Page 61 of The Perfect Secret

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Page 61 of The Perfect Secret

“I don’t know. I told you he acted weird the last couple of times we were together.”

“Maybe there’s something going on he can’t talk about right now.”

“Can’t or won’t? I don’t understand why he won’t share his feelings with me, and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t.”

“You deserve better.”

Hannah shook her head. “Now you sound like Dan.”

“I don’t mean it like that.” She reached for Hannah’s hand. “You shouldn’t be with someone who won’t talk to you.”

“No, I shouldn’t. I just wish I knew what went wrong. He hasn’t spoken to me since Monday. Yesterday doesn’t count. Part of me wants to completely forget about him. The other part…” She watched the light glint off the stainless-steel spoon handle. “The other part wants to force him to explain himself. And I have no idea what to do.”

“Did you call him?”

She sighed. “I did.”

“He didn’t answer?”

“Nope.”

“Did you leave a message?”

Hannah averted her gaze. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to sound like I was begging. He knows I’m angry and hurt. Leaving a message will make me sound like some petulant child. He already has a teenager; he doesn’t need to date one—not that Tess is petulant, because she’s great.” She sighed and sipped her coffee. It was tasteless. Or maybe it was her.

Aviva tipped her head. Hannah was reminded of a sprite. She kept her mouth shut—her friend hated being called that. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. It was the first time she’d been in the mood to smile in days.

“I see your point, but you should have left a message. The only way you two will work is if you communicate.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know if there’s anythingtowork. He won’t communicate.”

“Neither will you. You should call him again.”

“Ugh, I hate this. I really do.”

Aviva gave Hannah a hug. The two of them returned to their offices, where Hannah contacted Barbara to confirm her follow-up interview. Although excited about the prospect of a new job, thoughts of Dan dampened her feelings. She hoped Aviva was right, but she had a sinking feeling in her stomach there was something else going on.

It had been 72 hours since Dan had talked to Hannah. 4,320 minutes. 259,200 seconds. Granted, their latest bout of “talking” had been him breaking up with her. But his limbic system didn’t care. Even now, despite the shitty way he’d treated her, when he thought about her, his heartbeat increased and his palms sweated.

After tossing and turning all night, he’d gotten up early on a Saturday morning to make coffee.

The ring of his phone made him jump. He looked around to make sure Tess didn’t see him.Wimp.

He looked at the cellphone screen. Hannah. Guess he wasn’t the only one not sleeping. A shot of guilt ran through him for causing her lack of sleep. Then reality returned—maybe he wasn’t causing her any problems. Maybe she just wanted to yell at him. He should let it go to voicemail. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket.Coward.

No, he wasn’t a coward. He was trying to end the addiction before it became a problem he couldn’t overcome.

The phone continued to play Radiohead’s 2+2=5 ringtone. His hand started to shake. Would it be bad to talk to her? It was early on a Saturday morning. Maybe she needed something. Swearing under his breath, he yanked the phone out of his pocket. The movement made him twist wrong and he shouted as blinding pain shot up and down his leg. His phone clattered to the floor. He grabbed blindly for the countertop as he fell.

Chapter Eighteen

Insistent knocking on her bedroom door pulled Hannah out of bed Saturday morning, much earlier than she’d intended on waking. Actually, she’d been up for a while. She’d called Dan, but as usual, he hadn’t answered. Still, she’d been hoping to relax a little longer…

“Hannahla, are you up? Hannah?”




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