Page 118 of One Last Time
“Do you have news?” I blurt out, needing to know if that’s why she’shere.
“These were on your porch without a card,” she tellsme.
I don’t care about the stupid flowers. For all I know, they are from the person who did this to me, and they want to torture me further. I want information about the email. I’m tired of waiting and gettingnowhere.
Jackson explained it wasn’t as easy as I thought. Since this isn’t technically a crime, there isn’t a judge in the world who would grant a subpoena to get the IP records. Therefore, he has a friend who has a friend who may or may not have been in the CIA. And then he assured me I should know nothingelse.
“Catherine?”
“All I know is Jackson said to meet him over here when I got done working inside Starbucks since I needed to be away from the kids, so I’m here. Go get in the shower, make yourself . . . human, and we’ll sort through theinfo.”
“Ican’t—”
“Go.” She points. “I know you’re on pins and needles, but he could be another hour. Are the kids withScott?”
“Yes. I told him I wasn’t feeling well and needed him to keep them for a fewdays.”
“Good, go make yourself not look likeass.”
Not wanting to argue with her, I head to the bathroom to clean up. I stand under the water, washing away the layer of depression that clings to my skin. There’s nothing I can do about my situation. I know I’m not responsible, but it’s everyone else I have to convince. Then, I see Noah’s face as he walked away. The disappointment, anger, and resolve that we werethrough.
I close my eyes, leaning my back against the cold tiles, and let the tearsfall.
He didn’t comeback.
He must know it wasn’t me, and it didn’t changeanything.
I’m alone again, only this time there’s norelief.
A knock on the door causes me to jump. “Kristin?”
I clear my throat, hoping to cover the ache in my voice. “Yeah?”
“I heard from Jackson, he’ll be here intwenty.”
“Okay.”
Once I’m finished, I get dressed and toss my hair in to a messy bun. Hopefully, the clean-but-still-distraught look is more acceptable than who-cares-if-I-die and dirty. I head into the living room where Catherine is pacing as she talks to someone on thephone.
“I understand. Yes, well, there’s not much I can do.” She pauses. “Did you tell him I’m doing exactly what I would if she weren’t family?” Catherine listens to the other person, and I stay quiet. “He can’t do that, Tristan. I don’t care that it’s already done. He . . . wait, what do you mean . . . done?” She’s talking about Noah. I know she is. I shouldn’t listen, but I can’t stop myself. I have to hear something about him. “Just like that? And you’re just telling me now? Why the hell did you wait adayto call me?” Catherine groans. “Fine. I’ll deal with this here, and you handle the mess there. Let him know he made a big mistake.Big.”
My shattered heart falls to the floor, he isn’tcoming.
I purposely make a noise, not wanting to hear anythingelse.
Catherine’s eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “Okay, I’ll call you later.” She tosses the phone onto the table, and her eyes are soft. “You lookbetter.”
I shrug. Right now, I feel the pain of losing him all over again. It wasn’t until then that I realized how much I thought he’d come back. I wanted it so much, and now it’s clear there isn’t anotherchance.
“Jackson has news?” I ask and mentally cringe at the sound of myvoice.
“Kris.” Cat walks over, and I shake myhead.
There’s a knock at the door, and Catherine touches my cheek. “It’s going to be okay, trust me. Jackson will fix it, he alwaysdoes.”
I nod. She walks to the door, and I head to the kitchen for something to help settle my nerves. I have a feeling Jackson’s news isn’t going to help the knots in my stomach. The pantry door is open, and my lips turn up when I see the package of cookies that Noah and Aubrey shared on the shelf. His face was priceless when I caughtthem.
There will be no more cookie-faces forthem.
