Page 59 of Fractured Trust

Her phone buzzed where it sat on the little table next to her, pulling her attention away from the darkening sky. She glanced down and the glass almost slipped from her hand. Noah’s name was on the screen.

Summer’s mouth went dry, her heart hammering. The wine glass clinked loudly on the table as she put it down with a suddenly shaky hand. She picked up the phone, biting her lip unconsciously as her finger hovered above the screen. What could he possibly be messaging her about? She swiped with trembling fingers, her eyes darting over the words.

Noah: In Tucson, about to go onstage. Wish me luck?

Summer blinked in confusion. The message was so mundane, so casual. As if she hadn’t shattered both of their hearts two weeks ago. Her brows drew together. Had he accidentally sent this message to her? Had he meant it for someone else, maybe Eden?

She tapped her lower lip, wondering what to do. Well, if he’d meant to send it to someone else, it was only polite to let him know he’d sent it to the wrong person.

Summer: Did you mean to send this to me?

A few seconds ticked by, and Summer fidgeted impatiently.

Noah: Yes.

Summer let her breath out in a rush. Okay. So, maybe this was him extending an olive branch. After all, if she was going to stay working for Eden, they needed to be okay with each other. Maybe that was what he was doing by reaching out.

She stared at his first message. It was stupid; his words didn’t change anything about their fucked-up situation. But just knowing that he was still thinking of her at that moment thawed a little of the ice that had filled her chest since she’d walked away from him. She didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve his… friendship. It took her a second before she could swallow past the tightness in her throat. Because that’s what this was. A text between friends. That’s all it could be.

She tapped out a quick reply.

Summer: Well, I would wish you luck, but we both know you don’t need it.

She waited with bated breath for a few minutes, but there was no reply. Maybe he’d already gone on stage. At least, she hoped that was it, and she hadn’t inadvertently upset him by questioning whether he’d meant to message her. She put her phone down and took a sip of her wine, closing her eyes and imagining Noah on stage, that smile on his face that always lit her up. For the first time in two weeks, her heart felt a little lighter.

A couple of hours later, as she was curled up in front of the television, torturing herself by watching a romcom, her phone beeped again. The shot of adrenaline she got when his name popped up told her it probably wasn’t a good idea to be indulging herself by talking to him. But she couldn’t help herself from immediately swiping at the screen to read what he’d written.

Noah: You were right, I killed it ;)

Summer’s smile felt funny on her face, considering she hadn’t worn the expression much over the last few weeks.

Summer: I knew you would. Stick with it kid, one day you might make it big.

Noah: Just got to get through the after party and then I can hit the sack. I must be getting old; I can’t party like I used to.

Summer’s hand trembled as she imagined him at the after party. Her eyes squeezed shut and she took a deep breath. She couldn’t worry about that. She’d broken it off with him to stop herself worrying about it. She wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do—reassure her he was going to bed alone tonight? But he didn’t owe her that. Particularly after the way she’d ended things. Summer quickly tapped out a reply.

Summer: I’m sure once you’re there you’ll get your energy back.

There was no answer to her text, and Summer gnawed at her lip. God, she was an idiot. He’d been trying to do something nice, and she’d thrown it back in his face. Tears stung her eyes; she was such a mess.

That night she lay in bed, tossing and turning as usual, while she thought over what Noah’s messages meant, and what she should do if he messaged her again. Wondering if she should ask him to stop; to give them both more time to heal. It took her a long time to fall asleep.

As she sat in the office the next day, Summer’s eyes constantly strayed to her phone, wondering if she might get another message. She looked over at Eden, considering whether she could ask her what Noah was doing. Things hadn’t exactly been the same in the office since she and Noah had broken it off. Eden had guessed right away that things between them had ended when she’d caught a glimpse of Summer’s swollen, red-rimmed eyes the next morning.

She’d hugged Summer and asked if she wanted to talk about it, only nodding and giving her hand a squeeze when Summer shook her head, lips trembling. Not long afterward, Eden had disappeared for a while, and Summer got the feeling she’d talked to her brother, because every time she looked over at Summer after that, a little crease would form between her brows.

The good news was, she didn’t fire Summer, didn’t follow through on her promise to kick Summer’s ass if she hurt Noah. But the atmosphere in the office did change, and Summer couldn’t exactly put her finger on why that was, because Eden seemed to treat her just the same as before. Or maybe it was all in her head, just a manifestation of her guilt. Either way, Summer didn’t feel like she could talk to Eden about the situation. Instead, she tried her best to distract herself and push aside her overthinking, at least while she was at the office.

But that night, when she was trying to relax with a book to take her mind off things, the beeping of her phone jolted her upright. She told herself it wouldn’t be him, but her hand was shaking as she scrambled to pick it up.

Noah: The audience sounds crazy tonight. Makes me fear for my safety.

Summer captured her lower lip between her teeth to stop the smile that wanted to spread across her face.

Summer: Hopefully you’ll be able to fend them off with your drumsticks.

She waited, but there was no answer.

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