Page 14 of The Light We Lost

Nolan nodded, taking that as answer enough. He ran his thumb alongside the edge of the letter, and I held my breath, anxious to know what was inside. But when he tucked it into his back pocket, I took a step back.

I’d lost any right to know what went on in Nolan’s life a long time ago.

“Thanks for the heads-up, I guess?” He let out a low laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was his life. “I’m going to go over the papers, but I’ll get ’em done. Is your lawyer’s information in here so I know who to send it to?”

I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. “You can just give it to me.”

“New York is the last place I want to visit. Just give me your lawyer’s information. I’d prefer to communicate with them.”

My eye twitched, but I blamed my annoyance on the fact I was exhausted and I’d spent over half the day traveling with a cat. I glanced at the yellow taxi down the road, ensuring it hadn’t taken off. “I’m going to be in town for a while, so you can just drop them off at my parents’ house or the diner when you’re finished. My lawyer can contact you if he needs to.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice flat. “You’re . . . you’re staying here? In Wallowpine?” I nodded, and you would’ve thought from the way he glared at me, I’d told him I was here to win him back. “Why?”

I bit my lip, refusing to admit the full truth. I’d rather swallow hot coals than admit to him my life might or might not be in shambles. “To help my parents.”

“You’ve never helped them before.”

I recoiled at that, and any compassion I might’ve felt toward him vanished. He didn’t want me here. That was fine—I didn’t want to be here. “Just drop the papers off at my parents’ or the diner. Or if it’s that big of a deal to see me, just send them to my lawyer. I don’t care what you do as long as it gets us divorced.” I smiled, praying my eyes were clear. “I want to be here even less than you want me to. So let’s stay away from each other. No sense in making each other more miserable than we already have.”

Nolan stared at me, and I him, giving me a chance to fully look at him. To absorb the man he’d grown into. His hair was the same golden blond, the sides clipped short and the top long. His face was clean-shaven, and even though I wore heels, he stood over me, his shoulders wide, legs long, and waist lean. It was dark, but I could see the faint crinkles beside his eyes, the fading freckles on his cheeks.

He’d changed . . . grown into a man.

I might’ve been a fool and looked forever, if not for the flash of red and blue and the sound of a siren. A car pulled up beside us, and the gravel shifted beneath my feet as I turned to face the officer opening the driver’s side door. I barely registered what was happening when a man said, “Indy Tyler—I have a warrant for your arrest.”

I turned to Nolan, searching for his help, but he was no longer by my side. He was across the parking lot, climbing into his truck. I realized then he hadn’t changed. Everything was the same as it had been before.

He was walking away without a fight.

Again.

Chapter Six

Nolan—Now

“Comeon.” I dumped a container onto the concrete floor, grinding my teeth when I realized it was more camping supplies. I set the empty tub with the others, pieces of my brothers’ and my childhood scattered on the shed floor. I might’ve taken the time to appreciate the memories had I not seen it all a few weeks ago when we’d cleaned the shed out to turn it into my workspace. I put a foot on the shelf railing and heaved myself up, finding nothing but wood shavings and dust.

Where had I put it?

I glanced at my worktable, and one look at the box tucked in the corner had me feeling like a fool. If I hadn’t come home in such a panic, I would’ve looked there first. I hopped down and grabbed the box. It was the size of a shoebox—if it had been stomped on a few times. The wood was warped, the stain uneven. It was the ugliest thing I’d ever made.

It made for the best hiding spot.

I lifted the lid, a splinter snagging in my thumb. Mouth dry, I stared at the amber liquid within the glass bottle, set atop the other keepsakes I’d hidden. After an hour of searching, I should’ve been relieved I’d found it. But the longer I stared at the bottle of whiskey, the more empty-handed I felt. I needed something else. Something stronger.

But I couldn’t have it anymore.

I pulled into the shop parking lot and shifted the truck into park. Ignoring the burning desire to look down the street, I shoved on my hat and stepped outside. I was halfway across the lot, focusing on my breathing, when the front door chimed open and Jake said, “Well, ain’t this a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to stumble your ass in here this morning.”

I made a noncommittal noise. The fact he was here an hour before opening told me he’d thought I wouldn’t show. After staying up most of the night carving chess pieces, I’d considered it. But staying home wouldn’t get rid of this pressure in my chest. “I should have you arrested for breaking into my store,” I muttered as I passed him.

“I work here.”

“Time to retire.”

I continued forward to the office in the back, switched on the lights, and shook my head at the mess I’d left behind. Papers and boxes were scattered about, both from me deciding it was time to stop pushing off the inevitable and sort through what was left over from when Dad owned the business and from me leaving in a hurry yesterday. I grabbed a box, not because I preferred to throw myself into work first thing in the morning, but because I thought it might deter Jake from staring at me from the doorway.

“We gonna talk about it?” he pressed, and it wasn’t because he couldn’t take a hint. Jake loved being a pain in my ass. “That’s fine. I can wait. I don’t have better things to do.”

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