora wants to keep her close. That her instinct to say yes is just u-hauling, stuck in the honeymoon phase of a summer relationship they haven’t even defined.
Nora can’t imagine being the person to drag Dani away from here. To take her from somewhere that makes her so happy and force her to live the kind of life that Dani has already made the conscious choice to leave. To subject her to the person Nora really is, the person she’s sure she’ll revert to as soon as she gets back—the uptight, aloof workaholic. The woman who sleeps in the office. The woman who doesn’t have the time or inclination to maintain anything beyond a physical relationship.
Isn’t it better to break both their hearts now and keep the good memory of their summer together, rather than draw it out until it all ends in a bitter mess?
Dani seems to know it, too.
“Sorry. Forget I said that.” Dani pulls back from the hug, smiling in a way that looks more like a grimace. Her face tightens, like maybe she’s struggling not to cry. Nora herself has to put all of her energy into holding in the sob that claws at her chest.
Nora wants so badly to say all the things she’s been holding in all summer— I’m crazy about you, I love it here, I love you — but no sound comes out. She’s silent, her mouth quivering in the face of Dani’s sad acceptance.
Dani inclines her head toward the idling car where Kayla is patiently waiting. “You’d better get going. You’ve got a big meeting to get ready for.”
“Right,” Nora says. Her breathing is shaky. “Of course.”
“One more for the road?” Dani says, holding her arms out.
Nora throws herself into them with no hesitation.
The kiss they share is just as intense as their first. Dani holds Nora so tightly that she can hardly breathe, but Nora wouldn’t want it any other way—she wants to feel like the only air in her lungs is coming from Dani’s mouth, that they’re connected in every way possible in their last moments together.
Nora pours everything she can’t say into the kiss. The idea of parting is like ripping a piece of herself away. It’s as if when she carved her name into that tree, it bound them together somehow. Dani is carved into her heart.
But it can’t go on forever. Their kisses finally slow, and Nora pulls herself away after one soft, final meeting of lips.
Dani strokes Nora’s cheek one last time before letting her hand drop away. “Goodbye, Nora.”
Before she can call this whole thing off, Nora tears herself away from Dani and gets into the car. When she shuts the door behind her, Kayla’s voice is right there beside her.
“One last chance to change your mind.”
Nora doesn’t answer. After a moment, Kayla turns the ignition, and Nora watches Dani shrink in the rear-view mirror—leaned up against her truck, arms folded, watching the progression of Nora’s Porsche down the driveway—until the car turns onto the road.
Nora has never been more grateful for Kayla’s presence. She keeps a steady hand on the wheel and the other laced with Nora’s while she cries. She gives steady company without judgment. The further Nora gets from Dani, the more it feels like a piece of her is stretching thin between them, refusing to let Dani go. A kite string holding them together.
It’s somehow both the longest and the shortest drive of Nora’s life. She collapses into the cold, now-unfamiliar bed in her dusty apartment just before 2 a.m. after an afternoon spent furiously outlining a plan for tomorrow’s meeting, and she sleeps fitfully out of pure exhaustion.
The moon seems terribly far away, cold and small and remote above the glowing city skyline.