It took time, but I channeled my energy into something worthwhile. I worked my way up the ranks quickly in the special forces. I’ve lost count of how many countries I’ve been to, how many lives I’ve taken, and how many I’ve saved. It’s all part of the job, a job that gives me a purpose and a reason to get up in the morning and keep trying.
A heavy weight has laid in the pit of my stomach since I landed. I’ve questioned if I am making the right choice. My entire job revolves around choices. Sometimes you make a bad one, and sometimes you make the right one, and most of the time I was confident that I had made the choice that felt right at the time. I ruled with my head. But this choice, this one was ruled entirely by my heart.
I pay the driver and step out of the cab, before placing my dress hat on. I take a deep breath before climbing the steps up to the tall white building. I follow the signs for the room I need, and I’m met with staff members welcoming me and thanking me for my service. I might seem tall and confident on the outside, but inside I’m shaking like a leaf. I think about turning around, letting my nerves get the better of me, but I round the corner and hear the voice that haunts my dreams. When I tuck myself behind a staff member at the back of the ballroom. I see her face, and it steals my breath. Tori is wearing a one-shoulder emerald green dress, her hair flowing, and the compass necklace sparkling under the spotlight focused on her. Relief washes over me.
She never forgot me and our time together.
She looks more beautiful, more confident, and more elegant than I could have imagined. My chest blooms with pride. She was right to walk away, and I was right to let her go, even if it was the most painful thing I’ve ever done.
But now I worry that coming here to surprise her may have been a mistake. I caused her enough pain in the past, but the need to check on her became unbearable, so now I’m standing here, watching her address the room and I have to decide: do I stay, or do I silently walk away?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tori
I did it. I got up in front of hundreds of people and told my story. I’ve lost sleep over it this week, but I did it. I just hope I made Trent proud. After my speech, I was introduced to more people from the charity, and they thanked me for my powerful words and for my support, but really, they have helped me. They were what I needed and helped me connect with people in the same situation as me. It was a healthy way to heal.
Needing a second to just catch my breath and have a moment alone, I excuse myself and head outside to the terrace that overlooks the Thames, and I’m thankful when I find myself alone. It’s a warm summer evening here in London, but the river brings a welcome breeze.
I plant my hands on the rails of the balcony and close my eyes, taking in a deep breath as a hundred different emotionsrun through my brain, and of course, my thoughts lead to Noah. I wish he could have been here tonight. Maybe I should have asked him. It’s been five years. He’s probably moved on, maybe even met someone. I think clearing the air with him is the last piece to my healing puzzle. I decide I’m going to get in touch with him and have the conversation I have avoided for so long.
I push back off the railings and turn to head back inside, but my body freezes, and I have to take a beat to make sure what I’m seeing is real and not a figment of my imagination.
“Noah?”
Is all I manage to say. I blink, expecting him to disappear but he doesn't. He stands in front of me dressed in his formal military uniform and the attraction to him is still there, maybe even stronger now if the way my heart flutters and my body heats at the sight of him is anything to go by.
“Hey, Tor.”
Those two words make my feet move without thinking. Like a magnet, I’m drawn to him. I fling my arms around him and bury my face into his neck, inhaling his familiar cedar wood scent that reminds me of home, and let my body melt into his. He hugs me back just as tightly, and I pray he never lets me go.
“I’ve missed you too,” he whispers.
I cling on tighter in fear that this could be a dream, and he will disappear.
“Are you really here?” I ask.
“Yes, darlin’, I’m really here.”
I lean back and cup his face, inspecting every inch of him. There’s a new small scar above his right eyebrow, a few extra creases around his eyes, but it’s him. It's my Noah.
“It’s really you,” I confirm more to myself than anything.
“You look good, Tor. I’m so fucking proud of you. I saw your speech. Scot… Trent, would be so proud.”
I chew the inside of my cheek and fight back tears.He saw.
I let go of his face, and my hands fall to his chest, my fingertips stroking over the row of medals on his jacket. More have been added since I last saw him in a uniform.
“You’ve been busy,” I state.
“So have you.”
“I can’t believe you came here. For me?” I say it more like a question than a statement.
“I’d do anything and go anywhere for you. You should know that.”
I let his words sink in, my heart thumping wildly as I try to process it all. He’s here. In London. He came here for me.
