He’s calm and quiet, with his gaze leveled on mine.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly, the cool morning air carrying my voice as I lift my hand in a half-wave.
Noah stares back at me, unmoving. “Hey,” he responds, his voice even.
The silence stretches between us and I find the guilt tangling with the anticipation in my stomach. Noah Alder has been my friend for longer than anyone else. We met in preschool on the playground when we were both four years old.
He fell and scraped his knee and I helped him up. With tears in his eyes, he pushed me away and told me he didn’t need any help. But then he let me walk him to the teacher to get a bandaid.
Then he shared his snack with me, and the rest was history.
Noah has always been protective of everyone who was close to him and in a way, I made it hard for him. He has always stood by me through everything but I was the one who broke his trust when I got involved with Willow behind his back.
At the end of the day, he would always be more protective of his family than anyone else, and I can never fault him for that.
“You wanna come inside or you wanna walk?” he finally asks.
“Walk,” I say without a second thought or hesitation. I think we both need the space to talk freely, and four walls and a table seems more confrontational than I want this to be.
I want to be honest with him in a way that I haven’t been in weeks.
Noah nods his head once before he begins to walk down the steps. He comes closer, moving his arm in a sweeping motion toward the path that leads to the maple fields.
We fall in step with one another, walking side by side. The silence is suffocating, the tension heavy as the soles of our shoes crunch the dry, hardened dirt beneath. My heart thuds rapidly against my ribs.
Noah is the first to break through the quiet.
“I’m glad you came by,” he says quietly, his voice steady and low. “I figured you would at some point. This might be the longest we’ve gone without talking.”
A breath escapes me in a rush. “I should have come sooner.”
“Maybe,” he says simply as he lifts his shoulder. “You’re here now though.”
We walk a little farther, stepping onto the gravel instead of the dirt. “How are they? Did you get the disease under control?” I ask as we reach the first row of maple trees.
Noah nods his head. “We were able to treat it easily.” He pauses, not giving me anything more. “How’s the rink?”
“It’s good,” I say after a moment as we walk past the first tree. “A lot of work, but Harrison and I are managing.”
“That’s good,” he nods his head, looking down at his feet before up at me again. “How have you been holding up?”
The question cuts through my chest like a swift blade.
“I’ve been…trying,” I admit, shaking my head as I lift my hand to scratch the back of my neck. We both stop and Noah waits for me to continue. “Trying to figure out how the hell I can fix the mess I made.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “It’s not all on you.”
My brows furrow. “I lied to you. I kept what was happening with Willow a secret for far longer than I should have.”
“You did.” He bobs his head, pursing his lips. “But I don’t think you were doing it to hurt anyone.”
“I wasn't,” I say in a rush, staring back at him intently. “I never meant to hurt you… or her.”
“I know.” He lets out a deep exhale. “I’m not going to lie—at first, I wanted to drown you in a drum of maple syrup. I’ve since cooled off and I just keep thinking back to all the things I should have noticed. The way you looked at her when you didn’t realize anyone was watching. The way she smiled whenever you were around.” He pauses, shaking his head. “I finally put those pieces together and I know it goes deeper than you wanted to admit.”
A lump lodges in my throat, my heart immediately constricting. “I was afraid to admit how I felt about her. I was afraid to admit it to myself, to her, and even more to you.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I’m in love with her, Noah.”
His gaze is unwavering as he nods, slow and measured. “I know you are.”
