Page 75 of When We Are Complete

She shrugs, the movement barely visible in her heavy coat. “Whatever.”

“At least it’s all over now, right?”

She gives me this look like I literally have no idea—that nothing isover. And I don’t know what to say or do. Again.

I need to call Jenny when we get home and fill her in on all this.

My gaze flicks back to the road, the snow thickening, swirling around us. I need to be the dad that Adele needs. And I have to make sure Kelly is okay. And somehow, I need to do this while dealing with the storm that’s about to hit us. And honestly, I’m failing on all fronts.

Snow drifts across the road in the wind and I’m hit with such longing—me and Kelly—inside with the fire burning, warm, cozy, just her laugh and her eyes on me, the two of us wrapped up in our own little world.

Adele deserves better from me. And damn it, so does Kelly. I’d give anything for things to be simpler, for me to be the man I need to be for them both.

Chapter 42

Kelly

The storm hitshard as darkness settles over Harbor’s Edge, the snow pounding down in thick, relentless sheets. Wind howls outside, rattling the windows and whipping down Main Street.

Nora and I are layered in sweaters and thick blankets, cocooned in front of the space heater on the floor with mugs of steaming tea.

I glance over at Nora. The red glow from the heater plays over her pretty face. “You think the storm’s going to get as bad as they say?”

She shrugs, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. “It’s hard to know. This is one of the worst winter storms I’ve ever seen. Everything’s getting iced over.”

Outside, the wind picks up again, howling, alive. The streetlights have already faded into a hazy blur behind the frost-covered windows, and the external walls of the apartment block creak.

“Thank God for heaters, right?” Nora says, taking a long sip from her mug. “I mean, imagine if the power went out—”

And, as if on cue, the heater sputters, a faint click resounding as the lights blink off, plunging us into darkness. A heavy silence follows, only interrupted by the relentless wind outside.

“Well,” I say, my voice sounding thin in the dark. “You spoke too soon.”

Nora’s features sharpen in the dark as my eyes adjust, and I can see her frown. “Great timing, huh? Okay. No big deal. I’ll get the candles.”

We fumble for our phones, the cold taking the place of the heat so quickly it’s almost shocking. Nora turns on her phone light and moves to the kitchen, where she opens a drawer and pulls out some candles and matches. There’s the strike of a match, then a single flame, followed by another. The light catches the blue of Nora’s wide eyes as she glances around the now-shadowed room.

A crack of wind hits the apartment again, the storm clawing at the windows of our apartment, a feral beast unleashed upon the New Jersey coast. Snowflakes, fat and relentless, continue to pelt against the glass.

I switch on my own phone light and pull the blanket around my shoulders before tapping twice on the carpet, then twice more, seeking calm in the rhythm, trying not to think about what’s happening out there.

My phone vibrates. It’s Jake, and I swipe to answer. “Hey, are you and Nora okay? Power’s out here.”

“Yeah, it’s out here, too. We’re fine for now. Nora’s just lit a couple of candles. Can I give you a call a little later?"

“Make sure you do. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Talk soon.”

I hang up, left with the cold and my thoughts, a dangerous combination on a night like this. He’s just a call away, but right now, an ocean stretches between us.

Nora opens the fridge, squinting at the dim light from her phone as she pulls out anything that looks remotely edible—a half-full carton of orange juice, a wedge of brie, some cherry tomatoes, a tub of hummus, crackers, chocolate mousse, and a plastic container of leftover Pad Thai. She sets them all on a tray and brings it over with a grin.

“Dinner is served,” she announces, putting on a dramatic voice. “Get it while it’s cold!” She laughs, then takes a seat on the floor across from me, tucking her legs under her. “Guess we’d better eat as much of this as we can. Although at this stage, the living room’s probably colder than the fridge.”

I nod, but my mind’s a million miles away. Outside, the storm is raging, and my thoughts are still on my installations—on the carefully arranged tarps, the bolts Jake hammered down. The supports his crew put in place. Is any of it holding up? Or is everything I’ve poured my heart into getting ripped apart by the wind right now?

“Hey, Earth to Kelly.” Nora’s voice cuts through, and she nudges me with her elbow. “Want some hummus?”

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