Page 120 of Wanted You More

I snort dryly. “I don’t think she’d appreciate my mistakes.”

Ben’s lips start to lift before flattening back into a neutral position. “We all have to figure life out at our own pace. You could never cheat on your mother’s memory because you’d never forget her. It doesn’t matter if another eleven years go by, or twenty years do. That’s what these events stand for as much as anything. People want to remind others of what was lost and how we can ensure nobody else has to deal with the same grief.”

I rub my arm and realize something about the man in front of me. “You’ve been to these events before.”

His eyes go toward the signs everywhere before confirming as much. “There were some that I went to that were frowned upon by the station. They felt it wouldn’t be seen as professional to attend, even if I went as a resident. It never stopped me.”

“Why not?” As someone who avoided these things at all cost, it’s hard for me to understand his motivation. “Wasn’t it hard for you?”

A sad smile appears on his aged face. “I saw a lot of things in my career, Austen. Very few of those things were easy. If showing up in support of the people could make a difference, I’ll do it.”

I look down, toeing the ground with the tip of my sandal. “You must think I’m selfish for not thinking the same thing.”

“No,” is his firm response. There’s no hesitation on his part. “Your father did what he felt was best for his family. You and your brother were young and needed time to grieve and process everything without all of this. Like I said, everybody handles those things differently. The important thing is that you’re giving this a chance now.”

“I don’t think I’m following. What am I here to give a chance?”

His face is softer than normal. “Healing. Living.”

He grabs my shoulder and squeezes once before gesturing toward something else.

Someone.

Noah, who’s speaking to a few people lingering by where the ambulance is stationed off to the side.

As if he knows we’re looking, his focus shifts to us. When we lock eyes, there’s a spark in my chest that’s impossible to ignore.

It’s always there when he’s nearby.

Oxygen to my tight lungs.

Warmth to my cold limbs.

Maybe Ben is right.

I’m here. I need to live.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Ispend Fourthof July huddled under the sheets of Noah’s bed with his warm body, skilled hands, and talented mouth, distracting me from the loud noises that would normally have me curled up in a fetal position.

From there, the days are spent with family and friends and nights spent in delicious positions that Noah put me in when the sun goes down. There are very few people who I give all control to. Few people I trust.

Noah has always had it.

As another summer break ends and a new school year looms, I find myself anxious about the distance it’ll put between Noah and me again. He finds time for me whenever possible, but I can tell how tired he is by the day’s end. It makes me feel guilty for using his free time when I know he needs to rest.

To show him I’m grateful, I buy his favorite sandwich and walk into Schuman and Brother’s Law Firm to hand deliver it. It was Marybelle’s idea when I told her I wanted to do something nice for him since he’s always doing something for me. Like proofing the article I wrote about the marathon before I submitted it to the local paper. It wasn’t easy to write, and I got a little too personal in my opinion about the media, but I didn’t hold back.

It’d been freeing.

As I’m rounding the corner into the open workspace full of desks and cubicles, I see a familiar brunette pressed against Noah in a hug.

A pang of hurt threatens to shatter my heart as I see Noah wrap his arms around Bailey in return. They’re talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying because I’m too far away.

It’s hard, and my fight-or-flight wants to do a little of both—throat punch the woman touching my boyfriend and then run—but I know I need to trust Noah. Why wouldn’t I when he’s done nothing to make me think I shouldn’t?

He cheated, that tiny voice in the back of my head reminds me.

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