Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
AFTER
The background looked the same. Honestly, it was a little disappointing. I liked the quirky bits.
“How’ve you been, Noah?” Samuel asked.
“Good. Great,” I said, resting my chin on my hand. My eyes drifted to the watch on my nightstand—one of the few things I still had to pack.
“I haven’t seen you for a while. Don’t you have a lot to talk about?”
I shrugged. “Well, everything’s been going great.
Band practice is working out. I already know most of their songs, and I even convinced them to add Your Love to the covers.
I’ve got a couple of papers to turn in, but I’m mostly done with my summer courses.
Atty’s got two more weeks of work, then he’s on holiday for a bit before school starts again.
I’m moving on Thursday. Just have to finish packing my room, and then I’m out,” I said, counting off on my fingers. Honestly, it’s been a lot.
He hummed.
“How about you? Everything alright on your end?” I asked, once the silence had stretched too long.
“You know that’s not how therapy works,” he said flatly.
I chuckled. “Yeah, but I’ve kind of run out of stuff to talk about.”
“You canceled our last three sessions.”
“It’s the band, school, Atty… The schedule’s been chaotic.”
“And nothing’s happened in the last month that you might need to work through?”
“Not really.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just waited. Like always. Like he knew something would give if he left enough space for it.
Finally, he said, “Why don’t I put something on the table, and you can tell me if anything comes up.”
“Alrighty,” I chimed.
“Are you going to Seattle?”
I sighed. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Have you asked Atticus about it? Or told him?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “No…”
“How come?”
“It was a shitshow the last time I brought it up. Things have been good lately—I don’t want to screw that up.” My stomach flipped. Fucking Samuel. Everything’s fine.
“Do you want to tell me about that?”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my legs on the bed. “I asked him to go with me, back when we were still together, and he said no.”
The memory hit harder than I expected. My fingers drummed against my thigh, trying to shake off the unease it brought.
“What made you upset about that?”
“I wanted him to go,” I said, sounding more petulant than I meant to.
“Clearly. But what was upsetting about it?”
I picked at the skin beside my nail. What was the point of digging all this up again? It wasn’t a big deal. I’d overreacted, gotten into a huge fight with him, and ended up snorting a couple lines in a bathroom—after months without.
“What made it important to you?”
“It wasn’t,” I said quickly. “It was just a quick visit.”
“But it mattered to you,” he said. “What did it mean?”
I bit my lip.
“Noah…”
“I thought he was there for me,” I muttered, feeling sheepish. Childish, even.
Samuel waited.
“I get why he couldn’t now. But back then, I needed him. And he didn’t want to be there.”
“What’s keeping you from asking again?”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to go to my dad’s birthday party. It’s fucking ridiculous, considering…” I trailed off, sighing. “Plus, my mom. And all her bullshit. I wish I didn’t have to go through it alone, but I also don’t want to ask and hear him say no. Again.”
“What made him say no the first time?”
I rolled my shoulders back and bit the inside of my cheek. I felt like a four-year-old bringing it up. It was a tantrum. Why dwell?
“He’d been skipping classes. His TA told him he had to get his act together or he might lose his scholarship. That was my fault too. I asked him to stay with me all the time, and he was terrible at saying no.”
“Until then,” Samuel pointed out.
I nodded. “Until then. He didn’t tell me all of that either—only when we were fighting—and then I was too upset to backtrack. I wasn’t exactly great at regulating my emotions back then.”
“Exactly, Noah.”
I glanced up at him, baffled. “What?”
“You didn’t know how to handle it then, but you do now. It’s not the same thing. Is Atticus the same man you were dating back then?”
I shook my head instantly. Atty was still very much himself, but no, he wasn’t the same. He was better. Stronger. More confident.
“Is he a better listener?”
“Atty’s always been a great listener.”
“Okay. Then is he better at having an honest conversation? Even a hard one?”
“Yeah, he is,” I said. “He’s been really adamant about having all the uncomfortable conversations we need to make things work.”
“Then I think you can tell him why you want him there. Why it matters to you,” Samuel said.
I shrugged again, eyes drifting to my lap.
“It’s not the same, Noah. Back then, Atticus was your crutch.
You needed him to help you stand, and when he said no, it destabilized you—completely.
But now, you’ve learned how to walk on your own two feet.
