Page 135 of Echoes of Us

I didn’t have to feel bad about this.

I didn’t have to feel bad about this.

I closed my eyes tightly and tried shaking the guilt out of my chest. That fucking pain, theNoahpain, was back.

I went to the gym and tried to work through what was happening in my head. I forced myself to forget the look on Noah’s face, to push it down and not feel bad. Ezra asked me a million times if I was doing okay, and I kept lying, saying everything was fine.

After an extra hour of grueling exercises, we finally left the gym. My body was sore, the kind of deep ache that usually brought satisfaction. Today, it was just a distraction.

As we stepped out, I saw Noah sitting on a bench in front of the entrance, waiting. The sight of him made my stomach twist.

“That explains it,” Ezra said, nodding towards Noah.

I shrugged, trying to act indifferent.

He rolled his eyes. “See you back home, Att.” He turned to walk towards the apartment.

Noah stood as I approached, his expression serious. “Sorry for showing up here.”

“It’s fine. We took longer,” I replied.

“Yeah, I noticed.” He took a deep breath. “Can we talk now?”

“Sure.” There was no avoiding this. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Here’s fine.” He sat back on the bench.

I joined him, keeping a careful distance. Silence stretched between us.

“Are you waiting for me to say something? Because I was expecting you to start,” I finally said.

He looked down at his lap, his hands clasped tightly. “I knew what I wanted to say, but now I’m not sure,” he admitted.

My brows shot up. “Why?”

“I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to deal with it enough to want to talk. I didn’t realize dealing with it included fucking that guy, so I’m a little thrown off.” His words were sharp.

I shook my head. Crass as always.

“You have some nerve throwing that in my face,” I shot back, anger flaring.

He met my gaze. “You kissed me, Atty.Youdid it. And you told me to wait, and I did, and then you just…” He got up from the bench and paced. “You unblocked me from your phone. You’re flirting with me. I don’t fucking get it. What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, am I confusing you? Are you finding my behavior difficult to deal with?” I stood up, too, unable to stay still. “I earned the right to be confusing, Noah. After dealing with all your shit for months—years—I earned it. You’re going to give me shit for having sex with Mathew? I’m curious, Noah, how many people have you had sex with since you dumped me?”

“That’s not the point.”

I laughed bitterly. “Of course, it’s not the point because it’s never about whatyou’redoing wrong, right? It’s always about what the world is doing to you, poor little lost Noah, to whom bad shit just happens.”

“Stop it.”

“You broke me first.” My voice cracked.

His face softened, the anger bleeding quickly from it.

“You’re the one that keeps messing with my head. You’re the one that keeps smiling at me. You told me you still loved me. You want to know how many people I’ve had sex with, Noah?” I asked, my throat tight.

He shook his head.

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