The words she wanted to say were on her lips, but they would do no one any good now. They would only complicate things, make them worse when they were already impossibly bad. I love you was not going to fix anything today.
“Will I see you at home?” Noah’s question dripped with the same doubt Lily was carrying around in her heart.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Thinking about going to the bookstore? What’s it called?”
“Petticoats and Proposals.”
“Right. How could I forget?” He laughed quietly.
“And it’s only Thursday. I go there on Fridays.” Even the promise of a romance novel couldn’t lift her spirits right now.
Noah pressed another kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you soon. It’ll be okay. Somehow.”
She nodded, even though she wasn’t sure what she was agreeing to. “Okay.” She climbed into the car and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Are we headed to the Grand Legacy, ma’am?”
“For now, yes.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Noah got home early that night. He couldn’t stand being around Sawyer or the office anymore. “Lily?” he asked. “You home?” He dropped his keys on the foyer table, but the sound echoed through his apartment in a way it never had before. He felt her absence in his bones. Coming home to an apartment that had no Lily was a whole new level of empty. Warmth and happiness were gone, and in their place was the clatter of metal keys on hollow wood. “Lily?” he called one more time, but there was no response. Noah had never felt more alone.
He still refused to believe that Lily had betrayed Sawyer and him. It didn’t seem plausible, but the evidence was damning. After she’d left, he and Sawyer had talked over the timeline and it all made her look that much more guilty. Had she pulled the wool over their eyes? Was there a cold and calculating woman under that guise of perfect employee? She was no ordinary employee, either. She had the paperwork to claim her 3 percent of Locke and Locke forever, which was awfully convenient. The thought of Lily conspiring with their dad, undermining them, sabotaging their hard work was unthinkable, but the evidence was there and Sawyer was pushing him hard to believe every shred of it. Use your brain, Noah. It’s right here in black-and-white. She screwed us over.
This was the price he’d avoided paying for so long. If you don’t get close to people, they can’t hurt you. Noah had never had to worry about money. He’d never had to worry about his career or the roof over his head or whether or not his future was secure. The only thing he’d ever had to worry about was whether anyone would not only love him, but whether they would actually stick around. He was the unlovable one—the guy who only skimmed the surface and was, thus, easy to walk away from. He’d feared that for half of his life and been sure of it for the other. And Lily had only proven his theory. She’d walked away from him today.
He wandered into the kitchen. She’d cleaned up. So much so that it was as if she’d never been there. Her tin of tea bags was gone. The flowers she’d put on the center island were, as well. He opened the refrigerator and everything was neat and tidy, and exactly the way it had been before she moved in. No nonfat yogurt. No bowl of strawberries. Just milk for cereal, orange juice and beer. Bachelor staples. And that was about to be his life again.
He closed the refrigerator door. He couldn’t fathom deriving pleasure from food ever again. Instead, he headed for the home bar, loosened his tie, poured himself a double tequila and downed it. He stared straight up at the ceiling and focused on the burn. It hurt all right. Everything hurt right now and he’d better get used to it. There would be no more covering up pain with meaningless hookups or laughing it off with a joke he’d made one hundred times. He couldn’t live like that anymore. He needed to embrace the pain of his existence, wrap his head around the reality and find a way to get up tomorrow morning, go back to work and hope that he and Sawyer could hold on to the Grand Legacy and keep the Hannafort deal together.
But first, one more drink. The second one burned as badly as the first. So much for numbing himself to anything at all right now. He replaced the stopper on the bottle and shuffled down the hall and straight back to his bedroom. He took one look at the bed and was smacked in the face with a memory he’d been so eager to cling to. Twenty-four measly hours ago, he’d been as happy as he’d ever been. He’d climbed out from under the secret he’d kept for two years, confessed that Lily had always had his number and her reaction had been everything he’d been so terrified to hope for.