29. Twenty-Nine
Twenty-Nine
Noah
I take the steps two at a time, following Lennon into the bedroom and closing the door.
“Lennon,” I say, but she turns on me.
“You couldn’t have just left it?”
I reel back. I understand why she’s pissed. Her father is an asshole and doesn’t believe in anything she’s doing. I just watched her family sit idle while he tore her down–and the husband?
Fucking piece of work.
What I didn’t expect was for Lennon to turn this on me. “What are you even talking about right now?” I step forward, but she moves back, her face twisted into a look of disgust.
“I don’t need your help, Noah. If you knew how to shut up, he would have stopped.”
The words fly through the air, sharp like blades as they hit their mark. If it wasn’t bad enough that Lennon claimed to be fucking me for favors in front of her family, this really brings it all home.
“You were just letting him talk like that. I’ve never seen you take shit sitting down. And now you’re yelling at me ? What the actual fuck, Lennon?”
She’s pacing, tension pulling every muscle in her body tight as she refuses to look at me. “You don’t get to say that. How long have you even known me?”
“For the better part of a year.”
Lennon stops, facing me fully, green eyes blazing. “Exactly. We ended up in this same position last spring–shouting on a patio because you have some weird obsession with protecting me. I don’t need you to intercede on my behalf, thanks, Noah.” She scoffs, continuing her pacing.
The way my voice rises makes my entire mouth taste bitter. “God, who even are you right now? You’re the one who just announced to your entire family that you were fucking me for favors, and now you’re telling me I shouldn’t have stood up for you?”
She stumbles a step before turning and sitting on the bed. “You’re right.” She leans back, staring at the ceiling. “I feel off balance. I didn’t think this through. It was a mistake bringing you here. You’re not used to this kind of dynamic.”
“A toxic family?” I question, my brows lowering.
Lennon looks forward, her eyes piercing in their intensity. “A fucking relationship, Noah. You’re not used to a relationship.”
Her words are like shards of glass, piercing my heart and drawing up memories I’d long forgotten.
I’d believed Alexis had a point when she confronted me about the time I spent studying–working my way through college–writing a fucking dissertation. She’d claimed her emotional needs had gone unmet–that she didn’t mean to cheat with Hayes. It just happened . I’d be an idiot to not admit that I had a part in our demise. I hadn’t been involved enough.
And maybe now I’m too involved.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this at all.
“Well, you’re really just fucking me for the benefits, right?”
Her face falls. “That’s not–”
“You said it, Lennon. And even if it was because you were angry, or if you truly believe you were lying, there has to be some truth there.” My tone goes cold, like I’ve lost myself in this mess. I’ve gotten too close to Lennon. There’s not a soul that could hurt me the way that she could in this moment, and it fucking terrifies me.
“I didn’t mean any of that.”
“Then what did you mean, exactly? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one who asked me to make out with you on a whim. It’s not a far jump to believe that this was all just some sort of game to you.” My fists clench. “You’re letting your own insecurities justify how you treat others.”
“I–” Lennon stands, taking a step closer. “That’s not true.”
“No, don’t worry. I feel very enlightened.”
“What do you feel enlightened about, Noah?” She folds her arms across her chest, watching me like she’s already won.
The problem with that is I know exactly where it’ll hurt the worst–the reason we are in this mess to begin with. And at this point, I’m too hurt and confused to stop myself. “You’re not doing anything to prove them wrong right now.” She jolts like I’ve hit her, but I don’t stop. “Just because you hate yourself doesn’t mean you get to demolish me in the process. The fact that I would defend you because I care about you, and the first place you go is to fucking admit that I’m just there to serve a purpose in your little bed-and-breakfast project.” My tone bites, the words almost drawing blood by the way her face drains of color. “I was angry for you. That guy is a raging asshole, but I guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, now did it?”
Lennon clears her throat, and my jaw ticks from the way I’m grinding my teeth together–holding back the last thing in my mind–the barb that could unravel this whole thing altogether.
“By all means,” she says, “go on. I assume you think I’m selfish and impulsive, too.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I do think that. Because you are, Lennon. You absolutely fucking are.”
I don’t look back when I leave the room–the house. It isn’t until the sky is dark that I return with Lennon long gone, nowhere to be found. I’m no sure where she went, nor do I take time to think about it.
Without a word, I collect my bags, drive to the nearest hotel, and drop a few hundred bucks for the night before changing my flight to the early morning.
What they say about Lennon might be correct, but as I turn off my phone and fly back to Ohio, I start to think what they say about me is just as true.
I’m not cut out for relationships at all.