Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ella

It was a good thing I was at the end of my shift, because I was close to the end of my rope. I moved toward the nurses' station and took off my name tag, placing it next to the others, then tapped the computer and signed out.

Mercy, my boss and best friend, eyed me. "You okay?"

I nodded and then sucked in a breath. If only I hadn't spoken to Noah. That was a mistake. My hand shook as I went to the locker room and retrieved my purse.

Mercy followed me. "You're not okay. Would this have anything to do with Noah Armstrong being back in town?"

A stilted laugh came out of me. "I'm not in the mood to discuss it, okay?"

"It's okay to be rattled," she told me, shaking her head. "And it's okay to talk to your best friend about it."

I kept walking, holding up a hand. "Thank you, but I can't."

"You're welcome, and it's okay."

I smiled a little. The annoying thing about a small town was that everyone knew your business, but there were benefits to that. Mercy knew I wouldn't want to talk about Noah Armstrong.

Once I was on my own again, I got in the elevator and pressed the button for the parking level. This wasn't a huge hospital, but it had been built two years ago and had a parking garage, which I was grateful for. I would definitely be grateful for it in the winter. Winters were brutal here. I'd come in the spring, and now the end of June was upon us. The best time to be in Refuge Falls was in the summer.

Too bad seeing Noah had put a damper on all of that.

I walked to my car and settled into the driver's seat, musing that Noah no doubt blamed me for our breakup. But I blamed him for … too much. For everything. The accident. For saving me.

He never should have saved me.

I sucked in a deep breath. My eyes burned at the familiar resentment stabbing through me.

No. I wouldn't think about the past eight years.

Picking up the water bottle in my cup holder and taking a sip, I tried to clear my mind, but thoughts of my brother, Greg, bubbled to the surface.

How could those memories not come back to me after seeing Noah? The three of us had been inseparable. Until the accident. Noah blamed himself for it. I blamed Noah for it, too. It was his fault. He had chosen to save someone besides my brother.

He should have chosen my brother.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I clamped down on that train of thought. That's what my therapist had taught me: the thoughts might be there, but I could decide how much energy I gave them.

Deep breath. In, two, three, and out, two, three.

Coming back here was supposed to be a fresh start. I'd thought I was safe because Noah steered clear of this town. I'd run into his sister, Kayla, at my grandmother's funeral last year when I'd found out I'd inherited her lake house. Kayla had told me Noah only ever came home at Christmas. I'd talked myself into coming back home because I thought I would be safe.

Home. What a funny word. Yes, Refuge Falls was my home, but it wasn't because of the home I'd been raised in. My parents were the kind of people who never really wanted children, and they spoke about having twins like it was a huge inconvenience. They had always told me and Greg that we were a huge "oops" and they had important journalism stories to write. They'd left most of the child-rearing up to our grandmother, which had suited us just fine. They'd sold their home in Refuge Falls a few years ago and were now based in New York, a place that seemed to suit them.

My mother had told me at my grandmother's funeral that I should sell the place and move to the city. Focus on getting more education. Maybe become a doctor. Pfft. I liked being a nurse. My parents were all about degrees and who you knew and what conspiracy to write about next; I wasn't interested in any of that.

It had been strange having that conversation with my mom. She and Dad had never really taken part in my life. Sure, they had been there for every milestone event. They'd shown up at my high school graduation long enough for a picture and dinner before jet-setting back to whatever story they'd been working on. My grandma and I had gone over to the Armstrongs' house to celebrate instead.

The Armstrongs. Ugh. I'd tried to steer clear of them since I'd been home, but that was nearly impossible. The family was large and very involved in the town.

It was difficult to stay away from anyone in town, actually. Hardly a day after I'd moved back, Mercy had cornered me in the grocery store. She'd grilled me about a lot of things, but her main goal was to ask me about working with her at the hospital. They needed nurses, and I could help. I'd taken the job, and even though I got looks and people still said stupid and hurtful things about the loss of my brother, it was a relief to work. I liked helping others, and it got my mind off Brian.

As if just thinking about my ex could conjure him, my phone buzzed with a call from him. I pushed decline, but then it buzzed again. It'd been over six months since the divorce, but he wouldn't quit bugging me.

Huffing in annoyance, I drove out of the parking garage and toward the highway.

My ex was another mistake from my past. No one knew the truth about him and me. That was good; there were so many things I was ashamed of. I was grateful my grandmother had left me her house when she'd passed. I hated that she was gone from this earth, but her house had given me the freedom I needed, as well as the courage to file for divorce papers. We'd only been married two years, but I should have divorced him sooner.

The first time he'd hit me, I'd been struck equally hard by shame.

Swallowing, I pounded the steering wheel. Why was all of this affecting me today? It probably had something to do with seeing Noah so unexpectedly.

The path not taken. That's what Noah symbolized for me. A path where our lives would have been intertwined, but … it hadn't happened.

I sucked in another breath, forcing myself to calm down. I had gotten away from the monster I'd been married to. That was a good thing. Grandma's house had given me the chance to restart my life without stooping to asking my parents for help. I was safe now, back in my hometown.

