Chapter 30 Divided Heart
Nora didn’t know what to say to everything. Part of her wanted to hold onto the anger, to keep Sussie at arm’s length. But another part, the part that had lost so much over the past five years, wanted to grab onto this connection. This family. This piece of her old life that was being offered back to her.
“I don’t know if I can just forgive and forget,” Nora said honestly. “There’s a lot of hurt between us.”
“I know. I’m not asking you to forget. I’m just asking for a chance to be in your life again. To be the sister I should have been all along.”
They talked until the café staff started giving them pointed looks, until the afternoon light began to fade toward evening. When they finally stood to leave, Sussie pulled Nora into a hug.
Nora stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed into it. It had been so long since she’d hugged her sister. So long since she’d had any family at all.
“Can I have your number?” Sussie asked when they pulled apart. “I’d like to stay in touch. If that’s okay with you.”
Nora hesitated for only a moment before reciting her new number. Sussie entered it into her phone, then sent Nora a quick text so Nora would have her number too.
Ben was waiting outside the café, leaning against a lamppost. He straightened when he saw them emerge together.
“How did it go?” he asked cautiously.
“Good,” Sussie said, glancing at Nora. “Better than I expected.”
“I’m glad.” Ben looked at Nora. “Can I walk you somewhere? Or call you a cab?”
“I can get myself home,” Nora said, but there was less hostility in her voice than before.
“At least let me have your number. So we can coordinate about the kids. So I can let you know when they’re ready to see you.”
Nora knew she should say no. Knew that giving Ben her number was opening a door she might not be able to close again. But the mention of her children overrode her caution.
She gave him the number. Watched as he carefully entered it into his phone, his fingers fumbling slightly with nervousness.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For talking to us today. For giving us a chance. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Nora didn’t respond. She just nodded once, then turned and walked toward the subway station, feeling both their eyes on her back.
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Over the next few days, Ben started calling.
The first call came that evening, just a few hours after Nora had returned home. She stared at the unknown number on her screen, knowing instinctively who it was. She let it go to voicemail.
The voicemail was short, sweet. Ben’s voice saying he just wanted to make sure she’d gotten home safely. That he hoped she was doing okay. That he looked forward to talking to her again soon.
Nora deleted it. Told herself she wouldn’t respond.
But the next day, he called again. And the day after that. Each time leaving a brief message. Never pushy. Never demanding. Just checking in. Asking how she was. Mentioning small things about the kids that he thought she’d want to know.
On the fourth day, Nora answered.
“Hello?”
“Nora.” Ben’s voice was filled with relief. “I was starting to think you were screening my calls.”
“I was.”
“I appreciate the honesty.” There was a smile in his voice. “How are you? Really?”
And somehow, that simple question opened a floodgate. Nora found herself talking to Ben about her job at the bank. About Toronto. About how strange it was to be living a normal life after everything she’d been through.
She didn’t mention Noah. Didn’t mention Shadowveil or the Mafia King or anything about where she’d really been for the past five years. But she talked about the surface things. The safe things.
The conversation lasted an hour. When they finally hung up, Nora felt unsettled. Confused. Like she’d just crossed a line she hadn’t meant to cross.
But when Ben called the next day, she answered again.
And the day after that.
The conversations became routine. Ben would call in the evenings, usually around the time Nora was finishing dinner. They’d talk for anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours. About everything and nothing. About memories from their marriage. About the kids. About life. Noah on the corner noticed these calls but decided to stay mute.
And through it all, Ben gently, persistently, asked if they could try again.
“I know it’s crazy,” he said one evening. “I know you probably have a whole new life now. But Nora, I never stopped loving you. Even when I married Caroline, even when I tried to move on, part of me was always waiting for you to come back.”
“Ben, I don’t know—”
“I’m not asking for an answer right now. I’m just asking you to think about it. We were good together once. We had something real. And we have children together. Kids who need both their parents.”
Nora felt her resolve weakening. Because he was right. They had been good together. She had loved him deeply. And the thought of being a family again, of having her children back, of somehow reclaiming the life that had been stolen from her, it was tempting. So tempting.
“Just think about it,” Ben said softly. “That’s all I’m asking.”
And Nora found herself thinking about it. More than she should. More than was wise.
She started comparing Ben to Noah in her mind. Ben was familiar, comfortable. He was the father of her children. He represented the life she’d lost, the possibility of getting back something she’d thought was gone forever.
Noah was new. He represented survival and escape and trauma. Their relationship had been forged in hell, and sometimes Nora wondered if it could survive in the normal world. If what they had was real love or just trauma bonding.
She felt guilty for even thinking these thoughts. Noah had risked everything to escape with her. Had held her when she broke down. Had built a life with her here in Toronto. He loved her genuinely, completely, without ulterior motives.
But Ben had loved her first before everything fell apart.
Nora was divided between two versions of herself. The woman she’d been before Shadowveil, who’d been married to Ben and building a family. And the woman she’d become after, who’d survived hell with Noah and started over.
She didn’t know which woman she was supposed to be anymore.