D-
I miss you so God damn much. Please come today, we can talk.
-N
He did care. She was a swooning bubble of bliss. But there were still a lot of unknowns and bridges to cross, including telling him about the job.
Dahlia walked up onto the curb, feeling her insides toss and tumble. She took a swig of Shelter Island air, and blew out her worst fears. What would she say to him? “Noah, I was wrong,” and pray for his forgiveness? The steps going up to the Hive suddenly seemed too steep. Dahlia’s hand gripped the wrought iron banister, hoping it would hold her anxious body up.
Just as she hit the top stair, she glanced up and saw Gretchen through the large window, waving eagerly. Now, let’s hope her brother was that happy to see her. The door was slightly ajar, but her push still felt labored. A medley of excitement and nerves ensued. A waft of sweet and savory greeted her, and suddenly, her shoulders dropped every so slightly. Who could be anxious in a place like this, yet she was. Muted jazz played in the background, bringing ease to her tight face. As she closed the door, she heard “Dahlia, you came” among the chatter. And with that, a warm embrace wrapped her like a cozy blanket. Of all the times she’d walked into a party in Greenwich, she’d never been greeted like this.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this,” Dahlia said with a smile that felt forced. There was no way to know what would happen. Sure, his note was a good sign, but there were still so many things to say and share. She glanced around the room, scanning the faces for that special one with eyes the color of oceanic bliss. It was a hearty crowd, but it appeared low-key, not like the Hamptons, thank God. She glanced at the unfamiliar but welcoming faces, and her jitters slowly melted like ice cream on a summer day.
“Gretchen, I feel like I’m in a little French café off a cobblestone street.” Dahlia spotted the botanicals stacked on the wall behind the bar. “Lil’s paintings.” She hesitated, knowing the storm she’d just survived had left debris in its wake. Dahlia’s nose tingled, and water pooled in her eyes. This time, they were happy tears. Tears that came from pride. “They look perfect.”
“Oh, don’t cry. She’d be happy. Wouldn’t she?” Gretchen asked.
“She would be tickled pink.” Dahlia blotted the corner of her eye with her finger.
“Come, I have someone I want to introduce you to. He took a liking to Lil’s paintings. He owns a gallery in Southampton.” Gretchen hooked her arm around hers and led the way. “He could be a good connection for you. I told him that you worked at MoMA.”
“Okay, sure,” Dahlia said, looking up, praying her makeup hid her swollen eyes. She gulped so hard she thought the entire room full of people could hear.
And then Noah’s bright gaze met hers from across the room, and a bolt of lightning shuddered straight through her body. God, he was a sight, so much so that her cheeks instantly grew warm and most likely red. She wanted to swim in those eyes and never leave. He nodded toward the back door, and that was all Dahlia needed to end her torment. “Gretchen, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Gretchen looked at Noah and snickered. “Go. This guy will be here for a while. And I know that guy”—she pointed to Noah—“can’t wait.”
“Thanks. Be back in a few.”
Even though Gretchen was five years younger than her, Dahlia knew she was wise beyond her years too. Childhood pain and trauma did that to a person, and that was part of their connection. They were warrior sisters, and maybe for that reason, Gretchen liked them together.
She rubbed the folds of her floral dress as she walked over to his beautiful, chiseled face, tucking her curl behind her ear. Why did she feel so awkward suddenly? “Hi.”
“Hey,” Noah said with a crooked smile, pulling his body off the wall. He was wearing a chambray button-up, and all she wanted to do was yank it closer. “Can we talk outside?”
“Sure.” Dahlia could feel her veins pulse in her throat. She followed him down the back door steps to the landing overlooking the vegetable and herb gardens. The air was stagnant, with a hint of warm dill and basil that clung to the air. Her chest thumped wildly, and her eyes landed on his Adam’s apple, bobbing most likely in anticipation of what was next.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.
“Oh, gosh.” Dahlia shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“But I do.”
“You don’t. I assure you.” Dahlia tried to find the right place to start. “I kept something from you that I shouldn’t have. I was wrong, but I want to explain why I didn’t tell you I have a daughter.” She took a breath, and he nodded, giving her the floor to continue. “You and I and what we’ve shared these last few weeks have been beyond anything I could have ever planned or hoped for. I wasn’t looking for anyone when I arrived at Lil’s. All I wanted wasto heal and find me again while I packed up the last of my family’s memories.”
He stepped closer; she could feel the heat emanating from his body. All she wanted to do was get lost in his arms, his eyes, and his presence, but she needed him to understand.
She collected herself and resumed. “But then I saw you in the barn, and everything I thought I wanted vanished into thin air.”
“I assumed you hated me that day.” He laughed, raising one brow.
“No, that was me flirting. And doing a very bad job at it.” She grimaced playfully. “I wanted you so bad I could taste it. In the days that followed, I’ve never felt so seen, protected, and helped in all my life. I felt like I had a do-over of my twenties.” She gazed at him with sincerity. “And I didn’t want to let that feeling go.”
“I wouldn’t have been upset if you told me, D.” He reached for her hand. “I was just angry you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”
“I should have.” She wanted to say more, but let him talk.
“I was so damaged when we met. I could never really trust anyone after the childhood I had, and then Josie used it all as a weapon. But you made it easy. I felt safe with you too. It blindsided me, and I was triggered. It brought me back to the lies my mother, the addict, told us daily. And the messed-up part is she believed them, every single one.”
