I say nothing, setting my spoon on the cafeteria table before running my fingers through my hair, which I didn’t bother washing today. Come to think of it, I’m not really sure when I last washed it.

“Just come out with me,” Parker urges. “We can forget about men for a night.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I grumble. “Your relationship is going just fine.”

“And I will be happy to make up several shortcomings to bitch about over cosmos.”

My lip twitches despite it all. “Fine. Whatever. We’ll go for drinks.”

“Perfect,” Parker says happily. He checks his phone. “I have to go back. I’ll meet you when you get off?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He leaves me sitting at the table alone, and my soup remains woefully untouched, my appetite nonexistent. Is this what it feels like to be heartbroken? I’ve successfully avoided the feeling romantic-wise for almost the entirety of my adult life, and now that I’m experiencing it firsthand, I would be happy to give it back.

I’ve gone over that day at the café again and again in my mind, trying to pick it apart and find sense in the way that Noah had been so eager to pursue something more with me days before ending things entirely. By all accounts it makes absolutely no sense, but the aloof expression on his face as he’d told me it was over, that it wasn’t the right time for him and me . . . it left little room for doubt.

And what’s more confusing is how deep it stings, how much the hurt of it lingers like a wound that won’t heal. I had been so confident that I could keep things casual, that I could explore his body while keeping a tight hold on my heart—so why does it hurt so much?

Deep down, I know the answer. Of course I do. I think I’ve known it since the first time he touched me, but I’ve been so desperate to keep him at arm’s length that I’d somehow managed to push Noah directly into my blind spot. I held him where I couldn’t see the way he was carving a place for himself inside my heart.

And now I’m experiencing the fallout, all alone.

I’m not letting you get away from me, Mackenzie.

I have to shut my eyes tight to hold back tears, refusing to let anyone at work see me give in to that weakness. I grab my bowl and my spoon and the rest of my trash and carry it to the can to throw it away, a bitter emotion I’m becoming accustomed to trickling into my chest as Noah’s empty words play over and over in my head.

I’m not letting you get away from me, Mackenzie.

I laugh under my breath as I head for the elevators. Turns out . . . he pushed me away himself.

It’s cold outside the entrance of the hospital where I’m waiting for Parker after my shift, the evening lights turning on and the sky darkening above as the temperature drops. I rub my hands together and breathe on them as I lean against the wall outside the door, eyeing the large bushes a few yards away.

It feels a lot like that first morning I met Noah here after we entered our arrangement, and there is a small, pathetic part of me that imagines that he might walk out of the doors at any moment. Which I know is out of the question; I haven’t seen him since that day at the café. He made sure of that when he put in his resignation the very next day.

Even knowing that, I startle as the automatic doors creak open beside me, jumping a little when someone steps out who is neither Noah nor Parker, but just as familiar.

“Mack?”

I haven’t really spent any time with Liam since the day that Noah kissed me in the hallway; things felt awkward after Priya informed me that Liam might have feelings for me. I still don’t know if there’s any truth to that, and with everything that’s happened since . . . I haven’t had the emotional capacity to even consider dealing with the possibility.

“Hey,” I greet. “Did you just get off?”

He nods. “Just now. You?”

“Little while ago. I’m waiting for Parker.”

“Oh.” He looks at his feet, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. “I haven’t seen you lately.”

“Oh, yeah, well . . .” I avert my eyes. “I’ve been busy.”

“I also heard Dr. Taylor put in his resignation.”

This makes me wince, and I will my expression to stay neutral. “Right. He got a great offer over in Albuquerque. Couldn’t afford to pass it up.”

“And are you . . . moving with him?”

I force a smile, waving him off. “No, no. Nothing like that. At least not right now. We’re going to do the whole long-distance thing until we work out the details.”

Look at me. Still lying, even now. Still keeping up with the ruse for Noah’s benefit. Even when there’s no reason to anymore.

“Oh. I thought . . .” Liam reaches to rub at the back of his neck. “You’ve just seemed really down lately. I thought something might have happened.”

I suck in a breath. “Have I?”

“I notice these things,” he says quietly.

His eyes meet mine, and there’s a melancholy there that is unlike him. His normally warm brown eyes are duller, his mouth that is so quick to smile is etched into a deep frown. “Right,” I say, unsure of what else I can. “Well . . . things have been complicated.”

Complicated.

I could almost laugh out loud at the irony of it.

“Is it about Noah?”

I clench my jaw, turning to look ahead so that I don’t have to face him. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m sorry, Mackenzie. I don’t want to be an asshole . . . but something has been weird about the whole thing. I just . . . I can’t picture it. And now he’s leaving you here? How could someone abandon their mate like that?”

Again there is that manic urge to laugh, because it had been incredibly easy for Noah to up and leave me, considering I was never his mate to begin with.

“He isn’t . . .” My voice sounds too thick. “He isn’t exactly . . .”

“Mack,” Liam says gently, reaching out a hand to touch my shoulder. “I know I should have said something sooner, but I . . . I care about you. More than just as a coworker. And I—” He makes a frustrated sound. “I would never make you look like you do now. Fucking miserable.”

I look at him then, really look at him, and in another life, Liam would be the perfect partner. He’s kind and considerate and perfectly wonderful—but the awful truth of why I can’t be with him in the way that he wants is made glaringly obvious by the first thought that pops into my head, even if it makes no sense.

He’s not Noah.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, looking down at my feet. “I can’t.”

It’s not exactly a real answer, but I think he discerns my meaning all the same, if the way he draws back his hand is any indication. I hear him breathe deep, just to let it out, and when I peek over at him I catch him nodding.

“Right,” he says softly. “Right. Of course. Sorry, I . . . I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I appreciate it, I—” I huff. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I’m sorry. Listen, Liam, you are . . . amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you, but I—”

“Love Noah,” he finishes, sounding wistful. “I get it. You can’t fight love.”

I stare back at him dazedly, trying to process this.

Love?

As much as I’ve been wallowing, as much as the loss of Noah has wounded me—I haven’t once considered that it could be so terrible because I love him. That’s impossible . . . isn’t it? There hasn’t been enough time for love. It’s just . . . impossible.

“I . . .”

Liam shakes his head. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I think I needed to tell you. Just so I can say I did all I could.”

“I don’t want to lose your friendship,” I blurt out, still reeling from what he said and trying to make sense of it in my brain. “You’re still important to me.”