As he comes back down, he whispers my name like it’s the only thing tethering him in this moment. He crashes to the bed beside me, curling me into his strong arms, and there’s something about the way he says it again that makes it feel more like a vow.
…
The drive from his house to my grandmother’s house goes by way too quickly, and I’m so not ready for it to be over.
Noah’s truck idles at the curb, and as I stare at the place I’ve called home for nearly three months, I get pissed.
Mom’s taken my haven from me.Again.
Same way she did most summers, when she’d cut my trip to Grandma’s and Wanda’s short, always claiming it was for me, yet it ended with me babysitting and cooking dinner.
Resentment and anger build, doing the opposite of preparing me for what I’ll be facing, until I’m considering telling Noah never mind, to please take me away.
Why am I not enough?
“I wished for so long that I had a different relationship with my mom.” I clear my throat, wishing it’d dislodge the lump there and that Noah will somehow make it better. “As a child, I focused so much of my energy on keeping her happy.”
Noah doesn’t say anything; he simply folds my hand in his, pouring reassuring warmth through me as he peers into my very soul.
“I tried so hard.” Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them off with some rapid blinking and measured inhales and exhales, because I’m stronger than I used to be, with more tools. “But I could never live up to her level of perfection.”
“That’s rough,” he says simply, squeezing my hand, and that acknowledgment is enough.
I fiddle with my earrings, doing my best to not let the past affect me in the here and now, while also reminding myself it’s okay to be sad or even cry. “Having that be the bar set for me, wondering why there were so many conditions to loving me, even from my own mother… It just did so much damage, you know?”
Completely rhetorical, because how could he? The man’s a rocky cliffside, steady and unafraid, no matter how many waves come crashing. He’s seen me struggle through a sex seminar, cheered me on as I delivered a comedy act I didn’t write, and showed up to support me at my big, important work event.
He’s perfect.
“Yeah, I get that. My grandparents raised me.” Noah rubs a couple fingers over his jaw, the shift in his tone palpable. “Probably why I held on a little too tight when they split.”
“Oh, Noah,” I say, the familiar ache in my chest on his behalf this time. “I’m so sorry.”
Other than the slight tick in his jaw, he shutters off his emotions. But there’s a tender vulnerability swimming in the blue of his eyes when he says, “It’s no big deal now. But growing up…nothing I did was good enough for my grandfather—and he’s still kind of that way, honestly.
“If it weren’t for my grandma, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with college—I thought all my ideas were too stupid, because that’s what I constantly heard. I was as surprised as anyone that I thrived.”
I study the slope of his nose, and how the light brings out the paler blond of his scruff, my admiration and affection only growing. “And now you’ve built an entire business.”
“Where I’m the boss, and therefore, always right.”
“That explains so much,” I tease, and he playfully jabs his elbow into my side.
“And how I’m right,Miss Skips Ahead Instead of Listens, is by being open to new ideas from my team. We’ve both experienced how stifling constant criticism can be, and I didn’t hire yes-men. I hired incredible people who know what they’re doing.”
“That sounds nice.” The sarcastic nickname he gave me is a little too apropos. I’d dare say it’s how I wound up being a publicist-slash-property manager. “It feels likeIhave to be a whole team of people by myself most of the time, and it gets freaking exhausting.”
“Sounds like you need a new team,” he says, and my thoughts go to that business card in my clutch I managed to forget about till now. “Don’t get me wrong, watching you tonight, how you worked the room and juggled one thing after another…” He taps my nose. “It was impressive.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry I was kind of a jerk about your grandma dating new people. I get now why that must’ve been hard for you.”
“Eh. You were right.” He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s like what she did for me with college. Bringing her here, she’s happy and thriving.”
“I do love that I’ve gotten to be part of her journey. It’s been inspiring to watch her blossom into herself at eighty years old. Like it’s never too late, you know?”
“I’m coming around,” he says, and I laugh, then reluctantly eye the front door with a sigh, painfully aware I should get in there. It probably makes me a bad daughter to even think it, but I’m too exhausted from racking my brain on Lakeview’s behalf to take care of Mom’s problems for her.
“You’ve got this,” he says, and my fraying nerves disagree.
