I Could Read Minds But Never His Sincere Love Chapter 07

I Could Read Minds But Never His Sincere Love Chapter 07

Hazel’s name shadowed Clara’s face too.

Miles pressed his lips into a thin line. She’d ripped the mask off the thing he’d spent his life running from, and he had nothing to say for a long time.

“So. Going forward, we’re a therapist and a client. That’s all we are.”

“When you realize you’re going the wrong way, you turn back. You don’t keep walking.”

He came out of the center with his eyes completely hollow.

He walked down a street he knew by heart. Every corner held a memory of them.

She used to drag him up and down this block, pointing at everything. He never gave her more than a blank face, and she’d smile anyway, beaming brightly.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that smile.

He opened his phone without knowing why. The thread with Hazel still left off on his own message.

She’d never left him hanging this long.

Normally Hazel didn’t send a text. She sent a dozen.

The weather that morning, the terrible lunch, the kitten she found on her way home. He never answered and it never slowed her down.

He used to think she was so much noise. He muted her and swiped

—

her thread away every time it surfaced.

Now he’d gotten what he wanted. He had to scroll all the way down to find that little cat profile picture.

He went through his camera roll and found the matching half of the cat photo buried deep in it. He set it as his own.

Hazel had begged him for matching profile pictures for years. He’d called it childish, called it embarrassing, and refused to do it.

Looking at it now, it was cute.

An unnamed ache clawed at his chest. He walked into a bar and drank until he couldn’t stand.

Thoughts of Hazel came back to him. She’d never have let him get this far down a bottle.

Anytime she caught him sinking, she’d crouch down, put a hand over his glass, and talk him down in that soft careful voice.

So she wasn’t always noise.

And it worked. He’d keep his face set like stone while everything knotted up inside him quietly came loose.

A light rain started to fall. A couple was fighting on the sidewalk, and as he passed he heard the guy calming her down, soft and patient.

All those years with Hazel, and he’d never once had to do that for her.

The second a fight got too real, he shut the door.

Hazel never gave up. She’d come at it from every angle, over and over,

—

prodding, steering, trying to draw him out.

He’d push her until she broke, and she’d put herself back together and turn around to comfort him.

She wasn’t actually that hot-tempered. He’d just convinced himself she was.

She was so vibrant, her energy was infectious. Even thinking about her did it.

Even her outbursts. She’d get worked up like a kid and it was cute.

The night wind whipped rain against his face and left it wet. He touched it and told himself it wasn’t tears.

He was cold. If Hazel were here she’d have rubbed her hands warm and put them against his cheeks.

So where was Hazel?

Early the next morning, his feet took him to the door of Hazel’s counseling center.

The sign above it said Prosperity Diner.

“Morning! Table for one?”

A server came out with a menu and a smile. Miles grabbed his arm, and his voice stumbled.

“This is a counseling center. Isn’t it?”

“Oh, that therapist sold the place a while back. We’ve been open over a month. You don’t get down this way much, huh?”

—

A sharp pang pierced Miles’s chest.

A month. That was exactly how long he’d been giving her the silent treatment.

He’d walked past this place a dozen times. He’d seen the crews working.

He just hadn’t been willing to spend a single thought on her.

A cold sense of dread crept up his throat. He got home fast, and his mother was on the couch with the TV on, idly watching it.

He forced his breathing even and kept his voice perfectly casual.

“Mom. How long did Hazel say she was leaving town for?”