He nods. “I deserve that.”
A beat of silence.
“I canceled the contract for Nan’s.”
I cross my arms, unsure I want the apology that I know is coming. Unsure I can handle it.
“I was sorry to hear about her passing. I wanted to come to the funeral—to be there for you. But I wasn’t sure you would want me there and coming to explain all that while you were grieving felt like the wrong choice.”
I nod, confirming his assumptions.
“Are you doing okay?”
His question hits me square in the chest—simple, direct; it’s Noah encapsulated. Not sure he deserves the answer, I press again.
“Why are you here?”
“I want to apologize.”
“So you didn’t go through with buying the diner. I suppose you’ve come to make some earth shattering confession. To promise me the future you stole.”
My accusations burn across my tongue, and from the look on his face, land with the precision I was hoping for. “This isn’t a movie, Noah. I told you before we even tried this, I’m not that girl. I’m not the one who waits by the phone for the hero to call and confess his love. I don’t need you.”
Noah steps towards me, but doesn’t reach out—just closes the distance.
“I’m not going to tell you that I love you, Lottie, because I’m not going to use the way I feel about you as a weapon. I want to mean it when I say it, and want it to be something more than a desperate attempt at getting you back.”
Well, there’s something. I pull my arms tighter and bite the inside of my cheek as he continues.
“But I will tell you this. I love being with you. I love the way you smell; like coconuts and rain and how it makes being with you like going on an adventure and coming home all at once. I love how you weigh every option and the way your cheek quirks in when you do it. I love the way you instinctively challenge things—how you refuse to accept anything less than security for yourself, and how you dream of a world where everyone has exactly that. I love your determination, and how you won’t let anything stand in your way. I love that you challenged me, demanded that I choose. Hell, I even love that you walked away when I didn’t immediately choose you. It was brave, and strong, and so completelyyou.”
My chest cinches again, but not because of grief or pain; because of the way Noah is detailing me, really seeing me in the way I’ve always craved. The way he always has.
“I hate myself, Lottie. I hate myself for choosing what I thought was the best for Flourish, when I knew it meant crushing you. I hate that despite every intention not to, I was turning into my father. I hate the way I chose anything other than you when it really mattered. And worse, how it meant not being there for you when you needed me. I hate the way you’re the best I’m ever going to have and that it might be too late.”
As his proclamation settles, the words from Nan’s letter, the one she wrote before I ever met Noah, come floating back.Not everyone sets out to hurt you, and holding their own flaws against them hasn’t done anything but continue to let that hurt fester.Noah’s biggest flaw, as well as his sweetest attribute, is his drive for perfection; his drive for finding the best. Could I be the person who penalizes him for it?
“I don’t hate you,” I say. “I probably should. But I don’t.”
Noah offers a smile and I uncross my arms, dropping them to my sides.
“But you fucked up. Really fucked up.”
He reaches for me now, catching my hand. “I know. I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to express how sorry.”
The apology hits me like his asking if I’m okay, square in the chest and in the way that proves he means it. His gray eyes track over my face, his other hand reaching for my cheek. When his palm makes contact, I instinctively lean into it.
“Can you forgive me?”
“I want to.”
With his eyes still glued to mine, he leans in and closes the distance, our lips meeting. It’s hesitant at first, like he’s giving me a chance to retract. But in the next second, when I don’t, it intensifies and he’s pressing me up against the door frame. My instinct is to inflict pain, to nip and draw blood—proving I can hurt him too. I know he’d take it, I know I could lean into the vindictive edge and really make him suffer. But as the old pain surges up, Noah sweeps it away. Stealing my breath and the desire to inflict hurt, he kisses me until it’s gone. All that’s left between us now is the heartbreaking promise of what could be, sweeter now because of what’s been.
Breaking to catch my breath, I put my palms on his chest. He leans his forehead on mine, his eyes closed, a sweet smile curving his lip.
“You really took a chance coming here,” I say, waving my hand towards Nan’s kitchen.
“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Kara. I was ready to be miserable forever if it meant not hurting you again.”
