the fact that Will seemed to know she would come, the door to his place left open a crack. When she pushed it open slowly, she saw he was in the kitchen, his back to her as he unloaded supplies from his bucket, his shoulders set with tension.
“Will?”
He stilled briefly and then turned, his eyes going immediately, unerringly, to the photo she held at her side. When he looked back at her, she could tell the effort he was making—every line of his face, his body, looked so carefully arranged.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I overreacted, I know.”
“You didn’t.” She knew he didn’t, even if she didn’t know all the details about his parents. She knew enough. She knew that whatever he saw in that photo represented everything painful to him about the way they’d been together, about the way they would’ve let him go.
He nodded toward the couch, where the battered book rested. “You can go ahead and put the photo back in there. I’ll take care of it later.”
Take care of it, she could tell, did not mean putting it somewhere safe. It had sort of a Let me tie cement to it and throw it in the lake energy.
But that wasn’t her business, so she did as he asked, not looking at the photograph again as she slid it between the pages, and then she went to where he stood, stepped into him, and put her arms around his waist.
At first, he responded like he’d been waiting for it, like he had an instinct for it—his own arms wrapping around her shoulders, his head lowering to rest against hers, the breath he’d been holding in his chest letting out slowly. She tightened her arms, wanting to hold him like that for as long as it took for him to feel better.
But not long after he’d settled against her, he straightened again, unwrapping his arms and reaching behind him to where she held him. Gently, he loosened her hold, clearing his throat.
“Door’s open,” he said quietly, stepping back from her.
She ignored the unease she felt at the way he said it, reminded herself that the secrecy had been her idea all along.
“I don’t care,” she said, which wasn’t quite what she’d been planning on telling him today, but she supposed it was on the way to it.
He didn’t respond, only resumed his quiet unpacking of supplies. Nora looked around, saw Marian was right—it was pretty tidy in here. Still, she said, “Want me to help? Maybe afterward, we could get out of here, go get something to eat, or—” She broke off, struck with an idea that she thought might make things better, given what that photograph must’ve brought up for him. “We could go to your place?”
They’d never done that, not in all these days since they’d started to hang out even beyond the building. It didn’t seem that Will had any particular hang-ups about it, and it wasn’t like Nora had been dying to see it or anything—it just hadn’t happened yet. But now felt like the perfect time. Distance plus privacy, which might be exactly what he needed.
“I think I might go in to the clinic later. If this isn’t going to take all day.”
He wasn’t looking at her when he said it, but almost as soon as he’d finished speaking he set down the spray bottle he was holding and rubbed a hand over his face, sighing heavily.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“It’s really okay. I’m sure it’s hard, getting surprised by something like that. Something that’s painful for you.”
He breathed out a quiet huff, a laugh that wasn’t at all a laugh.
“It’s not,” he said, a stubborn note to his voice that he went on to correct. “It shouldn’t be. It’s a nice picture.”
Nora swallowed, uncertain. He didn’t like to talk about his parents; she knew that from the few times they’d come up. But all of a sudden, she had the feeling that if he didn’t talk about them, she’d never be able to tell him what she’d started this day so optimistic about.
She’d never be able to choose him.
“Well, I know, but . . . I don’t know. What everyone said, when they saw it.” Her voice tipped up at the end, an unintentional inflection. She wasn’t asking him any kind of question, not really. She was just . . . confused.
“They didn’t say anything wrong. They were young. They were in love. I shouldn’t have said what I did, about the