Page 82 of Love Out Loud

Noah hisses a breath in through his teeth. “Oof. That wasn’t a great move.”

“I see that now.”

“Her kid was being taken to the hospital. The one who just moved out of the house. And you told her to wait it out?”

“It’s more than that, though.” Finally, I turn to look at him. “She’s not sure where she’s headed after this. She hadn’t decided if she was going to stay at all. And now I’m worried I pushed her away and she’s never coming back.”

“You wanted her to move here permanently?” he asks. “Don’t get me wrong. That would be great for us, but I didn’t realize things were that serious yet.”

I shake my head like I also can’t believe it. “I didn’t see this coming, either. When I invited her out here, it was because we needed someone for the audiobook—and because I was watching her fade away over a phone screen. She needed this, too.”

Noah rubs his beard. “Let me guess. She’s unsure about giving up her life and a job back in the Midwest?”

I nod. “I offered to move back, but I was honest. I told her I would do it for her even though I didn’t want to. She was an entirely different person here, Noah. You didn’t know her before this, but it was like she found herself again. It was the brightest I’ve seen her shine in a while. She belongs here with me.”

“And you moved around your whole life, so now that you’ve found some permanence here, I imagine that’d be hard for you to give up,” he suggests.

I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but he’s probably on to something. While settling in LA had never been intentional, it happened. That and my tattoos and desperately hanging on to my friendship with Lark was all probably, at its core, an attempt to prove I could make something last. Which would explain why the thought of packing up my life and moving it across the country gave me a lot of anxiety.

“Yeah,” I croak out, swallowing and gripping my mug so hard my fingertips turn white.

“You love her?” Noah asks.

It’s a simple question, and there’s a simple answer. Yes. Of course I love her. More than anything or anyone in my entire life. So much that it consumes every waking thought, that her body near mine causes tiny explosions in every one of my cells.

But a simple yes isn’t big enough to encompass everything she is to me. And I’m suddenly too emotional about it to say anything, so I just nod.

“Did you tell her?” he prods.

And this is where I know I’m the dumbest man alive, because no. I’ve done a million things, big and small, over the years to show her how much she means to me, but I’ve never told her. Not really. And when she needed me to do the biggest thing and get on that plane with her, come what may, I let her down. Even though she didn’t ask me to come with her, she shouldn’t have had to. I should have offered. And when she inevitably said no, I should have done it anyway.

Noah doesn’t need me to admit it. My silence is admission enough. He sighs and sips his coffee, setting his mug carefully on the counter.

“What do I do?” I ask, my voice like sandpaper.

“You get on a plane. You find out where her kid is, and you go there. You wait until you know her kid is okay, then lay it all out. You tell her you fucking love her, and you do what it takes to fix this.”

I huff a sad laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and taps a few times. “There’s a red-eye that’ll get you there around six in the morning local time. Get some shit in a bag. I’ll drive you to the airport.” He smirks at me. “See? Easy.”

“It’s the rest of it that scares me,” I say quietly.

“Well, yeah. Love is scary as fuck.” He shrugs. “Take it one step at a time. And for the love of god”—he shoots me a pointed look—“don’t forget to pack deodorant.”