5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Noah
"Noah, Lily is family," Jon's words echo in my ears, but I ignore them. Instead, I lose myself in the intoxicating sweetness of her lips and the softness of her body, kissing her with a passion that makes her melt in my arms. Surrendering to this moment, I gently massage the nape of her neck and deepen the kiss until she releases a soft moan that makes my heart soar and break all at once because I know this can never happen again. I wish I could kiss her all night, but I reluctantly pull away and wait for her to open her eyes. When she does, her gaze is as beautiful as it is trusting, those sapphire blue eyes seemingly reaching into the depths of my soul.
"Kiss me again," she says breathlessly.
When I wrap my hands around her shoulders and gently push her back, her eyes fill with confusion and hurt, and it tears at my heart.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing is wrong, Sweetheart."
"You're lying," she says, searching my face. "You think this was a mistake."
"Kissing you could never be a mistake," I say softly.
"Don't patronize me, Noah," she whispers, looking directly at me, one eyebrow raised. "I might be young, but I'm not stupid. Just be honest."
"I'm a forty-year-old man, divorced, with a child. You're a gorgeous twenty-three-year-old with your whole life ahead of you."
"So you're using your perceived baggage against me?"
"My son is not baggage," I say—a tinge of defensiveness in my voice.
"Exactly!" she exclaims. "Neither is your age or your past."
"You're a close friend of my family. My brother and his wife see you like a daughter."
"What does that have to do with this?" she asks calmly. "You know what? Nevermind. I should've gone to Florida with the rest of the family."
"I'm glad you're here," I say, desperate to fix this.
"I stayed here to meet you and Davey. I spent over a month preparing this house, wanting everything to be perfect for your arrival."
"It is perfect," I say, stepping closer. "Everything you've done is perfect. You’re perfect."
"But not perfect for you. That's what you mean."
My silence is all the confirmation she needs.
"Goodnight, Noah. I'll see you in the morning."
Every fiber in my body screams for me to stop her from leaving, but I don't listen. I let her walk out the door, and as God is my witness, my heart goes with her.
***
After a sleepless night and after my third cup of coffee in two hours, I realize caffeine won't chase away my foul mood. A knock on the door interrupts my brooding thoughts.
As I open the door, I brace myself for the inevitable—a heated confrontation with Lily. But her greeting catches me off guard. "Good morning!" she says cheerfully. I was expecting a tongue-lashing at the very least and the silent treatment at the worst. Instead, she disarms me with a warm smile.
"Good morning," I reply cautiously.
"You look like hell," she says with a smile.
"Excuse me?" I retort, my tone edged with irritation.
"You must have had a long night," she continues, her smile unwavering. "You haven't had your coffee yet?"
"I've had three cups," I say, narrowing my eyes.
"You need a fourth," she quips, her sarcasm cutting through my mental fog. If I wasn't awake ten seconds ago, I am now.
"What should I make Davey for breakfast?" she asks, strolling towards the refrigerator with a casual grace. "Tell me what he likes."
"He likes everything—cereal, eggs, oatmeal, fruit."
“Okay,” she says, reaching into the refrigerator. “I can make Japanese omelets. Does that work for you?”
“You know how to make tamagoyaki?”
“I do,” she replies with a warm smile. “I can also whip up miso soup, tamago kake gohan, nattō, rice, and grilled fish.”
“I’m impressed,” I say, mirroring her smile. Could it be that last night’s misstep is beginning to fade?
“I told you," she says, her blue eyes reassuring. "I prepared for your arrival."
“What else did you learn just for us?” I ask, my admiration clear.
"A lot," she says, brushing past me, "but some things you'll never get the chance to know."
"Aah," I say, raising an eyebrow. "Is this supposed to be your 'gotcha' moment?"
"No," she says simply. "I've just realized that I might have wasted my time, so I won't be investing more than the bare minimum into this landlord-tenant-nanny relationship."
"Lily, this passive-aggressive attitude is beneath you."
"How would you know? You never gave yourself a chance to truly get to know me, so stop with the empty remarks."
"I'll be in the office if you need me," I say, striving to keep my composure and not lose my temper.
"Don’t worry," she replies, her voice steady, "I don't need anything from you."
I turn and walk away, the sinking feeling in my gut telling me that last night’s misstep wasn’t just a lapse in judgment—it was a colossal mistake that will cost me dearly.
