Page 23 of Reclaiming Love

“Melissa, I’m sorry.” He retracted, rubbing his face.

She shook her head, looked up, willing with all her might that she could dry the tears before he noticed. She turned her face away, determined to compose herself quickly. “I’m not upset.” She gave him a smile her heart didn’t feel.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of that to hurt you.” He held his hands out, as if he wanted to comfort her, but drew them back as quickly, unsure of the boundaries. Then he looked away, and she quickly dabbed at the edges of her eyes.

She felt foolish for dissolving into desperation like this before him and hated that she’d come undone this suddenly by his words. She’d been reduced to a mushy heap by the wrecking ball that was Matt.

Noah looked at her with worried eyes. A few times he shifted in his chair as if he was going to come over, but he stayed where he was and for that she was grateful. She didn’t need for him to tell her how awful he felt. She could read the evidence of it on his face. Even though he was almost a stranger, she already felt a connection to him. She felt him.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t.” She’d regained a modicum of self-decorum. “You didn’t do anything. It was me. I was a bit of a mess this morning.”

“I should have listened.” He hated himself, she could tell from the way he said it. “You probably wish you’d gone to the gym now, instead of running into me.”

“I was running from the gym,” she confessed. “And I’m glad I ran into you.” She meant it.

He gave her a searching glance, and she got the impression that he had questions, but she also sensed that he wasn’t going to push for any answers either.

“Stuff happens, sometimes,” he said it not lightly, not like verbal make-you-feel-better-bullshit. He said it like he knew about that kind of stuff—stuff that happened and scarred you. Somehow, the way he said it, she knew he was speaking from deep down. “I’m sorry I upset you.” He held out his hand to stop her, as she was about to interject again and tell him it wasn’t his fault. “My words stirred up something and for that I’m truly sorry.”

She shrugged, letting him say what he felt he needed to say.

“I’m glad we met today,” she told him. It suddenly dawned on her, in that moment, that her tears were those of relief.

Of finding someone who could read her so clearly, without her having to spell it all out.

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