Chapter 79

Noah

Noah strode into the library, his eyes immediately searching for Hannah. She should have been here by now, but…

“Once upon a time…”

He heard her voice from around a corner and followed it. A moment later, he found her sitting on a small stool in the center of a circle of children. She was holding up a picture book with one hand and a dragon puppet with the other.

The children watched with rapt fascination as Hannah told the story. Noah leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest, listening as she performed all the character voices.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” a soft voice came from behind him, causing him to turn. “With the children, I mean.”

Noah turned to see the librarian, an older woman with round spectacles, sidling up beside him. He gave her a curt nod and returned his gaze to Hannah.

“Yeah. She is.”

Noah wasn’t lying; Hannah truly was a natural. Far more so than he could ever be, and despite all of Hannah’s shortcomings—though the list seemed shorter these days—he couldn’t deny it. Part of him wished she would have his child, not only for an heir to Nightcrest, but also because he thought she might be a good mother.

But that would never happen. She had made it abundantly clear, and besides… they were getting divorced. The date loomed closer, with only a little over two months remaining, and he was no closer to convincing her to stay. She seemed convinced he was a bastard madly in love with his ex-girlfriend, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Dammit,” he thought, turning his head away as she reached the story’s climax, causing the kids to gasp, wondering if the dragon might eat the princess. He knew he needed to stop these thoughts. He and Hannah were getting divorced, and perhaps it was for the best.

When Hannah reached the end of the book, her voice tapering off as she closed the cover with a dramatic flourish, the children erupted into a chorus of disappointed groans and pleas for another story.

“I’m sorry, kids,” Hannah said with an apologetic smile, her voice a little hoarse. “My throat’s getting a bit tired.”

The children’s faces fell, their eyes downcast and lower lips jutting out in identical pouts. Clearly, they were fascinated by Hannah’s storytelling. But then, Hannah’s gaze flickered toward Noah for the first time since he’d arrived, and she gave him an unreadable look before turning back to the children.