Cross My Heart

51. NOAH

Chapter 51

NOAH

I t’s been five days since I arrived at Warrior Refuge. Five days of endless time to think and reflect. Five days to think about the people I hurt when I attempted to take my own life. Five days to think about how I hurt myself. And five days to think about how my friends, my comrades, would’ve never wanted that for me. They would’ve wanted me to live a long, full life. And I just keep letting everyone down.

When I arrived here, I was skeptical. I didn’t know what to expect or how my time here would go. But between individual therapy and group therapy, I’ve already learned a lot. I’ve learned that I’m not guilty of being alive today, but that doesn’t mean that my mind is getting the memo. I still feel guilty, but logically I know I shouldn’t. It’s fucked up, and I’m tired. I just feel a bone-deep exhaustion. I want to get better; I just don’t know how. So I’m letting the experts guide me. I’m letting them teach me, and I’m open to learning.

I’m not going to lie, when I first got here, I was angry at Tyler. It felt like he betrayed me because he went behind my back and told my boss about it. But now those feelings of betrayal have been replaced by relief. Because if he hadn’t told on me, I probably would’ve tried to kill myself again. And I would’ve made sure I succeeded. Now, I can confidently say that I don’t want to die. I want to live . I want to be happy with Tyler and honor my friends’ lives by fighting for mine.

Group therapy has been the most helpful for me. I know the therapists are veterans, but they don’t really talk about their personal lives or their experiences much. Which is why I think the group has changed my life. Other people here have gone through similar experiences, and I feel…seen. Understood. I think it’s changing me and my life, knowing I’m not alone in this. That other people have struggled too and they’re still standing. It gives me hope for the future.

I wish Tyler could see me right now, could see all the progress I’m making. I get my first phone call in two more days, and I can’t wait to hear his voice. He wrote me a bunch of letters, one that I’m holding in my hand right now, but I haven’t opened any of them. I don’t know why I’m so scared to do it, but maybe it’s because I don’t know what to expect. Is he mad at me? Does he resent me? Or are they love letters? Who fucking knows, but the longer I sit here and stare at the envelopes, the more my anxiety rises. I need to just get it over with.

He wrote me a letter for each week that I’ll be here, and he told me to open each one before we get our phone call. I don’t know if he’ll remember and ask me if I’ve opened them, but something tells me this is important to him. So as I sit on my bed and stare at the envelope, I decide to rip it open. My hands shake slightly as I pull out the folded paper, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I begin to read it.

Dear Noah,

There are so many things I wish I could say to you in person, but a letter will have to do. First, I want to say I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry for telling on you. I know it was wrong of me. I hope you understand why I did it. More than I want your forgiveness, I want you to live. I want you to have a long and happy life, even if it’s without me.

From the time we met when we were thirteen years old, I’ve loved you. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. I’ve known it for a decade, and the truth is that I don’t want to live without you. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to find out. Maybe it makes me selfish to beg this of you, but please don’t leave me.

I hope this treatment facility helps you and returns you to me whole and happier. I wish you the best with healing, and I dream of our future often. I hope you do too.

I love you.

Forever yours,

Tyler

Folding the letter back up, I return it to the envelope and seal it once more. I don’t want it to get ruined. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’m keeping these letters forever. Until we’re old and wrinkly, I’ll still have these. And if he thinks he can get rid of me so easily, he’s got another thing coming. I wouldn’t leave him—not even if I had a gun to my head. I’d rather die than be without him.

Someone knocks on the door, and after I yell come in , they open it. It’s my new friend Caravas, and I know he’s coming to get me because it’s time for group therapy. I get up from the bed and follow him out, hot on his heels. The walk is short to the room where the chairs are arranged in a circle, and I take my seat and look down at my feet.

Sharing never gets easier, and I haven’t done much of it at all. I mostly listen, and what I like most about this program is that no one tries to force you to talk before you’re ready. I know people who have been here for a month or two and still haven’t shared. And you know what? That’s their right. If they feel more comfortable sharing during individual therapy and just listening during group, then that needs to be respected.

Today is different for me though. Today I’m ready to recount my story. Talk about the gory details that made me want to end my life. Talk about the guilt I feel when I wake up in the mornings and realize I’m the only one alive out of all my friends. Talk about how I miss them.

I wait for everyone to take their respective seats before looking at the therapist eagerly. We make eye contact, and he nods subtly. I know he understands what I’m trying to convey, and I’m grateful.

“Would anyone like to go first?” he asks the group. “Any volunteers?”

Immediately, I raise my hand. “Me.”

Everyone turns to look at me, and I swallow hard.

“Go ahead.” Conrad—the therapist—says. “Take your time. No pressure at all.”

I nod. “Hi, my name is Noah Milner, and I’m a lone survivor.”

