Page 68 of Noah's Reckoning

“Uh…sure,” I said, trying to get my brain to focus. I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t going to have Noah’s baby. That was a good thing. Better. For him obviously. “Let me get home and then we’ll talk.”

“Right. I’ll call you tonight.”

I nodded again. “Yep. Because that’s what we do.”

He was looking at me funny, and I needed to hold it together for a few more minutes.

“You okay, Liv?”

“I’m great!” I said with maybe too much enthusiasm, but he was content to see my smile.

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It was hard and rough and delicious…and it told me how happy he was. Happy that I wasn’t pregnant. That there was nothing between us now besides sex.

He pulled away then planted a kiss on my forehead.

“We did it, babe. Survived yet another disaster.”

I tried to nod but he was still holding my face in his hands.

“I’ll let you pack,” he said. “You let me know when you need to head to the airport.”

“I can get one of the guys to drive me. I don’t need you to waste your day. You’ve got some creative designing ahead of you.”

“No worries, just come by my office when you’re ready to go.”

I wasn’t going to be able to get out of him taking me. I knew that. “Okay.”

Finally, he left. But not after I heard another ecstaticyesas he closed the door behind him.

Noah was happy. He was thrilled. Of course he was. He’d escaped what would have been a disaster for him.

I looked at the still-blank pee stick.

No baby.

I wrapped it in nearly a half roll of toilet paper so no one would ever suspect it was there, even though everyone was responsible for dumping their own trash. Then I sat on the bed and tried to process what I was feeling.

Except it was too hard.

Because what I was feeling was simply a hollowness inside I’d never felt before.

I needed to gather up my stuff. I needed to make my bed. I needed to think about what my day would look like tomorrow in Anchorage. I needed to consider if it was a good idea for Noah to come see me, or maybe I should give it—me—some time.

A few weeks maybe.

I needed to do all those things. Instead, I laid back, threw the covers over me and tried not to cry for a baby that never was.

* * *

Hope’s Point Airport—aka the runway.

Ark

I stood there too long watching the plane fly away.

She was gone and it was like a kick in the gut. Not just because I wasn’t going to be seeing her anytime soon, but because, somehow, I knew I’d fucked up this morning. We weren’t pregnant. She should have been as thrilled as I was. We should have been doing theI’m-not-pregnantdance together. Instead, she was quiet, withdrawn. So inside her head I didn’t have a clue what she was thinking.

And when I asked her about going to see her again, her response set my teeth on edge.