Page 20 of One Forbidden Moment

He carried her down the empty street, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he knew she was barely holding on.

Her tears soaked into his shirt.He held her tighter and carried her all the way to his house.When he reached the porch, he paused, adjusting her weight in his arms.She blinked up at him through blurry eyes.His face was shadowed, unreadable, but his grip stayed firm.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.

Jillian had no hope for tomorrow.She had no idea how she'd survive in Everstill.

Yet she held onto Moe because he was the only thing she had, and he wasn't letting her go.

Chapter 9

Jillian

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Days blurred togetheruntil they stopped feeling like days at all.Morning, afternoon, evening, each one slid into the next without edges, without meaning, without anything to hold on to.Jillian sat on the couch, knees pulled up, staring at the wall like it might eventually give her something to feel.She couldn't remember how long it had been since Moe dragged her into Everstill.A month.A year.Longer.

There was no clock in the house.The one on the stove wasn't set.Without her cell phone, she was unable to tell which day of the week it was.

Time stretched and folded and dissolved until she couldn't tell one hour from the next.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost forget that she'd worked at the store today.She navigated her day by routines.After work, she returned home with Moe and usually slipped into the shower.

But she wasn't ready to take her shower.She wasn't ready to move.She waited for dinner because eating meant the day was almost over, and sleep was the only time she got a break from the misery pressing down on her.In her dreams, she was back home with her mother.

Moe hovered nearby."What do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever," she murmured.

"How do the clothes fit?"he asked.

She glanced down at her legs.Brent had taken a couple of pairs of jeans from the store, cut them down, and re-sewn them to fit her.Moe had asked him for that favor.It shouldn't have made a difference to her.They were still stiff and heavy, but she had to agree that it was better than wearing the same set of clothes day after day.

"Fine."

He waited, as if he expected more.She didn't give him anything because she had nothing left to give.Whatever he fixed to eat, she'd end up picking at until he finally told her to put her dish in the sink.