It was a terrible story we heard from that woman, Olivia, but I didn’t know he was taking it so hard. “I didn’t realize you weren’t okay after ...” I walked away.
“I didn’t either, to be honest. Olivia’s story sat with me, and I brewed. I saw this shit after I got home from my deployments, but it’s another thing to see the aftermath in a normal everyday-life setting. I walked away from the Marines, but she can’t.”
“I can’t imagine what it must feel like,” I tell him.
“Anyway, it was inappropriate for me to cross a line with you. Part of me is just a man who sees an attractive woman I want to get to know. The other part of me realizes I could have a lawsuit sitting on my desk by the end of the day for just saying this to you.”
“I’m not going to sue you, Noah. We can’t control every part of life, and to be fair, I broke down and said, ‘I like you’ first.”
Noah is a different kind of man. He’s sincere and full of a lot of life. He squeezes his fingers over the bridge of his nose and inhales again. “I’m having a hard time, Ashley. I’ve been having a hard time for a few years now, and it’s not getting any easier. I’m not close with too many people because of this, and I feel like an ass for dragging you in as I have. My decisions can be erratic, which is why I’ve tried to seclude myself from people for the last six months. I didn’t think anyone would break through this wall, but--” he laughs as if he’s embarrassed. “You unexpectedly broke through the wall, and I don’t know how to handle it.”
Noah and I hardly know each other, which makes me wonder if he’s channeling this pain silently alone. “Do you ever talk to anyone about your feelings and the past?” I realize I’m focusing on the other part of this conversation, but it seems to be the root of it all.
“Nah, I figured the pain and thoughts would settle on their own after a while,” he says. Noah releases his fingers from his nose and glances out the window. There aren’t any tears, but there is a glossy look in his eyes.
I stand from my chair and do the only thing I can think to do. He needs a hug. He said that’s what he needs when he’s staring into a black hole. “You need a hug,” I tell him. I wait for him to stand from his chair, but he doesn’t. I’m not giving up on him though either, so I lean down to wrap my arms around his neck, but his knee hits the side of my mine by mistake, and I fall into his lap. I should have done the right thing and jumped up, moved, or played it off as if I tripped, which I did, but I don’t move. I know this is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. “You’re a hero to the world, Noah. Even heroes feel pain.”
“Ashley,” he says, sounding like he’s in pain.
“Just let it out,” I tell him.
“I’m in a lot of pain right now,” he says.
“I know. Just breathe,” I tell him. I don’t really know how to talk someone off the ledge from pain, but I’m saying what comes to mind first.
“I can’t just breathe, Ashley.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, seriously ... what is in your back pocket?” Noah asks, gritting his teeth.
It takes less than a second for my thoughts to conjugate, and my mouth falls ajar. “Oh shit.” I forgot I had a tablecloth scraper in my back pocket. “Oh my God!” I jump up from his lap.
The damn thing ripped through my pocket and his pant leg, leaving him with a superficial slice across his thigh.
I pull the scraper out of my back pocket and hold it up. Noah chuckles and places his hand over his face. “Well, this is going to be hard to explain to the rest of the staff.” The split in his pants can’t be concealed.
“I’m so sorry, Noah,” I exclaim. My face is hot and probably beet red. “Let me get you a bandage. Where are they?”
Noah opens his bottom drawer and pulls out a small tin full of first-aid materials.
The blood is starting to pour out a little more than it was a second ago and concern washes through me. “I think you’re cut pretty badly,” I tell him. His pants are white and soaking up the blood like a wet cloth.
I’ll be okay. “I just have to clean it up.”
“It’s totally inappropriate for me to offer to help you, but can I help you?”
Noah glances up to the ceiling and blows a lungful of air out of his lungs. “You just want to see me in my briefs, is that it?”
“No, I mean, yes, I just want to help you.”
“You’re going to torture me for the next six months, aren’t you, Ashley?”
The thought might have gone through my head, but not like this.
“I truly forgot I had the scraper in my back pocket. Why are those things so sharp?”
“They’re meant to scrape, but not puncture,” he tells me.
