Page 94 of Tell Me Something True

Kat shrugged as she began to walk away. “You’d be right.”

Chapter 18

Tabitha marched her sweaty, exhausted self up Miles’s sidewalk at almost nine p.m.

She shouldn’t be here. She’d tried going up to her apartment after her conversation with Kat, but as she’d been climbing the stairs, the stabbing pain in her chest from what Kat told her had intensified. Turned into a burning sensation, one that had flared brighter and hotter with every step.

Every remembered word.

The next thing she knew, she’d raced up to her apartment, grabbed her keys and purse, and got into her car.

And had ended up parked in Miles’s driveway.

She pounded on his front door.

Like the first time she’d been here, his house was dark. But the garage door was open and his car was parked inside.

He was home.

Still pounding on the door with her left hand, she pressed the doorbell with her other one.

He didn’t answer.

The coward. He thought he could wait her out. That she’d give in and scurry away like a frightened mouse.

Like the girl she used to be.

Shoulders set in determination, she marched herself back down the sidewalk, sweatier and more exhausted than before. Plus, now her hand was sore from all that knocking.

She stormed past his car only to stop when she realized that, while the ignition was off, his headlights were on and illuminating the back of the garage, and the driver’s side door was open. Frowning, she leaned into the car to shut off the lights, then closed the door.

The door leading to his kitchen was open, too.

Something wasn’t right.

Miles was too thorough to forget to turn off his headlights or shut his car door. Was too cautious to leave his garage door open at night. To not shut the door to his house.

Was too stubborn, arrogant, and prideful to back down from a challenge.

Like answering her knock on his door.

She climbed the steps to the kitchen. Rapped her knuckle on the door frame.

No response.

She pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the twilight barely cutting through the shadows, which was why she had to sweep her gaze around the room twice before spottting him.

And when she did, her breath locked in her chest.

He was on the floor, his back against the end of the island, his forehead resting on his bent knees, his arms wrapped around his head. Like he was trying to physically hold himself together.

“Miles?” she said softly. He didn’t move. She tried again, slightly louder. “Miles?”

His head rose slowly and when his gaze found her, he blinked as if coming out of a dream. He swallowed, his face drawn, complexion gray. Their eyes met, his filled with pain. Fear.

And the briefest, quickest flash of relief.

But then he laid his forehead back onto his knees as if he knew exactly how much she’d seen and wanted to make sure he didn’t give anything else away.

---