Page 74 of Stolen for Keeps
But that wasn’t my life.
“You okay, Blue?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
Noah shifted beside me. “Hey…talk to me.”
Oh, God. He saw.
I cleared my throat, forcing a smile that didn’t stand a chance. “Just a sad thought. One I’m not sharing.”
“Come here,” he said, pulling me into a hug.
He didn’t push for more, didn’t ask questions, which made it worse. So much worse. That hug was devastating in its gentleness, and I was holding on by threads, fighting like hell not to fall apart in his arms.
His body felt like everything I’d ever wanted. The kind of strength you could lean on. The kind of calm that could quiet a storm like me.
Why did goodbyes always hit the hardest when your heart was finally daring to hope?
Why did touch feel the realest right before it slipped away?
He let go. And this time, I made myself hold together. Barely.
Like always, he walked me to my car and opened the doorfor me. No hesitation, no expectation. Just that composed, constant way of his that slipped past every wall I’d built.
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.
His expression shifted with sadness and concern, like he’d caught every thought I hadn’t said out loud. As if I’d pressed my feelings into him, and they’d soaked through his skin.
Or maybe I was just imagining it, seeing things that weren’t really there.
“Drive safe.” His voice was careful, as if he knew I wasn’t just leaving for the night.
The road stretched empty ahead, but I felt cornered and boxed in by the choices I’d made. My vision blurred, my tears burning their way down before I could stop them.
By the time I reached the motel, my heart was in ruins, drowned in its own grief.
I packed up. There wasn’t much, just the essentials, the secondhand clothes, the boots I’d picked up for cheap, and the few toiletries Sheryn had insisted I needed. Nothing in this bag had any real worth. Nothing but the weight of a stolen past I couldn’t unload.
And then the necklace.
I moved it from my small bag into the duffel, pausing just a second too long before zipping it shut.
Then, headlights swept across the lot, and a truck rolled in, parking right beside mine.
Noah.
I barely had time to process before his knock came, swift and firm.
“Maya?”
I was caught between staying still and moving away. But he knew I was there.
“Just a minute.”
I needed a second. Just one.
To shove down the panic in my throat and to figure out whether Noah showing up right now was fate…
