questions were causing me pain. If this was her idea of being assertive, I could understand why strong women got a bad name, which was patently unfair, since persistence was a good trait. But to be persistent at the expense of human decency?
“I think I should leave,” I said as levelly as I could with my insides unsteady and my anger rising.
“Is Ned why you’ve never dated? Do you love him?”
“Nina…”
“Why four years? And why Devon?” she asked. “From what I read, you had a life filled with people, but you’ve been alone here. How do you do it?”
That was it, one question too many. “Is there a point to this?” I asked sharply and was startled when her voice became a hoarse whisper.
“There is. I had a life filled with people, too, but I don’t here. Here I have respect and anonymity and nice people and perfect makeup”—desperation appeared in her eyes—“and a shitload of hours all alone with nothing to do but relive the past, which I can’t do a thing to change. It’s lonely and depressing, and I know you know what I mean. You’ve been on the unfair side of life, so you have to know the anger of it, and coming here is both the best thing and the worst. It’s an escape but not. I want to know how you do it. I need help, Maggie—and I call you Maggie, because it’s the name of someone I trust. I don’t care what happened in Boston. How do you do it here, now?”
I might have laughed hysterically. Was she was actually looking for help from me? All the care I’d taken to protect my identity, to protect my heart, to what end? I’d royally botched it.
The thought lasted for only a split second, because just then Edward emerged from the innards of the Inn, passed Joyce’s desk with a small pat—like a thank-you for calling him—and joined us.
The hand that touched my back was light, but not so light that I didn’t feel it. I sought his eyes, actually hoping their pale-blue would take me to Lily and dampen my anger. But those eyes were all Edward, whom I liked but didn’t, whom I wanted but didn’t, and who by any account had helped cause this mess.
“Everything okay here?” he asked Nina.
She seemed nonplussed, like she hadn’t anticipated his arrival and didn’t know what to say.
But I did. “I’m leaving,” I announced and, letting Edward’s soothing hand fall away, strode off. I didn’t look at Joyce as I passed her. Something about the way she’d contacted Edward said she knew everything, and, at that moment, I was too angry at the world for betraying me to be able to deal with the shame of my crime.
At least, Michael Shanahan hadn’t shown up, although the day wasn’t done.
I hurried down the corridor to the back exit, pushed the door open, rushed outside—and stopped short. Not Michael, but Chris Emory. With his gray hoodie, curved back, and gangly legs, he was propped barely six feet away on the split-rail fence that led to the parking lot. Though he had clearly tried to hide his hair in the fleece, wayward curls caught the late-day sun like a halo intent on escape, but that was the most benign thing about him. His hands were visible fists in the hoodie’s muff pocket, his shoulders hunched, his brows tight.
I didn’t look around for the press. Chris would have scoped the parking lot before exposing himself this way, not to mention that I was too irritated just then with all of it to care who saw me, him, us. As he stood, his expression went from forbidding to frightened. I should have been worried. But he was fifteen, no baby, and his face wasn’t what I needed.
Willing sympathy away, I stood rock-still and stared. “Problem?”
“Yeah.” He came toward me and said in a grudging voice, “People. Everyone’s talking about it, and Mom won’t answer texts.”
The door opened behind me. That would be Edward.
“She’s still working,” I said, but Chris was eying Edward with unease. “Ignore him. He’s with me. Does Grace know you’re here?”
His wary gaze hung on Edward for a minute, before sliding back to me. He lowered his voice to keep the conversation private, though Edward was there at my shoulder. “I told her I was. She didn’t say anything about that either—like, she doesn’t tell me to stay or leave, just ignores me, but I have to see her.