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“So am I.”
Her gaze finds mine as silence stretches between us. In the darkness of the library, it feels intimate. More intimate than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Is that why you’re here? To get away?”
I stare at the howling storm outside before answering. “The memorials and vigils remind me of everything I lost. October has always been difficult.” As I turn my head to look at Rowan, though, my words feel empty. The sting of my emotions has lessened, and my loss doesn’t seem so painful anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she says again.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s not a secret.” I shrug. My gaze drifts back to watch the storm, but every other sense is tuned into Rowan’s frequency. She shifts on the couch, letting out a long sigh. When I swing my gaze to meet hers, though, I see no pity in her eyes. Empathy, yes. Understanding.
But no pity.
It’s…refreshing. A lump forms in my throat and I glance away. Pushing myself up to my feet, I glance down at Rowan, who’s still curled on the couch. “You should go to your room. It gets cold in here without a fire burning.”
Then I walk away, feeling Rowan’s wide-eyed stare on my back.
