10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Lily
Did he just say he loves me? An overwhelming sense of panic rises within me as I wait for him to repeat it. What if I heard him wrong? I hold my breath, staring at him, hoping for confirmation.
"Say something," he says, his gaze penetrating and intense.
"Did you just say?" I ask, hoping he'll fill in the blank.
"I love you," he whispers, gently massaging my neck and stirring up a wave of emotions inside me so strong I feel I might burst out laughing, crying, or both.
"I love you too," I say, the words feeling both foreign and true. "I love you, Noah. I've loved you since the moment you called me a kid."
He laughs—a loud, infectious laugh that reaches the deepest part of my soul.
We sit and gaze into each other's eyes, letting the seconds tick by. When he gently pulls me towards him, I close my eyes and wait for his lips to meet mine. He tastes so good. The gentle, steady motion of his lips on mine slowly transforms into an intense, rhythmic dance that leaves me breathless. With Noah, each kiss is an unspoken promise of love and a future.
When he pulls away from me, I open my eyes and find him studying my face.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I've fallen deeply in love with you, Sweetheart. You know that?"
I nod. "Your eyes speak to me with every glance. I know you love me."
"I’m not sure how everyone in our lives will react to us being together."
"Like my father," I say. "He thinks I’m too young."
"And that I’m too old, I would imagine," he adds with a small, knowing smile.
"You're perfect," I say, smiling back.
"Marian will try to use Davey to get what she wants."
I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling the weight of the unspoken truth. I can't give him what Marian did—a child.
"Tell him! Not now! Tell him! I will!" The war within me rages, two voices battling for control, each pulling me in opposite directions—my heart pounds in my chest, wild and relentless. But in the end, love wins. “Noah,” I manage to say, my voice trembling as my mouth goes dry.
He steadies his gaze on me, his eyes filled with the unwavering love I've come to recognize in just one look.
"What is it?" he asks, reaching for me again and pulling me into his arms.
"Five years ago," I begin, "some friends invited me to a party. I knew there would be drinking."
Noah sits up, sensing that I'm about to share something important.
"It was the week before my eighteenth birthday. I wasn't a drinker—never liked it—but that night, I ignored every instinct. I was young, reckless, and too naive to realize how drunk I was. But I got behind the wheel anyway."
"Lily," my name on his lips sounds desperate and panicked, his concern palpable.
"I never made it home."
He says nothing, sensing that he shouldn't interrupt. Instead, I feel his reassuring hand resting on mine, giving me the courage to continue.
"I woke up in the hospital three days later."
His eyes fill with a storm of emotions as I recount everything—how I couldn't remember what happened, drifting in and out of consciousness, and the doctor’s words to my parents, saying that my chances of ever conceiving were slim, if not impossible. When I finish, the silence that follows is deafening. The weight of it becomes unbearable, and I finally break.
"Do you still want me?" I ask, my voice trembling. "Even if I’m broken?"
"Oh, Sweetheart," he whispers, his voice soft and full of love, "you’re not broken. You’re perfect."
I recognize that look in his eyes, the way his lips curl into a knowing smile—he’s going to kiss me. I close my eyes, waiting, but when nothing happens, I open them to find him gazing at me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. "I want you, Lily," he whispers in answer to my question. When our lips finally meet, it's like the first time all over again—a rush of tenderness floods over me and pulls me into him until it feels like we’re one, our hearts beating in perfect harmony.
***
The days leading up to my father’s visit are a whirlwind of activity—the first real test Noah and I must face together.
Sam and Laila, who are temporarily living in Boston, have generously offered their house for Dad to stay in while he's here. So, the day before his arrival, Lisa and I are here dusting, cleaning, and stocking the fridge, preparing for his stay.
As we unpack groceries, Lisa glances at me, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “So, things with Noah are serious?” she asks, pulling out a carton of eggs. “He’s a whole adult older than you, Bestie. Are you sure you want to go there?”
“I love him,” I confess. “I think I've been there and back. I can’t imagine my life without him and Davey.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I guess I’m just not into older men. But I have to admit, I’ve always thought your dad is devastatingly handsome. And that accent is enough to make my heart flutter.”
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn, my tone half-joking, half-serious.
“Why not?” she teases. “You wouldn’t want me as your stepmom?”
“Lisa!”
She laughs, but her eyes sparkle with mischief. “If your dad gave me a bouquet of roses after a first date like Noah did for you, I might rethink my stance on older men.”
I shake my head, more serious now. “Trust me, the only bouquet my father would ever give you is a bunch of red flags.”
“Whoa!” Lisa exclaims, her playful tone dropping. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
I sigh, the truth slipping out before I can stop it. “The only serious relationship my father ever had was with Mom, and he still cheated on her. Now, he’s a chronic middle-aged playboy. So, again, don’t even think about it. I mean it!”
