The Lucky One(92)

“I don’t want to listen! I’ve already been lied to enough.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“You want me to listen?” she screamed. “Listen to what? That you obsessed over a picture and came to find me because you believe it kept you safe? That’s insane, and the most disturbing thing is, you don’t even recognize that your explanation only makes you sound psychotic!”

He stared at her, and she saw his jaw clench shut.

She felt a shudder run through her. She was done with this. Done with him. “I want it back,” she gritted out. “I want the photo that I gave to Drake.”

When he didn’t respond, she reached over to the window ledge and grabbed a small flower pot. She threw it at him, shouting, “Where is it? I want it!”

Logan ducked as the pot whizzed overhead and crashed into the wall behind him. For the first time, Zeus barked in confusion.

“It’s not yours!” she shouted.

Logan stood straight again. “I don’t have it.”

“Where is it?” she demanded

Logan paused before answering. “I gave it to Ben,” he admitted.

Her eyes narrowed. “Get out.”

Logan paused before finally moving toward the door. Beth stepped away, keeping her distance from him. Zeus swiveled his gaze from Logan to Beth and back again before padding slowly after Logan.

At the door, Logan stopped and turned toward her.

“I swear on my life I didn’t come here to fall in love with you, or try to make you fall in love with me. But I did.”

She stared at him. “I told you to go and I meant it.”

With that, he turned and strode out into the storm.





29

Thibault

Despite the rain, Thibault couldn’t imagine going back to his house. He wanted to be outside; it didn’t feel right to be warm and dry. He wanted to purge himself of what he had done, of all the lies he had told.

She’d been right: He hadn’t been honest with her. Despite the hurt he felt at some of the things she’d said and her unwillingness to listen, she had been justified in feeling betrayed. But how to explain? He didn’t fully understand why he’d come, even when he tried to put it into words. He could see why she interpreted his actions as those of an obsessed madman. And, yes, he was obsessed, just not in the way she imagined.

He should have told her about the photograph as soon as he’d arrived, and he struggled to remember why he hadn’t done so. Odds were, she would have been surprised and asked a few questions, but it would have ended at that. He suspected that Nana would have hired him anyway, and then none of this would have happened.

More than anything, he wanted to turn around and go back to her. He wanted to explain, to tell his whole story from the beginning.

He wouldn’t, though. She needed time alone—or at least time away from him. Time to recover and maybe, just maybe, understand that the Thibault she’d come to care for was the only Thibault there was. He wondered whether time alone would bring forgiveness.

Thibault sank in the mud; he noted as a car passed slowly that the water reached its axles. Up ahead, he saw the river stretching across the road. He decided to cut through the woods. Perhaps this would be the last time he would make this walk. Perhaps it was time to return to Colorado.

Thibault moved forward. The autumn foliage, still hanging on, provided partial cover from the rain, and as he walked deeper into the woods, he felt the distance between them grow with each step he took.





30

Beth

Freshly showered, Beth was standing in her bedroom in an oversize T-shirt when Nana peeked her head in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nana said. She jerked her thumb toward the window. “The school called to tell me you were on your way home. The principal seemed a little worried about you, and later I saw you pull up to the office. I figured the two of you were having a spat.”

“It’s more than a spat, Nana,” Beth said, her tone weary.

“That I gathered from the fact that he left. And that you stayed on the porch so long afterwards.”

Beth nodded.

“Was it about Ben? He didn’t hurt him, did he? Or you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Beth said.

“Good. Because that’s the one thing that can’t be fixed.”

“I’m not sure this can, either.”

Nana stared out the window before heaving a great sigh. “I take it I’ll have to feed the dogs tonight, huh?”

Beth shot her a look of annoyance. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

“Kitty cats and maple trees,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Beth thought about it before finally grunting in frustration. “What does that mean?”

“It means nothing, but for a second there, you were too exasperated to feel sorry for yourself.”

“You don’t understand. . . .”

“Try me,” she said.

Beth looked up. “He stalked me, Nana. For five years, and then he trekked across the country to search for me. He was obsessed.”

Nana was uncharacteristically silent. “Why don’t you start from the beginning,” she suggested, taking a seat on Beth’s bed.

Beth wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it, but she figured it was better to get it over with. She began by recounting Keith’s visit to her classroom, and over the next twenty minutes, she told Nana about her abrupt departure from school, her agonizing uncertainty, and ended with her confrontation with Logan. When she finished, Nana folded her hands together in her lap.