62. The Weight of a Promise

~ RIG ~

I was in the kitchen staring into the fridge and considering a beer—maybe that would ease this relentless tugging in my chest—when the doorbell rang. Jack opened the door, and the wind that blew inside sent the hair on the back of my neck to attention again.

Natalie.

She’d been a lot more quiet since all of this began. A lot more like the old Natalie who could be authentic, and sweet, and funny as hell. But my neck still itched every time she was near. I knew we needed to keep up appearances—I’d told her to make sure we didn’t go more than a day without seeing each other. But it still rankled.

This wasn’t the female I yearned for, and that was becoming harder and harder to hide.

I grabbed a coke instead of the be