Back in my office, I try to convince myself that keeping a safe distance from Lily is the only way to ensure that last night’s disaster won’t repeat itself.
I sit in front of my laptop and watch the minutes tick by, unable to type a single word as inspiration eludes me.
"Daddy!" Davey's little voice pierces through my gloom, bringing a smile to my face despite the blank screen on my laptop and the knot tightening in my stomach.
"Good morning, Buddy. Did you sleep okay?"
"Yep!" he says, climbing onto my lap. "Are you going to eat breakfast with me and Lily?"
It's time to face the music.
As soon as we enter the kitchen, the aroma of bacon and syrup fills the air. Lily is pouring orange juice into glasses, and the table is set with a spread that makes my mouth water. A stack of pancakes, bacon, and tamagoyaki are arranged neatly on a platter, inviting us to dig in.
"Do you want juice or milk?" Lily asks, addressing Davey. I wish she were speaking to me.
"Milk, please," Davey chimes in.
Lily spends the next half hour engrossed in conversation with Davey, barely acknowledging me except when I force her to with a direct question. Her smile is fixed and bright, but it only lights up when she speaks to Davey. I feel the tension building; her blue gaze clearly reflects her displeasure with me.
"So your parents live in Mexico," I say, recalling our conversation about Mérida.
"Only my dad," she corrects me softly. "Mom passed away three years ago."
"I'm sorry for your loss," I say, feeling an urge to hug her.
"Your mommy died?" Davey asks, his eyes wide with concern.
Lily nods, giving him a faint smile. "Yes, she did."
"My mommy didn't die," Davey says quietly. "She left me."
My eyes dart to Lily, and I wonder if I should intervene or let her address Davey's heartbreaking confession on her own.
"Your daddy told me she calls you almost every night," Lily says, looking at Davey.
"I get to see her on video chat," he says, his voice brightening.
"I don't get to talk to my mommy," Lily continues gently. "You're pretty lucky. You get to tell her you love her, and she tells you she loves you."
"She also tells me good night."
"That's wonderful, Davey. You're a lucky little boy. I can tell your mommy loves you very much."
"I love her too," he says, biting into a slice of bacon.
I watch Lily look away, dabbing the corner of one eye with her fingertip.
After breakfast, she asks Davey to pick a book to read together. He eagerly jets up the stairs, leaving us alone in the heavy, pregnant silence.
"Would it be alright if I take Davey to Cara's for a couple of hours this afternoon to swim with Ava?" she asks. "I promise to keep a very close eye on him. He’ll be safe, and you’ll have some quiet time to focus on your writing."
"Of course," I reply, grateful for her reassurance. "Davey is a good swimmer, but I'd appreciate it if you stayed close to him. He's still too young to swim completely unsupervised."
"I agree," she says, nodding in understanding.
When Davey reappears with a book, Lily suggests they take it outside to read. I lead them to the back porch, where sunlight filters through the trees, casting a golden glow over the garden. As they wander away, their laughter mingling with the rustling leaves, I’m left behind, my heart quietly aching for the moment when we’ll be together again.
Nearly three hours later, the back door swings open, and their voices burst into the house like a lively melody. A smile tugs at my lips as I hurry to the kitchen.
"Are you two starving?" I ask, my tone light. "How about we grab some pizza in town?"
"Pizza sounds yummy!" Davey exclaims.
I turn to Lily, my gaze lingering on her beautiful face, silently hoping she'll say yes.
Her eyes drift away as she turns down my invitation. “I’ll see you when you get back. Then we can head over to Cara’s to visit Ava and maybe go for a swim. How does that sound, Davey?”
“Yeah!” Davey cheers, his excitement evident in his bright smile.
***
The rent check on the table marks the start of a new month. Lily's demeanor remains impeccably professional yet frustratingly distant, her detachment an ever-present backdrop to our days.
Meanwhile, Davey is thriving. His progress is remarkable as he eagerly anticipates starting school in the fall. His math and spelling skills have soared, and his dedication to swimming is evident in his perfectly bronze tan. To say I’m proud of his achievements would be an understatement—a testament to his hard work and Lily’s quiet dedication.
My family will be back from their Florida vacation this month. Jon and Sharon urged us to join them before they left, but I felt the pull to stay here and create a stable routine for Davey. The warmth and structure Lily has brought into our lives are giving him the stability he needs as he prepares for kindergarten. Every morning, her laughter fills the house, and I see the sparkle in Davey's eyes as he learns and grows.
