Page 96 of Meet Me in the Valley
But I don’t.
The door creaks open, and I just stand there frozen. Paralyzed.
She’s leaving in slow motion, and all I can do is watch it happen like some cruel déjà vu. And then, just before she steps out, her broken hazel eyes lift to meet mine.
But it’s not my Tia staring back at me. No.
It’s the gaunt-faced lady. Walking out on me all over again.
Chapter Thirty
TIA
“Nora, open the door!”
My fist raps hard against the splintered wood of my sister’s front door, echoing loud in my ears. There’s no use fighting back the tears that have been falling from my eyes since I left Logan alone in our hotel room.
The driver who brought me to Nora’s doorstep must have thought I was having a mental breakdown, judging by his constant glances back at me through the rearview mirror—probably to check I wasn’t having a brain aneurysm.
Suitcase in hand, I bang on Nora’s door three more times before it opens in a sudden whoosh, the force of my knocking nearly propelling me forward.
“Tia?” Nora looks like a deer caught in headlights. She sees my suitcase, then notices the red rims around my eyes, swollen with a well of emotions that have been storming through me since Logan’s painful confession.
“I slept with Krista.”
Logan’s admission triggered something ugly inside of me. Taking what he did at face value, my reaction to it all felt hypocritical. He insists it’s not my fault—that what he did withKrista was a way to punish himself for feeling something deep for me.
“You told me you felt nothing for me. I asked you, remember? At the airport. You denied me, and I fucking spiraled. I’m not using that as an excuse for my actions, but it fucked me up more than I expected. I didn’t realize then that I had already fallen for you.”
He’d already fallen for me.
And I’m the one who planted that seed of doubt. I’m the one who shoved him away with a lie that cost us both more than we knew. I may as well have handed him Krista on a silver platter.
What did I expect? That one emotionally charged weekend would suddenly rewrite his patterns? That he’d stop sleeping around for someone who couldn’t even admit she wanted him?
Mixing our friendship with sex—erotically raw, all-consuming,earth-shatteringsex—was always a gamble. A beautiful, reckless risk that was never meant to last. We flew too close to the sun. And now we’re paying for it by burning at the stake.
But I can’t unpack all of that now. Not here. Not when everything between us is already unraveling. Not when I’m a battered mess at my sister’s doorstep.
“What happened? You’re shaking. Get in here,” Nora coos softly, like if she were to speak any louder, I’d break.
I say nothing as I walk through her door with my suitcase trailing behind. Automatically looking for Cali, I don’t see her as I make my way through Nora’s house. It’s quiet, save for the soft bubble of boiling water on the stove.
Nora sneaks behind me, turning the gas off. I’m not really sure where to go. Do I sit at the kitchen table? The living room loveseat? Get fresh air on the patio? It’s as if I’m in a comatose state.
Nora’s big sister sense kicks in, answering my rambling thoughts for me. “Come sit with me,” she gestures to the living room. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She takes my suitcase for me, rolling it into an open space near the hall. I don’t make a move until her hand gently nudges the small of my back, guiding me to the loveseat.
Nora heads into the kitchen, situating some tea with the water she was boiling from earlier. Almost like she knew I’d be coming. I know it’s not true, though. I requested a ride share with Nora’s address as my destination, fueled with determination to complete the mission I came here for and makesomethinggood of this trip.
I gave her no warning I’d be coming. No text, no call. Just a whim and a prayer she’d answer the door.
Fragrant jasmine wafts through the air as Nora settles two cups of tea in front of us. The scent should bring me some sort of comfort, but it only puts me on edge. Maybe Nora did this on purpose—jasmine tea is Mom’s favorite. But it almost feels like an insult.
Funny how this exact scenario played out just yesterday, sitting here in this chair across from someone I’m still seeking answers from. It’s like I’ve lived a thousand lives in twenty-four hours. Like I’ve aged ten years too, with the relentless assault of emotions I’ve experienced within those twenty-four hours.
“Where’s Logan?”
