Page 130 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

He shook his head. “Don’t do that—feed me a line when I can look into your eyes and see that it’s bullshit.”

She exhaled a long, shaky breath, not wanting to talk about it—wanting to be anywhere else but here. “We’re going to be late.”

“So we’ll apologize when we get there.”

“Nate—”

He scrubbed at his jaw. “Why do I have to dig? Why can’t you just let me in?”

She swallowed again.

“Why, Callie?”

“Because then it has to matter,” she choked out. “I have to admit that this matters so much more than I want it to.”

Sighing, he released her from her seat belt and wrapped her up in a hug.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and clutched at his jacket, fighting to keep it together. “I don’t want it to.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sliding his hand down her back, holding her close.

“I keep thinking about the woman who bought her daughter ice cream and kissed her cheek on a pretty summer day. For most of my life, I’ve tried to figure out what I did wrong to make her go away, but then I saw the video.” She drew back, swiping at her cheeks, impatient with her tears. “She looked like she loved me—that she didn’t simply leave because she didn’t want to stay, but how can I look at this place and believe anything different? She walked me in there—into that dump—turned around and left. How am I not supposed to hate her for that?”

He cradled her face, stroking away another tear with his thumb. “We have no idea what happened. No idea at all.”

She held on to his wrists, staring into his sympathetic eyes. “Right now, that doesn’t make it better. This diner is the last place I saw her and I don’t even remember. I don’t know if she said goodbye.”

“That’s why we need to see what Ms. Battleman has to say—get her account of that night.”

“I know.” She sniffled. “I just—I thought I was more prepared. I didn’t realize that this was going to hit me so hard.”

“How could it not?” He kissed her. “But no matter how this unfolds, you’re going to get through it. You’re going to be okay. And I’m right here with you.”

His unwavering support had her tearing up all over again. “You’re truly the best part of my life. I don’t think I say that enough—or maybe I never have, but it’s true.”

“Right back at ya.” He pressed his lips to hers, letting them linger before he eased back. “Should we go see Ms. Battleman?”

“Yes.” She buckled up as Nate fiddled with the GPS, calling up the address he’d programed into the small computer before they’d left for the eight o’clock ferry this morning.

“Looks like we just need to head a few blocks north.” He turned over the ignition and reversed. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

She nodded, vowing to herself that there would be no more tears today. Crying changed nothing—only made this even harder on herself and Nate. “I promise I’m good.”

“All right, then.” Nate accelerated out of the lot, following the new set of directions.

Callie glanced around, taking in their surroundings as they moved through the residential section of town, where older homes had been converted into three- and four-family apartment buildings. On occasion, she spotted expletives written on the siding with green or black spray paint and trash littering yards or spilling over curbsides.

“Kinda reminds me of Mattapan,” Nate commented as he turned down another street.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Mattapan was my beat. When I was a Boston Boy in Blue, putting in my time before the move to Virginia.”

It was hard thinking of Nate as anything but the sheriff of Carter Island. “Oh.”

The GPS announced their arrival as they approached a small brown house that had seen better days. Nate slowed and pulled into the driveway, looking at Callie—scrutinizing her face—as he shut off the engine. “If at any point this gets to be too much, I want you to say the word.”

“It won’t.” She reached for his hand, giving a squeeze as she smiled, needing for him to see that she was strong enough to handle whatever Ms. Battleman was going to tell them. “The diner took me by surprise, but I’m ready for this.”