Page 71 of Breaking News

I stared out the windshield, watching the sun start to dip behind the edge of the old school building. I wanted to ask her to come here, to bring the blanket and the pie and everything I didn’t realize I needed until she called. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask. She’d drive across the state in a heartbeat, and that kind of effort wasn’t something I could stomach right now. Not these days, when everyone else around me was catering to my every need.

So I just sat there, pretending like this phone conversation was enough.

But by the time I got home, the loneliness was almost unbearable. It was worse than the pain in my hips, which was becoming impossible for me to ignore.

I took a hot bath, hoping it would help, but it barely took the edge off. If anything, it gave me time to lie there and soak in more sad thoughts.

I wanted to be held.

With my dripping hands, I picked up my phone and called Graham. “Hey,” I said, my voice sounding weak and pathetic. “Could I come over?”

“Yeah,” he said, clearing this throat like he was worried he’d sounded too eager. “Of course.”

I pulled the plug from the drain with my toes and decided to be completely honest with him. “But I don’t think I want to fool around this time. I just need… you.”

“Perfect,” he said, and it sounded like he meant it. He told me he was almost home from class, and he’d leave his garage door open for me. It was probably best for me to park in there to avoid any suspicion from the Gardners.

Half an hour later, I showed up at his house in sweats and no make-up with my hair sloppily pulled back in a bun. I didn’t look a thing like the bubbly woman who greeted the city of Woodvale with a smile every morning.

But Graham didn’t say a word about my appearance. He didn’t say anything at all. He just pulled me into his arms and held me like he’d been waiting all day to do it. Like he knew it was exactly what I needed.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured against his shoulder. “I know you’ve got a million things going on with work and Olivia, and the last thing you need is me showing up like this.”

Graham pulled back just enough to see me, keeping my hands in his. “This right here?” He squeezed both hands. “It’s exactly what I need. Spending time with you… it resets me. I never thought I’d get to know this side of you, Jill. And it makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

Thisside of me?

The broken, exhausted, on-the-verge-of-tears side?

He must’ve been able to tell I was getting ready to say something self-deprecating or tell him he was crazy, because he spoke again before I had the chance. “Do you want to go upstairs and rest?”

I nodded, and he led me up to his bedroom, turning every lamp and ceiling light off on the way. I kicked off my shoes at the side of the bed and pulled the heavy comforter back, slippingbetween the cool, soft sheets. Graham crawled into bed after me, lying on his back so I could cling to his side the way I liked.

As we lay there, his fingers gently stroked my head. I closed my eyes, settling against his chest so comfortably I knew I’d be asleep within minutes.

“I’d do anything to make you feel better,” he whispered, his fingertips tracing along my hairline.

My chest tightened upon hearing those words. It almost sounded like this man was falling for me, which was a frightening thought. Even scarier was the way I felt like this was the kind of affection I’d been craving for so long—and how it was coming from someone I wasn’t meant to care about.

I didn’t know where this was going. I only knew that nothing felt better than drifting to sleep in Graham Harlowe’s arms, feeling his steady heartbeat against my cheek.

Finally, I could rest.

chapter twenty-seven

Graham

Icouldn’t sleep.

Somewhere out there, a doctor was sleeping soundly after deciding Jill’s symptoms weren’t worth looking into. She had told me all about how he’d dismissed her concerns twice now, and it sounded to me like she needed a second opinion.

My anger stewed for a while until Jill unconsciously rolled over with her back against me. I hated letting go of her, but it freed my arm to reach for my phone and start doing some research. I googled her symptoms, scoured subreddits, and browsed WebMD until my eyes hurt from looking at the bright screen in the darkness.

Doing what her fucking doctor wouldn’t do for her.

And everything seemed to point toward one thing: fibromyalgia. I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of it sooner. My Aunt Claudia had the same chronic illness, and while I didn’t understand much about it, I knew her complaints had been similar to Jill’s. Sore muscles. Radiating pain. Dull achesjust under the surface that hurt more when you placed pressure on them.

That was Jill.

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