Cross stood there for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as if trying to read the pages of a book that had been closed for too long. I wanted to turn away, to walk out of the house and leave him in his regrets, but my feet felt rooted to the floor, like the memories of this place had an invisible hold on me.
“Nora,” he said again, his voice softer this time, almost pleading. “I didn’t think you’d come back here, not after everything.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak. “I didn’t come for you, Cross. I came for the house.”
His face darkened, and the tension between us thickened, suffocating the air. He set the glass down with a slight tremor in his hand, as if the weight of the conversation was already too much for him to carry.
“Why do you want to sell it?” His words came out s