I drove toward my home, passing the turn to the Armstrong property. I didn't have to think of the past and all the stupid decisions. Noah wouldn't stay in Refuge Falls. No way. He was only here because of his father, who would be okay in no time. It was fine. Everything was fine.

Turning on the radio, I tried to clear my mind. Noah Armstrong wasn't a problem. Facing the past wasn't a problem. The past would be leaving town in a couple days.

I toyed with the idea of skipping work for the next few days and focusing my time on repairing my grandmother's home. My home. Too bad skipping work and avoiding people was something my therapist and I had agreed I shouldn't do. Avoidance had been one of the biggest problems in my marriage.

When Brian called again, I told myself I was done avoiding him. "We're not talking, Brian. That's what divorce is. Not talking."

"Wait. I just … I had a bill come in, and I wanted to make sure it was good with you if I canceled it."

"What bill?" He'd been making these kinds of excuses for talking to me lately—sorting out all the bills and insurance and blah blah blah after the divorce.

"Um. That life insurance policy we bought for you."

His tone sounded uncertain. It confused me. "What?"

"Fine. It's not about a bill. Ella, look, we can't be divorced. I need you. I have been getting help, and I need to see you."

"No," I snapped. "I can't do this with you, Brian. Don't call again."

"Did you know I'm not even working? I can't be called a doctor after what I did. I took an oath: ‘Do no harm.' And I technically broke it by how I treated you. I realize that now."

I hesitated. "I'm glad you see that." Apparently, all the therapy he was doing now was finally having an effect on him. If only he'd started doing it when I'd brought it up to him again and again.

"Let me come see you. We can talk all of this out."

"Brian," I said, trying to keep my words calm. "We're finished. While I'm happy you are getting help, it doesn't mean I want to talk to you."

"How can you do that?" he said, his voice rising. "Just act like you care, then turn me away when I need you. Can't you see that I need you?"

I hung up, fuming. This was his tactic: constantly finding ways to talk to me, to try to apologize, to say he needed me.

My phone buzzed. A text popped up from Brian.

We're not done, Ella. We can't be done.

I chucked my phone onto the passenger seat. I was angry now. Ironically, that made me feel better. Anger was a nice emotional change from being afraid or insecure. "We are done, Brian. We are so done!"

I tried to focus on the radio for a few minutes, but I couldn't let the music all the way in. My monkey mind kept reminding me about all the stupid stuff with Brian, occasionally adding flashes of Noah's face for good measure. Ugh.

Finally, I grabbed my phone and pressed Mercy's phone number.

She answered on the first ring. "Are you okay?"

I sighed, hating that I was so vulnerable. "I've had an emergency come up, and I'll be out of town for the next couple days. I'm sorry."

"You mean Noah Armstrong? That emergency?"

"Mercy, please. I'll be back at work on Monday. I'll just take Sunday off."

"Ella, you have tomorrow off."

Right. My breathing was shallow, and I forced myself to suck in air. Sunday was my regular day off. "Sorry I called. I'll let you go."

"Wait."

I hedged between pressing the red button on the screen in my car and not wanting to hang up on my best friend.

"You have to forgive yourself for what happened."

I was stunned she was talking to me about this. "What?"

"For Greg's death, girl," she said, her tone soft. "He wouldn't want you to keep punishing yourself … or Noah. You need to find a way to forgive."

I was quiet, but my heart raced. Annoyingly, tears sprang to my eyes. Mercy knew what tomorrow was. She knew that it was my fault, and Noah's fault. "I …"

"Just turn back and come to town and have dinner with me. Let's talk this through."

My hands shook on the steering wheel, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with fury. I was angry at Mercy, angry at Noah, and angry that I had to explain myself, because Mercy probably did know more about the whole situation than anyone else. She hadn't been there that day, but she was my best friend. I'd cried to her over the years and talked about everything. She was a key factor in why I'd felt like I could come back to Refuge Falls. She'd always made me feel understood and safe.

"I will never forgive him or myself. You know that." My mouth was dry. "I will see you Monday."

I hung up. There was no point in staying on the phone and arguing with Mercy.

My eyes burned again. I let out a frustrated scream and pounded the steering wheel. Why had Noah Armstrong come back to Refuge Falls? Why had I tried to talk to him and touched his arm? Why was I even thinking about the way he'd looked at me when I'd told him I was sorry about his dad?

I put the phone down and focused on the road, then took the turn toward my home. The road was winding, and I passed a few other houses on the lake.

The sight of my home nearly took my breath away, and it had a calming effect on me. This was my home. Mine. I could hide away as long as I needed to.

I would go back to work on Monday. I wouldn't let the past control me. Not my abusive ex, not the man who'd broken my heart, and not losing my brother.

Once I parked and got out of the car, I walked toward the edge of the dock and sucked in a long breath, relishing the peace and quiet of the lake. I was okay. I was.

My grandparents had always taught me and my brother that we were in control of our lives. We weren't simply agents that were acted upon. No. We made our own choices.

Well, I would never choose to forgive Noah Armstrong. That would be like saying it was okay that Noah had chosen me that day on the ledge.

And it wasn't.