Page 40 of In Too Deep
Liam’s words punched through his head.Then show it.And trust God to be God.
Yeah.Maybe they needed to talk about that too.
First things first.
He gestured toward the institutional couches near the stone fireplace.Park-service furniture from thirty years ago, upholstery faded and sagging.“I want to talk about Pennsylvania.”
Her jaw tightened.“What’s there to say?I’m taking a new job.”
“Can we sit?”He kept his voice even.Not pushing, not demanding.Not this time.“Just talk?”
She studied him, blue eyes serious.Like she was searching for the catch.The angle.The trap.Then she nodded once, crossing to the worn two-seater, springs squeaking as she sat.She settled her bag at her feet.
The heater rattled in the corner.It fought a losing battle against the cold seeping through every gap in the old building.When he’d moved to Arizona, he’d thought he’d be too warm.Maybe in much of the state, but at more than eight thousand feet, the North Rim didn’t even average eighty on a sunny day.Add in the storms, and days could get downright chilly.
Noah dropped into the chair opposite her.Leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped.His heart hammered against his ribs.“I want to understand.”
I need to understand.
Because if he understood, maybe he’d know how to ask her to stay.How to give her a reason that mattered more than all the reasons to go.
Meg’s fingers found the strap of her bag again.She fidgeted with the buckle.Her gaze dropped to the scarred coffee table between them.“You know more than anyone why.”Her voice caught.“My panic attacks have been getting worse, not better.This place…” She stopped.Swallowed hard.“Ever since Nimue, it’s too much.I feel like I’m just waiting for the next disaster.Pennsylvania is a lab.Data.Controlled environments.No emergencies.”
“Is that what you really want?”It took all Noah’s control to keep his voice neutral.“I always got the impression you love working with people.”
Her laugh came out bitter.Sharp.“Was it when I froze while helping Nimue that I gave you that impression?Or maybe when I went into a full panic attack with Lydia in that cave?”
The sarcasm cut.But the pain in her eyes cut deeper.
Noah didn’t flinch.“It was when you stitched up Nimue’s hand off the books because you knew she needed help and wouldn’t ask for it.”He paused.“It was how determined you were to make sure my back was okay last month, even when I kept telling you I was fine.It was the gentle way you cared for that little girl who split her head open playing ball a few weeks ago.”
Another pause.The heater clanged again.
“I’ve seen you with your patients.I’ve been one of your patients.You get joy from helping people.Do you really think you’ll be happy in a lab?”
“But when I can’t help people—” Her voice cracked.Her gaze dropped to her hands twisting in her lap.“When I can’t help, it doesn’t just steal my joy.It steals my breath, my control, my mind.”
“You mean your panic attacks.”
Soft.Not a question.
An acknowledgment.
“How long have you been dealing with them?”
Meg’s throat worked.Her eyes flicked up, meeting his.Vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache.“The first one was when I was about six.They got really bad for a while, but then with therapy, they got better.Until?—”
She shook her head sharply.Whatever memory had surfaced, she wasn’t sharing it.Not yet.
“It’s always there, lurking in the background.I thought…I hoped it would be different here.But after…” She trailed off.“It’s time.I need something different.”
Different from the job.
Or different from him.
He had a sinking feeling it was both.
His chest tightened.He wanted to fix this.Make it better.But he wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted.What she needed.Not right this minute.
