Chapter 42

Agonizing seconds went by, then he strode to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. He pinched his eyes closed. But it was his low, tortured admission that clawed her from the inside out.

"I wish it had been me."

The door shut quietly behind him.

Time collapsed and the room vacuumed of oxygen. The longer she stood in the middle of the room, alone and gutted, the more she bled out until she was a numb, vacant shell.

Had she been too quick to forgive him? Was she letting her feelings for him pollute rational thought?

She didn't think so. Aside from failing to tell her about his role in Justin's death, Nate had never lied to her. In fact, getting him to talk about his past, about anything, had been like pulling teeth from a rabid wolf. No one would make up stories like that. Besides, his behavior backed up everything.

What was she supposed to do now? Could she fix it, make him understand? Did he just need space?

Justin. Dear, sweet Justin. That's what she needed. To talk