And the reason you want him there this time isn’t to hold your weight—it’s to hold your hand.
To support you while you go through something difficult. ”
My eyes prickled slightly. “Because we’re a team.”
“Yes, Noah. And you know that the stakes were higher before. You’re not there right now.”
I nodded slowly.
“And while we’re on that subject,” he added, voice softening.
My eyes drifted back to his. His expression was full of sympathy when he asked, “Have you written the letter I asked you to?”
“I haven’t gotten to it.”
“It might help, Noah. You haven’t given yourself closure.”
I knew that. I wasn’t sure I wanted it. Closure was very…definitive. Like death. Maybe even more so. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“Good.” A loaded pause followed. “Have you told Atticus about your mother?”
He might as well have poured a bucket of ice water down my back.
“No. It hasn’t come up.”
“If he’s going to meet her, don’t you think he should have the full picture?”
Well, yeah. Probably. But it’s not like he’s going to see it firsthand. She never does it in front of people. She hasn’t in a long time, actually. It’s not even that—
“It’s still important, Noah. Don’t invalidate yourself. Your relationship with her—and the way it’s shaped you—is a big part of your story. It’s part of your healing too. We’re past minimizing,” he said, firm but kind.
He was a fucking wizard, this one.
“I’ll think about it,” I answered finally.
“Good. So, how’s the band going?”
That made me smile. “It’s been great,” I said, then launched into a full-hour talk about why it was great and how much it was helping.
I felt like I was finally in the right place at the right time.
The band got me excited. It made me want to get through the day.
And the new house? It had a soundproof studio already set up and waiting.
I couldn’t wait to play every single day—as much as I wanted.
After the session ended, I knew I had to talk to Atty. I couldn’t keep fearing his reaction. This wasn’t the same as before.
I still had to finish packing the rest of my room, but after that, maybe I’d call him. Maybe we’d figure it out.
Or maybe I’d wait a few more days.
Either way, I was going to tell him.
I just had to figure out how to do it without breaking us again.
Stepping into the living room, I took it all in. Boxes stacked and ready. Everything packed. It was weird—I’d never been that attached to this place, but seeing it like this made me feel a little nostalgic. I ran my hand across the kitchen counter before hopping onto it.
I closed my eyes and thought of all the times I’d kissed Atty in this exact spot.
But I didn’t need to cling to those memories anymore.
I had the real thing again. We’d make new ones.
I reached up and ran my thumb over the medallion beneath my shirt.
How was I even supposed to begin explaining her?
The movers came early on Thursday, picked everything up, and by four in the afternoon, everything was at the new house. I had been there, surrounded by boxes, for less than ten minutes, and it already felt more like home than my old place ever did.
Inside, everything was warm and worn in, like it had a soul.
A built-in bookshelf hugged one wall in the living room, waiting to be filled.
The fireplace looked original—painted brick with a soot-stained mantel—and the open floor plan made it easy to drift from room to room without ever feeling alone.
Of course it helped that it wasn’t empty—not of things, but of people.
Ezra had come along for the whole ordeal and was helping Jaz unpack the kitchen.
Atty got there as soon as he was off work and was now upstairs in the gym with Brice, one of the band guys.
Paxton, Jaden, and Colin were in the studio, and I kept bouncing between all of them, handling whatever needed attention.
Out on the patio, Holly was having a glass of wine with Sofia, who, apparently, was Colin’s friend with benefits.
I had a full house. And not a house full of freeloaders looking for free beer and maybe a hit—actual friends who cared about me. It was nice. Chaotic, but nice.
“I’m ordering takeout,” I called into the living room. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow across the space.
“What’s good around here?” Ezra asked, handing Jaz a clean glass.
I scrolled through my phone. “Everything.”
“Then everything,” he replied with a shrug.
“Everything it is.” I smiled.
Atty came out of the gym carrying a couple of empty plastic tubs. He dropped them by the front door and crossed the room to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “We’re almost done. Want me to help with your room?”
I tugged him closer by the arm, and he slipped both of them easily around my shoulders. “In a minute. Help me decide what to order,” I said, handing him my phone.
“Well, that’s the end of it. I’m done for today,” Jaz announced, stretching until her back cracked ominously. She turned to Ezra with a warning glare. “I hope everything stays exactly where we agreed when I get back tomorrow.”