Tori cups my face, forcing me to turn my head to face her. “It is not your fault,” she repeats, and I try desperately to believe her words.
“I know, but I can’t help but feel like I failed them both.”
“You didn’t fail them. You’ve spent your whole life trying to save people, Noah, but who saved you?”
Her words sink in, and they feel heavy, and something I’m not ready to process because if I was being honest, I don’t think anyone has ever tried to save me, so I shake them off and bury them.
“I’ve failed a lot of people in my life: my mom, my sister… Scotty, you.” I swallow the lump in my throat that’s so thick it almost chokes me. My words tumble from my lips without warning. “I’m so fucking sorry, Tor. I tried to save him. If I could swap places with him, so it was him you were lying in this bed with instead of me, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It should have been me—”
Tori startles me by sitting up and leaning over me. “Noah Jones, don’t you ever, ever say that again. Do you hear me?”
I clench my jaw so tight I wait for a tooth to crack.
“What happened to Trent was no one’s fault. Only the man who shot him is to blame. You didn’t fail anyone, and you deserve to be here.” I sit up, resting my elbows on my thighs, my head falling to my hands. This conversation took a turn, but in some twisted way, it felt good to say it. She makes it feel safe enough to admit it all out loud.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag up all your trauma, Noah.”
Tori’s beautiful face glows in the moonlight.
“You don’t have to be sorry about a thing, Tor. You make it feel safe enough to be honest. You are the only person I can open up to like this.”
I press my forehead to hers and just let myself breathe her in as she drags her hand up and down my bare back in comforting strokes, making my skin heat under her touch.
“I’m glad you are still here, Noah,” she whispers.
I tilt my head, closing my eyes, brushing my nose with hers, our lips almost meeting and hovering longer than needed, and we stay like that, hearts beating erratically, blood pumping, and that quiet ache of what could be if one of us were just brave enough to cross the line, lingering and growing louder.
In a moment of weakness, I press a soft kiss to her lips, and time stops. She feels warm and familiar and tastes of everything I have been craving. I keep it brief and fleeting, too scared to push for more, and then I slowly and reluctantly part from her and wait for the guilt to seep into my bones.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” I confess, not able to pull away and create that distance from her.
“Please don’t be sorry,” she replies. “I think we both needed that just then.” And she was right. I needed that connection forjust a second, but holy shit has it left me wanting and needing more.
I lay back against the mattress, taking her with me, my arms wrapped around her, as I press a kiss to her temple. I’ll worry about the repercussions tomorrow, but for now, I’ll hold her for as long as she’ll let me.
“Night, Tor.”
“Night, Noah.”
And then I drift off with her securely in my arms and have the most peaceful sleep I have had in over a year.
Chapter Twenty
Tori
We woke, hit the highway, and made the rest of the journey without any mention of the kiss. At one point, I questioned if it was a dream, a figment of my imagination, but the warmth of his lips still lingered on mine.
How I feel about Noah can’t be explained easily. My feelings for him are deep, complex, and now, confusing. Until a year ago, I was so sure of what I wanted, where my life was heading, and who I wanted to spend my life with. But now there is a hole in my heart that Trent used to fill with love and hopes for the future. Every memory of my adult life so far held his name, and the thought of making new ones without him is sometimes unimaginable.
But amongst the pain and sadness that comes with grief, there are fragments of happiness and relief mixed in with it all. Wherejust for a moment, life feels lighter, and you forget you’re sad, and that’s because of Noah. He held my heart when it was struggling to beat, reminding me there was a reason to stay and fight, and I will forever be grateful to him. Now, though, after last night, there is a whisper of what could be, and it makes my stomach flutter with hope that maybe I’m not completely broken, but of course, where there is hope, there is guilt. Guilt for thinking about moving on, for imagining a life beyond Trent. So, as quickly as the happiness blooms, it wilts when reality hits me all over again.
“You’ve been quiet. What’s going through that head of yours?” Noah comments as he tosses a Sour Patch Kid into his mouth. The satnav says we have about an hour left until we reach our destination, and we may be able to make it to the cliffs before the sun sets.
“I’m fine. Just nervous for the jump, I guess,” I lie.
“You’ll be fine. You can do this. I’ve not driven all this way for you to bail on me, Victoria May Walker. You hear me.” He pokes me softly in my side, and I laugh.
“I won’t, I promise.”