"Where's Lily?" Davey asks, glancing at the clock as it strikes two. She was supposed to be home an hour ago. She said she would be at the daycare, painting the walls, but promised to be back by one.
"She should be home any minute, Son," I reassure him, though I’m starting to feel a bit anxious myself.
When my phone rings, Davey dashes to grab it from the counter, his face lighting up. "Hello? Hi, Lily! Why aren't you home yet?"
I motion for him to ease up, but he’s too excited to notice. "You were supposed to take me to Ava's, remember?"
"Give me the phone," I say, gently reaching for it.
Davey reluctantly hands it over, and I immediately start apologizing to Lily. "I’m so sorry, Lily—"
"Hi, Noah," she interrupts. "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it."
"Is everything okay?" I ask. The tone in her voice immediately has me on edge. Something is wrong.
"I fell," she begins, her voice trembling slightly. "Zoe drove me to the emergency room."
My heart races, panic surging through me. "What do you mean, you fell? Where? How? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she reassures me, her tone calm but strained. "I took a misstep climbing down the ladder and fell on my butt."
"I'm coming to get you," I say without hesitation. "Where are you?"
"There's no need, really."
"Lily, I'm not debating this, Sweetheart. Where are you?"
***
As I walk through the hospital hallways, searching for her room, a sense of panic grips me—one I’ve only ever felt for my son. The thought of her hurt and alone twists my heart.
When I finally see her, I rush to her side. "Are you okay?" I ask, my voice filled with concern. Her ankle is strapped and elevated on a pillow.
"Where's Davey?" she asks, her eyes full of worry.
"I dropped him off at Patrick's. All their grandkids are there today, so he's having fun. Don’t worry about him."
"I'm so sorry, Noah. I'm such a klutz. Ugh!" she exclaims, frustration evident in her voice.
Before I can second-guess my actions, I’ve lifted her hand to my lips. “You scared me,” I whisper, my voice laced with profound relief. Thank God you’re okay.”
She gently pulls her hand away, resting it softly on her lap, leaving my heart aching for the warmth of her skin.
"Have you been discharged?" I ask, hearing her unspoken message loud and clear: "Don't touch me."
"Yes," she replies with an awkward smile. "I'm ready to go."
Twenty minutes later, a nurse follows me as I gently guide Lily in a wheelchair to the hospital exit, where my car waits. The nurse watches as I help Lily into the front seat, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment.
“Lily,” I begin softly as we pull into our driveway, “I know this might not be what you want to hear, but I think you should move in with us until you fully recover.”
“No way!” she protests, her eyes flashing with defiance.
“You can hardly stand,” I counter gently.
“It doesn’t matter!” she retorts, glaring at me from her seat.
With a heavy sigh, I park the car and pop the trunk. My heart aches with the need to protect her as I walk to the passenger side. I open her door and offer her my hand, but she ignores it, determined to extract herself from the car without my help.
She stands on one foot, wincing in pain as she puts weight on her injured leg. “Oww!” she exclaims, her face contorted with discomfort.
“Here,” I say gently, “go ahead and lean on me.”
She reluctantly takes my arm, but she pulls away when I wrap my other arm around her waist.
“You can’t walk to the front door by yourself,” I say, shaking my head in frustration.
“I’ll figure it out,” she replies matter-of-factly, her tone defiant.
“Let me get the crutches,” I offer. “Don’t move.”
She rolls her eyes at me, the gesture not lost on me. I fetch the crutches and hand them to her, knowing she won’t accept any more help. As she tries to slip the second one under her arm, she stumbles, nearly falling. I catch her just in time.
“Are you going to be this stubborn for the rest of your recovery?” I ask, smiling despite the tension.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the fight between us melts away, leaving only the unspoken connection that neither of us can deny.
“This isn’t funny, Noah,” she says, her voice trembling with uncertainty and raw emotion. “I’m going to be completely useless until I can walk again.”
“Can I ask you to trust me?” I plead, my voice brimming with hope. “Just for the next week?”
"I don't know if I have a choice," she says begrudgingly. "With the Linder family on vacation, I'm all alone."
"You’re not alone, Sweetheart," I reply, my voice filled with a desperate hope to reassure her. "You have me."
"I don't have anyone," she whispers, her eyes welling up with tears.
Without thinking, I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her and praying she won’t push me away. The moment is fragile, and my heart aches with the fear of rejection.