***
My nerves are on edge as I wait at the airport for Dad's flight to land, the anticipation mounting with every passing minute. When I finally spot him, maneuvering through the crowd with two suitcases in tow, I wave him over. As he reaches me, I greet him with a warm embrace.
"Hola, carino!" he says, kissing me gently on the forehead. "Look at you. You look great, Mija. You look happy."
"Thank you, Dad, I am happy."
As we drive home, he asks, "How are the Linders doing?"
"They'll be back this Friday," I reply. "It’ll be so nice to have everyone home again."
"You usually go with them to Florida. What made you decide to stay behind this year?"
"I wanted to be here to meet Noah and Davey," I say honestly. Then, I recount the entire story of how we met, ducks included.
"Why didn’t he come with you to pick me up?" His voice carries a hint of reproach.
"He’s meeting with his publisher in Albany today," I explain. "Noah’s a writer."
Dad nods thoughtfully. "And his boy? Aren't you his babysitter?"
"Yes," I reply with a smile. "Lisa’s watching him until we get back."
"Your old roommate, Lisa?" he asks, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
"Yes. They’re waiting for us at Sam and Laila's house."
He gives me a sidelong look. "So… is Lisa dating anyone?"
I shoot him a warning glance. "Dad, don't you dare even think about hitting on my friend. I mean it!"
He bursts out laughing, the sound rich and teasing, making it clear he was only pulling my leg.
"So, are you still going out with Noah Linder?"
"Yes, I’m still seeing Noah."
He straightens, crossing his arms, the silence thick and palpable. I feel his gaze on me, but I keep my eyes on the road, bracing myself. When the silence stretches too long, I take a deep breath, ready to face whatever’s on his mind.
"Go ahead, Dad," I say, meeting his steady look. "Tell me what you're thinking. I’ll listen, but it won’t change anything. Noah and I are in love."
"In love?" He repeats the words like they’re a bad punchline. "You have no idea what love is. You're innocent, and he's taking advantage of that—using your inexperience for his own gain."
Well, he certainly didn’t hold back. "Dad, you don’t know him. It’s unfair for you to pass judgment on someone you’ve never even met."
"He's a forty-year-old man wanting to—" he stops in mid-sentence, leaving me to imagine the rest.
"Noah has been nothing but a gentleman. He’s a good man, Dad, and you’ll just have to trust that I know how to judge his character because I know him. You don’t."
"What does the mother of his son think about all this?" he asks. "I can't imagine she’d be thrilled about a woman half her age raising her child."
"Dad, I’m already raising her child," I point out. "I spend all day, every day with Davey."
"You’re taking on a life and a responsibility that don’t belong to you, Mija."
I take a moment to consider his words before responding. "It’s what I want, Dad. I want Noah and I want Davey in my life. It’s the life I choose, and what you call responsibility, I call a blessing and an honor. I love them. I love them both."
Putting feelings into words, feelings that have been growing in my heart for weeks, makes me realize just how far I’m willing to go to protect what Noah and I have built—and the future that awaits us.
"Have you told him about your accident?" Dad asks, pulling me back from my thoughts. "Because once he knows you can’t give him more children, he’ll dump you."
"Dump me? Dad, sometimes your words can be so harsh."
"I’m sorry, Mija, it’s the language barrier," he laughs nervously.
"I’m sure it sounds just as cruel in Spanish," I reply, my tone devoid of amusement.
"Well? Have you told him?"
"Yes, I told him. He doesn’t care that I can't have children. He loves me, Dad."
"Oh, Mija. At your age, it’s so easy to trust a man when you’re infatuated with him."
"So when Mom met and married you, was she just infatuated ?"
"You make a valid point," he concedes, "but your mother wasn’t half my age when we met."
"You're so focused on our age difference that you're missing the most important point I’m trying to make. He. Loves. Me."
"Is your daycare open for business yet?" he asks, shifting the subject from Noah and me to something that won't start a fight.
"Enrollment begins next month," I say, "and the doors will open the day after Labor Day, on the first day of school."
"I would love to see what you've done with the space," he says. “The last time I came to see you, you showed it to me, but it was hard to picture what you had envisioned for it."
"It's perfect!" I exclaim, my voice brimming with pride.
"I can hardly believe you’ve accomplished so much on your own," he says. "I’m so proud of you."
Dad doesn’t spell it out, but what he means is that I’ve managed to start a business without touching a single penny from my trust fund—the one I can’t access until I turn twenty-five or get married, whichever comes first.
"I can't wait to give you a tour," I smile. "Maybe after you get settled in at the house."
***
"Lily!" Davey exclaims, running to greet me at the door with Lisa close behind.
