Page 34 of Reclaiming Love

Chapter 19

One step forward and three back.

Noah wasn’t ready to leave her yet. He’d been waiting for her to get back and bumping into Melissa first thing in the morning had been the best thing to happen to him in days. He could have happily stayed and continued talking to her. Instead, he was on his way to work, and as he glanced back through the window he saw her looking at him.

He’d been almost on the verge of asking her if she wanted to sit down. Maybe they could have caught up on things. It wasn’t such a crazy idea; they’d had lunch together a few weeks ago and she’d stolen into his thoughts ever since.

He sometimes felt guilty for thinking of Bree. And sometimes he felt guilty for thinking of Melissa when he should have been thinking of Bree.

He had survived Christmas—that was the main thing. Moving into the new apartment reaffirmed his belief that he was moving on with his life. Returning to the city, to the routine of work made things easier.

His parents had wanted him to stay longer; he knew they were worried about him. But he was going to be fine. It was Bree’s parents he found harder to look in the eye. Faces so haggard they’d aged overnight in the space of a few months.

He could see how losing a child, even a grown woman in her early twenties, would do that to people.

Visiting her grave had been the hardest thing and he had left as soon as he was politely able to. Paul had gone home for Christmas and would be back tomorrow; so for now it was him and the other guy who he only met once when he came to pick up his key.

Noah held onto his coffee cup, and wondered for a moment whether to walk back to the coffee shop and ask Melissa if she was free for lunch. He could swear she had perked up as soon as she’d seen him. She had telltale signs, and the way her face tinted warm pink, he knew wasn’t completely from the cold. It was the perfect giveaway.

She did feel it. It wasn’t just him. Maybe Melissa would be the girl that made him believe again. She was gorgeous—not in a show-off way. She didn’t scream big hair or short skirts because she was so understated, so quietly gorgeous, as if most of the time she had no idea she was so pretty.

Even though he knew he liked her, he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted was to have her think he was some sort of creep who stalked her.

Maybe she liked him too.

But maybe she had a boyfriend.

Or maybe not, because she’d never actually mentioned one.

He’d have to think about throwing that into a conversation casually.

Seeing her first thing on his return to work was almost like a sign. Maybe this year good things were in store. He had walked much further down the street, but he turned anyway and dared to look back on the off chance. There she was, a figure in a dark coat, with a splash of purple around her neck.

A girl like that—what were the odds that she was single?

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