For the next who knows how long, I recount the events of the worst day of my life. Everyone’s eyes are on me, and while it should bother me, I know they are paying close attention to what I’m saying. When I’m done, I hold my breath. Conrad praises me for my bravery, and everyone claps.

I’ve never felt more seen.

It’s been two months since I got here, and today is visitor’s day. Tyler is supposed to come see me, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous about it. This is the first time we’re seeing each other in months, and though we talk weekly, it’s not the same. Will things be awkward between us? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I open my door and make my way to the common room, sitting on the couch to wait for him. They told us most of the time they do the visitor’s day outside, but it’s really cold right now as it’s January, and they don’t want to put us through that. I wonder if being inside will be worse for us. If somehow being around other people will make things weird between us. But surely it won’t.

All of those thoughts die a quick death as Tyler walks toward me with purpose, a huge smile on his face. His eyes shimmer, and he looks sure of himself. So why am I not? Why am I so damn scared right now?

He looks good though, with his curly brown hair falling over his forehead, and his tight shirt hugging his biceps. His jeans fit him like a second skin, and my mouth waters involuntarily. As soon as he sits next to me on the couch, his clear-blue eyes dilate and he smirks, knowing damn well what he does to me.

The past two months have been some of the hardest of my life. Being here has taught me a lot about myself. It’s taught me to find my strength and take my power back. It’s taught me that what happens to us doesn’t define us. That I’m worthy of living a happy life. Being here has reminded me just how much I love Tyler Hayes. Deeply. Endlessly. He’s my sun, my moon, and all the stars in my night sky. He’s mine. All fucking mine.

“You look good,” I tell Tyler, breaking the silence. “Real good.”

Ty smirks. “You look even better.”

“Being here has been good for me,” I tell him, and he nods slowly. “I’ve learned a lot.”

“I’m happy for you, Noah.” He smiles, and my stomach flutters. It doesn’t matter how many times he directs that smile toward me, I’m a puddle every single time. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a new man.” I shrug, trying to play it off. But the truth is that being here has really opened my eyes to a new world. A new life. And I’m grateful to him. If I hadn’t hit rock bottom, I wouldn’t know just how badly I needed this. “Thank you.”

Tyler frowns. “For what?”

“Telling on me.” I grin, but he doesn’t return it. “I needed this, Ty. Being here has taught me a lot about myself. I wouldn’t have made any progress without coming here. I see that now.”

Tyler’s lips part, but he quickly schools his features. “So what have you learned?”

I sigh, scooting closer to him and grabbing his hand. I squeeze it gently, and he looks down at our connection. “I’ve learned to not take life for granted. That I deserve to be here, alive , and that my friends would’ve wanted that for me. I haven’t been doing any of that—not really. Up until now, I was just surviving. But I want to live, Ty. And I want to do it with you .”

He nods. “I want that too, baby.” His voice is thick with emotion, and he clears it. “That’s all I’ve wanted.”

“I know,” I reply. “I’m ready now.”

This time, Tyler is the one to squeeze my hand, a little rougher than I did to him. “Good, because I’ve been waiting for you.”

I laugh, and he does too. “Took you long enough.”

There’s a moment of silence between us, and when it seems like he’s not going to break it, I ask, “What about you, Ty? What have you been doing for the past two months?”

“I sold the bar and the house.” He shrugs nonchalantly, though I know he is anything but. “Now I’m living with my parents like a teenager. Waiting for you to get out of here so we can be together.”

“Sounds fitting.” I smirk. “You did promise you’d wait for me.”

Tyler chuckles, “Yeah, I did.” Another moment of silence, but this one is not uncomfortable. “So…what now?”

“Well, I have one month left,” I sigh. I’m ready to go home, but I also know I have to put in the work if I really want to get better. “Will you be okay until then?”

“I will be.” He smiles. “Knowing I get you when you’re done here is all the motivation I need to get me through this. But I meant—what happens after you’re done here? What’s our plan?”

“Well…” I frown. “We should start looking for a house as soon as I get out of here.”

“To rent or to buy?”

“I’d love to buy something together.” It screams commitment, and I want nothing more than to be committed to Tyler Hayes for the rest of my life. “And you could look for a bar at the Riverwalk. It would probably be the best location for you. All the soldiers go there during the weekends to get shit-faced.”

Tyler snorts, then smiles. “I want to go back to school.”

“Hell yes, Tyler.” I grin. “It’s about damn time.”

“I’m a free man now, Noah. Scarlett and I are officially divorced.”

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear those words until now, but they’re music to my ears. For the past sixteen years, I’ve wanted Tyler to be mine. Something always got in the way of it—but not now. He can’t escape me anymore. We’re meant to be. “Ty, do you believe in soulmates?”

Tyler seems to think about this, then says, “I believe in us.”

I believe in us.

Four words shouldn’t turn my world upside down, because the truth is—I believe in us too.

So fucking much.