“Will—Stone—wait, please. I need to explain.”
But I’ve already shut her down.
Shoving the door open, I call, “Ma?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Noa
Iresist racing through the gap between Stone’s body and the doorframe to get inside and block him from entering, but only just.
“Ma?” he calls again, stepping over the threshold.
I follow, wringing my hands and picturing my brain in the same jumbled mess as my fingers.
Does he really not know? How could Stone not be aware of his mom’s cancer? Did Mrs. Stalinski not tell him, or is it because he’s basically cut the entire town of Falcon Haven out of his life—including his mother?
I’m guessing the latter, but have trouble picturing either Stone or Mrs. Stalinski doing something so hurtful to the other.
Except, here Stone is, dumbfounded, but hiding it with increasing stiffness as his mind puts the pieces together.
My nursing uniform.
His mother’s lack of response.
Carly’s over-the-top, icy behavior toward him, even for her.
“Ma.”
“She’s sleeping.”
Stone whirls, his luggage thumping to the floor. “It’s seven in the evening. She should be eating dinner, not sleeping.”
“Her dinner’s warming in the oven.” I gesture to the kitchen behind him. “She eats later these days and will probably get to it around nine.”
Stone snaps his attention toward the kitchen, then back to me. “You made the dinner?”
“Yes.”
“But Ma loves cooking.”
“She does, but hasn’t had the energy lately.”
Stone’s throat bobs. His startling blue eyes stay glued to mine. “Why would that be?”
The moment of truth. I want to throw up. My gut churns like it really wants to follow through with that thought. “She…”
“Tell me, Noa.”
His voice is harsh, soft, and full of grit. Stone’s hands clench against his sides, the tendons protruding and turning an alarming purple.
Against my will, my vision blurs. Time should’ve made this easier, but I never look forward to hurting someone. Even when it’s him. “Stone, I’m so sorry.”
His stare shrinks. Stone steps forward like he’s prepared to shake the truth out of me. I’m certain if he steps any closer, I’ll be able to hear the wild thumps of his heart.
“Honeybear? Do I hear your voice?”
Mrs. Stalinski’s soft question at the top of the stairs makes Stone step back with a tiny wince. I swear cool air brushes against my cheeks at his retreat. I close my eyes and breathe in deep.
