I must look insane.
I reach her building, lungs burning, hoodie drenched.
I pound on her door, harder than I probably should, heart thudding like a drumbeat I can’t control. I’m shaking—not from the cold, but from everything in me unraveling.
The door opens.
And there she is.
Nora.
She’s barefoot, wrapped in a soft gray sweater, her eyes wide and wary and already glassy. The sight of her hits me like a punch to the ribs.
“Hi,” I croak.
She doesn’t say anything—just stares. Her mouth is a little open, like she doesn’t know if she wants to scream or cry.
“I listened to it,” I say, voice low and rough. “The voice memo. Vivienne sent it.”
Still nothing. Her arms are crossed, her whole body curled inward like she’s bracing for impact.
“I know what Jake did,” I push on. “I know the posts were fake. That he made it all up. I know you never… I know you’d never do that to me.”
Her chin trembles. She looks away.
“I believed him,” I whisper. “I looked you in the eyes and I believedhim.And I can’t—I don’t even have a word for what that makes me.”
My throat tightens, and I feel the first tear break loose, trailing hot over my cold skin.
“I fucked everything up,” I rasp. “I threw away the only thing in my life that ever felt real. You.”
Her hand rises to her mouth, and I see her shoulders shake. She’s crying too—quietly, but fully.
“I love you,” I say, and my voice cracks in half. “God, Nora. I love you so much. I was scared. Scared of how much I needed you. Scared you’d leave like he did. Like everyone does.”
A sob bursts from her, and she turns away—just for a second—like she doesn’t want me to see.
I step inside, slowly, dripping all over her floor, not caring.
“I want to be a family with you,” I say. “I want everything. Diaper changes and baby books and you bossing me around about proper shelving. I want all of it. With you.”
She turns back to me, eyes rimmed red, cheeks wet.
“Why didn’t you trust me?” she asks, and her voice is barely there. “Why was it so easy to believe I’d hurt you?”
“Because I didn’t believe I deserved anything else,” I whisper. “Because I didn’t think I was worth you.”
She shakes her head, tears streaming. “You were. Youare.”
We just stand there for a moment—crying, breathing,breakingin each other’s presence.
And then she steps toward me.
Another sob catches in her throat as she pulls me into her arms—and I crumble. Full body shaking, gasping, crying like I haven’t in years. She holds me through it, and I hold her back, and we just stand there, soaking wet and clinging to each other like the storm outside has nothing on the one we just weathered.
“I love you,” I whisper again, and she nods against my shoulder, her fingers digging into my back.
“I love you too,” she says.
