Jessa

The door clicked shut behind Noah, and the silence that followed was almost too heavy to breathe in. I stood there for a few seconds, still staring at the space he’d just been standing in. My pulse was hammering against my ribs like it hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that he was gone.

He’d shown up on my porch—my porch—looking like he hadn’t slept in days, saying he wanted to talk. Saying he was sorry. And for a moment, for a stupid, fleeting second, I almost believed ...