The door opened and there he was.
Jake stood on the porch, the night breeze ruffling his hair, his expression unreadable. His phone was still in his hand — and on the screen, faintly visible in the reflection of the porch light, was the same image that had wrecked her peace moments ago.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them said everything.
Bella's fingers still trembled as she clutched the doorframe. The cool night air drifted into the room, brushing over her skin, but the real chill was inside her, crawling beneath her ribs, wrapping tightly around her chest.
Jake stood there, his face shadowed by the porch light. His expression wasn't angry, not yet, but it wasn't calm either. His gray eyes searched hers, quietly intense, quietly pained.
He'd been praying she wouldn't see the news so he could just handle it and pretend like nothing happened but seeing her face and the dread in her eyes, he knew it was already too late and there was nothing he could do.
