Page 90 of The Light We Lost

He wasn’t looking at me for what I wasn’t. Searching for who I used to be.

He was looking at me like I was his salvation.

At last his restraint gave in, and his lips crashed against mine. I slipped my wrists out of the belt, and he murmured my name against my mouth as he kicked off his boots, this time not protesting when I pushed off his pants. They clattered to the ground, and he stepped out of them, his hands gripping my hips.

He lifted me up, and I hooked my legs around his waist as he carried me down the hall. Reaching back, I twisted the handle of the door, and Nolan kicked it open. It hit the wall with a thud, and we shared a breathless laugh when Genny scrambled out of the room.

He lowered me onto his bed, and I brought him with me, gasping at the delicious pressure of his body atop mine. We kissed and kissed, slowly unwinding and becoming something together. So consumed in one another, I couldn’t remember what existed outside this room. Couldn’t focus on anything but his mouth on my breasts, his fingers knotted in my hair. The marks my fingers left on his skin, how my name tasted on his lips. I was so wrapped up in him, in the decadent feelings he was giving me, it took me a moment to fully grasp what I was doing.

It was because this, being with Nolan, was the most natural thing in the world. It was why I’d never felt at ease in New York, or even Ohio. Why I’d felt lost and aimless for years. Why, when I’d gone back to my parents’ place, it hadn’t felt like coming home. Nolan had always been that for me. He was my shelter, my peace, my best friend. He was the light you went to sleep to, the kind you woke up to. The kind you were sure was always there.

He was my North Star.

“Nolan,” I whispered, and something in my tone urged him to stop.

Tenderly, he left a parting kiss on my hip, inching his way up my frame. He hovered over me, his arms caging me in. His skin was feverish, his chest rising and falling with hurried breaths.

But he looked at me with an easy smile, watching, waiting. The longer I looked into those blue eyes, the more compelled I was to share what I’d just felt. What I’d always felt. But those words were scary. They were a promise. They were a step toward forever, toward a future I couldn’t see. But I wanted him to know. Needed him to understand how much he was worth.

He must’ve seen it, must’ve felt as I did. “I know,” he murmured. “I know, Indy.”

My heart burned, and though we didn’t voice it, I knew what this was. It was as sure as his body against mine. I brought his lips back to mine, and as we made our way together and fell into a steady rhythm, I realized what we’d once had wasn’t lost. It was hidden. Slowly, step by step, we were finding our way back to one another.

Chapter Forty-Four

Nolan—Now

Alight breeze drifted through the window, stirring the wood shavings off my table and onto the shed floor. Taking a glove off, I ran my fingers along the wooden bat, ensuring I’d sanded it down smooth, then set it alongside the three others I’d made. I’d been holed up in here all morning, preparing for the fundraiser in less than two weeks. Indy had asked me to contribute to the raffle, but I’d decided to make a few extra pieces, figuring I’d donate them directly to the sports program. I wanted to support her, give her everything I could.

It wasn’t enough. She deserved more.

Reluctantly, I walked to the lumber pile and lifted the tarp off it, revealing the white wood there. It was the remnants of our tree. She hadn’t mentioned it since I told her, but I knew she was devastated I’d cut it down.

I’d chopped it down the day I received our divorce papers in the mail, signed and ready to file. I should’ve been relieved; I was the one who’d asked for the divorce. But one glance at her signature and the wedding band she’d stuffed inside the envelope had me storming out of the shop, ignoring Dad asking me to stay. I was blinded by rage. Broken. Lost.

But as soon as I cut it down, all I saw was the aftermath of what I’d done. The shards of our broken future. I’d let my wife down, myself down. I had nothing left.

Dad hadn’t seen it that way.

At that point, I’d stopped forcing a smile for my family. I’d stopped pretending everything was fine, that I wasn’t battling myself every single day. I was miserable; I’d given up. I expected Dad to do the same, accept I’d never put down the bottle. Instead, he knelt beside me and picked up the splintered pieces. Told me my life wasn’t over. He believed in me. Claimed I could make something more, something better.

It had taken me years, but as I stared at those pieces now, I finally could envision what I could make. Saw it bright and clear in my mind. I could hold, shape, and sand it. Soon enough, it would be real, whole. It would be mine.

But I knew deep in my heart it wasn’t what I was meant to create.

Rubbing at my chest, I set the tarp down and returned to my work. Every now and then, I’d catch myself pausing, glancing at the flash of gold through my window. Indy had been hard at work the past few days, spending hours of daylight tending to her garden. She’d even planted one in the backyard. I wasn’t sure how long her flowers would last once the temperatures dropped, but I’d keep them alive as long as I could manage. And when the time came, I’d plant more.

Anything to keep a piece of her here.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, fighting my disappointment that it wasn’t a message from Indy. She’d been at Shay’s most of the morning, making decorations for the fundraiser. It was why I was here, though I would rather have spent the day in bed with her. It didn’t matter if we’d been near inseparable the past few days—I wanted more.

But Indy had a job to do. It was why she was still here.

Deciding I’d wasted enough time, I ran inside the house, past Genny sleeping on the couch, and grabbed my truck keys. I supposed I could be using my free time to make plans for the bar. I still had no idea what I wanted to do with it once I bought it. But I couldn’t convince myself to care. I’d worry about the bar once the month was over—Indy was more important. I knew she was busy, but I was a man addicted. I needed to be with her. See her smile, hear her laugh.Promising myself I’d play with Winnie and let Indy work, I tapped on Shay’s door before walking in.

I stopped in the doorway, surprised. Couch cushions were scattered on the living room floor. Chairs were lined together with blankets spread over them, the makings of a fort. Giggles came from inside, and I shot a curious look at Shay, standing in the kitchen.

Spatula in hand, she waved. Before I could ask where Indy was, she raised a finger to her lips. She pointed to the fort, and I nodded, understanding. Quietly, I walked to it and knelt, peering through one of the gaps in between cushions.

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