Novalee lay back in bed, thinking about his words. About the risk he was taking just by staying. Just by talking to her.
About the way her hand had fit in his.
Guilt crashed over her like a wave.
She was married. To James. The man who'd brought her ice cream for nine days. Who'd kept a scorecard for three years. Who was out there somewhere, safe, waiting for her.
And here she was, holding another man's hand. Looking forward to Atlas's visits. Feeling something when he touched her that she shouldn't feel.
*What am I becoming?*
She looked down at her hands. Bruised. Scarred. The same hands that had held James on their wedding day. The same hands that now reached for Atlas like he was a lifeline.
*Would James even want me back? After everything Dante's done to me? After what I'm becomi
