Page 97 of Shattered Oaths

“Just not with your sister?” I counter.

“Did I stop you?” He snaps.

“What?”

“That day in the barn, when I confronted you. Did I stop you? Did I tell you to stay away from her? Did I interfere in any way?” He throws the questions at me one after the other, never skipping a beat.

“No,” I respond, averting my eyes.

“No. I didn’t. Did I like it? No, the fuck I did not. Did the sight of you putting your hands on my sister make me sick? Yes, not because I was against it, but because she’s my sister and you’re my best friend. That was metrusting you.”

Fuck.

Collapsing back into my chair, I let his words settle in my chest, the double meaning behind them all too clear.

Had I gone to him all those years ago, he would have accepted it. Albeit, he wouldn’t have been happy about it, but he would have accepted it.

So much time has been wasted for no reason. Because I had held on to a promise I made to my friend when I was a kid instead of being a man and owning up to the way I truly feel.

“You need to fix this shit, Noah. I can’t watch my sister suffer anymore.”

I look over at him, seeing the acceptance still there in his eyes despite everything I’ve done.

“I’m not sure it’s fixable.” And that’s the thing that scares me the most.

“It is.” His tone is so final, so adamant that it sends a spark of hope through my veins and lessens the weight that’s been heavy in my chest for over a week now.

We sit there for a little while longer before Killian tells me good night and heads to bed, while I climb back into my truck and hunker down for another night of sleeping in my driver’s seat.

And when I’m finally comfortable, I grab my phone and the knot in my stomach unwinds just a fraction, a small smile on my lips when I see the text waiting for me.

Bella:Good night, Noah.

CHAPTER 42

BELLA

My sunglasses remain firmly planted over my eyes as I stroll the aisles of Fairhope Farm, trying my best to ignore the knowing glances and the whispered conversations being had as I pass.

The people of this town haven’t an ounce of discretion, and honestly, it pisses me off.

I knew it would take no time at all for word to spread around town after my dirty laundry was hung in the middle of The Dusty Boot for all to see but, Jesus Christ, it’s been two weeks. Do they not have anything better to do?

This is precisely why I’ve been avoiding going into my café. It’s why it has taken me two whole weeks to even leave the safety of my brother’s house.

But I had no choice. Because it’s Sunday, and I haven’t stopped by my mom’s in… I do the mental calculation in my head and pause. It’s been three weeks since the last time I dropped groceries off to her.

No groceries mean only one thing.

“Ahh, Bella. I was wondering when one of you Ashby kids would finally drop by,” Mabel Fairhope says as I approach the counter.

“How much does she owe?” I ask with a sigh, not feeling the need to beat around the bush. I don’t have the energy for false conversation, and I’d rather get the heck out of here as soon as possible.

“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” she says and I pause, my purse in my hand and my eyes wide behind my dark shades.

“What? What the hell did she steal?”

Mrs Fairhope rummages below the counter before reappearing with a screwed-up piece of paper in her hand. She lifts the glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and perches them on the end of her nose. “Four bottles of vodka, six packets of Marlboro and a tray of ramen, not all in the same run.”