"Hi, Davey!" I say, lifting him into my arms. "Thank you so much for watching him, Lisa."
"You're welcome," Lisa smiles, her eyes flicking briefly to my handsome, blue-eyed father. "Hi, Mr. Cruz. It's nice to see you again."
Dad extends his hand to Lisa, flashing that perfectly straight, white smile. "Likewise," he says, his charm as disarming as ever. I notice the way his gaze lingers on her, clearly admiring her beauty.
"How long will you be in town?" Lisa asks, her tone light and friendly.
"For a couple of weeks," he replies, "I'm here to spend time with my pride and joy."
Heeding my warning, Lisa grabs her purse from the console table and slings the strap over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I have to run," she says. "I’ve got a meeting with a prospective client in twenty minutes."
"Of course," I reply. "Thanks again for watching Davey. I'll see you on Sunday."
"Yep, see you then," Lisa says as she heads out the door and quickly walks to her car.
"What’s Sunday?" Dad asks.
"Dinner with the Linders," I explain. "Don't worry, Dad, you're invited."
Dad starts unpacking his things in the spare bedroom while Davey helps me set the table. This morning, I put a pot roast in the slow cooker, and Lisa roasted some asparagus and made a simple green salad with cucumbers and cherry tomatoes.
"It smells amazing in here," Dad says, stepping into the kitchen. The delicious aroma signals that our cozy dinner is nearly ready.
"Are you Lily's daddy?" Davey asks, looking up at Dad. "Your eyes look like hers."
"Yes, I'm her papá," Dad replies.
"Papá." Davey repeats, "That means Dad in Spanish."
"You speak Spanish, young man?" Dad asks, intrigued.
"I speak English, Spanish, and Japanese," Davey says with a bright smile.
"Show me," Dad says, smiling.
I expect Davey to shy away from the request, but without missing a beat, he happily complies. "Yo hablo espanol," he adds in perfect Spanish, and then, in what must be flawless Japanese, he says, "Watashi wa nihongo o hanashimasu."
"I'm impressed," Dad says, raising an eyebrow. "How do you say Dad in Japanese?"
"Otōsan," Davey replies.
"Good job, Davey!" I say. "You're such a smart little boy. Your mom and dad must be so proud of you."
After dinner, Dad and Davey settle in for a game of Chutes and Ladders while I clean the kitchen and load the dishwasher. I can hear their conversation, mostly in Spanish. Dad asks Davey about his life in Japan, school, the culture, and the food, and Davey responds eagerly. Davey’s laughter fills the room, loud and contagious, as he tries to teach Dad a few phrases in Japanese.
"I'll pick you up in the morning," I tell Dad before leaving. "Say around ten? We can head to the daycare for the tour and then grab lunch afterward."
"That sounds great," he replies. "I was planning to go for a hike in the morning, so ten is perfect."
I kiss him on the cheek, and Davey shakes his hand before we walk out the door.
"At some point," Dad says, making eye contact with me, "I would like to meet your Romeo. The sooner, the better."
"Who's Romeo?" Davey asks as I buckle him into his car seat.
"Romeo is your daddy, Baby."
"My daddy’s name is Noah," Davey corrects me.
I smile and kiss him on the forehead before driving us both home to Noah—my Romeo.
***
As I park in the driveway, the front door swings open, and Noah comes down the steps to greet us. The broad smile on his face makes my heart sing. He’s so handsome, so ruggedly good-looking, that I can’t help but catch my breath at the sight of him.
Davey is fast asleep in the back seat—the little language enthusiast who didn't miss his chance to impress my dad with his multilingual talents.
"Is he asleep?" Noah asks, approaching us. I nod and smile. The closer he gets, the more my heart flutters in my chest. His nearness awakens a warmth in me and fills me with expectation because I know that every moment we share will be something beautiful and profound.
"I missed you today," he says, wrapping his arms around me.
"Noah?" I whisper, looking into his mesmerizing eyes.
"Hmm?" he smiles, pulling me closer.
"Do I make you as happy as you make me?" I ask breathlessly.
"Can I show you how happy you make me?" he asks, his voice rich with promise and longing.
"Show me," I say, cupping his face with my hands.
I taste lemonade on his lips—sweet and cool, as they tease and explore mine with so much tenderness that it could be my undoing. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, silently urging him to deepen the kiss. I want to get lost in this moment that feels like it should never end. After a few precious seconds, he pulls away and clears his throat, smiling and holding my gaze.
"I better take Davey up to his room," he says.
"Yeah," I reply softly. "He’s had a long day."
In the kitchen, I find an untouched ham sandwich and an almost empty glass of lemonade sitting on the counter, evidence of a snack made in a hurry.
"You're still here." Noah's deep, husky voice wraps around me like a sweet, captivating melody, pulling me in with its irresistible allure.