Chapter 4

Cracks

I found out about her on a Thursday.

Noah was leaning against the kitchen counter in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, phone in one hand, half-eaten toast in the other. He was smiling at the screen the way he smiled when something genuinely pleased him soft around the eyes, a little distracted. I knew that smile. I had spent years collecting versions of it.

“Who’s that?” I asked, keeping my voice light as I reached past him for coffee.

He glanced up, still smiling. “Just this girl from the gym. Maya. We’ve been talking. Might grab drinks tomorrow.”

Just this girl.

Might grab drinks.

The words landed...