Chapter 33 #2
My mother's confession about my father didn't just bring things to light.
It exposed a web of complicity that reached deeper than I could have ever imagined.
London bore the weight of my father's identity because he took the fall for me, but he wasn't the only one carrying that burden.
As mayor, Noah's father knew every sordid detail.
And Noah… Gah, there's no universe where his father kept him in the dark.
Four months of London and me reliving every buried truth, laying our souls bare until nothing remained hidden.
That's how I learned Noah wasn't just a bystander in London's initial rejection of me.
He was the architect. He wasn't just threatening to expose the truth.
He was threatening to take me down. "But would you trade places with her?
" Those words echo in my mind. Noah wasn't just threatening to reveal that my hand delivered the killing blow—he was threatening to put me on trial for my father's death.
But Noah miscalculated. He thought that fear would keep London in line, and the truth would remain hidden, but his lies ran just as deep.
The entire senior class heard him claim he witnessed London's hand wielding the knife.
However, it would only take me a few keystrokes to take him from liar to accessory.
He helped hunt down my father. He helped lure him to Willow Creek.
If he aims a gun at my head, there's a double-barrel shotgun pointed straight back at his.
I always wondered what kept him coming back time and time again.
The soul-deep connection to be anything more than just friends with benefits was never there.
For years, I questioned if he truly felt it, and now I know it was never about love.
His father never pushed harder for him to stay away from me, because keeping me ignorant satisfied his goal of ensuring the Donovan name remained untarnished.
"Can we talk?" Noah asks, placing his hand on my back.
"I don't think she wants to talk to you," Trigg answers for me.
"I have to say I'm surprised to see you occupying the stool beside Laney," Noah subtly pushes back.
"You shouldn't be. I'm a Hale. I thought you would have learned by now…
we don't lose," Trigg says with a challenging undertone.
He may have been fine with entertaining Noah's company before, when he was trying to make his brother jealous in hopes of us getting back together, leaving him as the only Hale heir available for an alliance, but Noah is no longer of use to him.
Still, Trigg will always have his brother's back, even when they don't see eye to eye.
Noah rolls his eyes. "Whatever…seriously, can I have a minute?" he tries again.
"I'm not sure we have anything to talk about," I sigh.
"If you're home after six years, I think we both know that's not true. You learned a truth, and I want to give you mine." His baby-blue eyes hold mine, and I can see his request is genuine.
"Fine, one minute," I confirm before turning to Trigg. "Do you mind giving us a minute alone?"
His eyes dart from me to the man standing on the other side. "Sure, I'll be over by the pinball machine if you need me."
Noah is quiet as he sits in Trigg's vacated seat, confirming my speculations are accurate.
I can practically feel the weight of the truth I know radiating off him in waves.
It's in that silence that I realize I owe him an apology too.
He wouldn't have had to bear the burden of these lies if I hadn't asked him to help me.
"I'm sorry—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"Don't… you have nothing to be sorry for.
Just let me get this out." He takes a deep, cleansing breath before continuing.
"When I left you in Bardstown, I was angry, but not for the reasons I'm sure you've assumed after learning the truth.
I was angry because I felt like I failed you.
You may have asked me to help you look for your dad in high school under the guise of a biology project, but I could have said no.
I could have suggested we choose a different project, but I didn't. Instead, I offered my assistance willingly.
I was hoping to steal more of your time by helping you look for your dad because I liked you.
I never could have predicted how that one, yes, would irrevocably change our paths.
The night everything went down outside the ice cream shop, I lied…
yes, part of me saw it as a way to win a game I had no shot at winning otherwise, but over time, that changed.
It was no longer about winning. It was about being a reason to make you smile…
" he pauses and taps his thumb on the bar.
"Laney, I felt terrible for my role in helping you bring that monster into your life.
For the past six years, I wanted to be the man to make it right, to correct a wrong.
I wanted to make you happy. I would have done anything to make those picture-perfect moments last; the way you smiled for a camera broke me because I couldn't make it last. I didn't understand that I would never be able to give you that until I found the strength to leave.
Coming back home, I figured out that the only way to keep that smile on your face was to give you back the other piece of your heart.
The piece that I tried to own but never could because it was never yours to give. It already belonged to him."
Wow, that was not the confession that I saw coming. I expected anger and resentment, perhaps even a hint of entitlement. Hell, I was holding my breath for a threat. I didn't expect the guilt. What kind of friend does that make me ?
"It wasn't all bad, Noah. I just wasn't in love with you. You did make me happy. Your friendship was a pillar of strength through some of my darkest times, and I will forever be grateful that you stood by me for taking on that role and helping me, even though it was hurting you."
The silence that follows feels different, heavier, but cleaner somehow, like we've finally laid our ghosts to rest.
"How are you doing with everything now that you know the truth?" he asks on a long exhale, cutting through the lingering tension.
"The truth is a bitch. I'm not gonna lie.
It hurt. It cut deep. It's definitely gonna leave a scar, but I feel like nothing is holding me back anymore.
I feel like the choices I make from here on out are mine.
They're fully informed, and knowing I've left no stone unturned is empowering.
There are no more secrets to haunt me. No more unknowns about that part of me. "
I slurp down the last few drops of my daiquiri. "What about you? How has running your father's businesses been going?"
"Honestly, it sucks. I don't want to do it. I don't want to be his gopher or ride his coattails. I just want to do what I want to do," he says firmly, like he's saying it out loud for the first time.
"And what does Noah Donovan want to do?" I ask, licking the remnants of whipped cream off my straw.
"Fuck if I know. I'm still trying to figure it out." He hops off the stool beside me and rounds the bar. "However, for tonight, I am the bartender. Can I get you another?"
"Wait, this bar is a Donovan establishment? How come your name isn't on the front like it is on every other store in town?" I ask with a teasing tone that makes us both laugh out loud at the absurdity, and it feels good. It feels like the old us, the us before the night that changed everything.
"Yeah, I think he drew the line at putting his name on a place that sold liquor while holding a seat in public office," he says with a playful, wry smile that hints at the distaste.
"That's probably a solid call." I laugh as he slides me another strawberry daiquiri. This time, it's not a virgin. Before I have time to slide it back and think of something to say, someone else is doing it for me.
London snatches the glass from my hand and takes a long drink. His face morphs as he tastes it. "This has alcohol in it." His dark eyes find mine in horror.
He tosses the drink into the sink behind the bar, the glass shattering on impact, drawing the attention of everyone seated nearby.
"What the fuck is your problem, Hale?" Noah bellows from behind the bar, his face flushed with fury.
London turns around, his body tense. "My problem is you.
It's always been with you." His voice is low and threatening.
"You're always trying to take what's not yours, but you're not gonna take her this time.
She's mine. It's my fucking baby she's carrying, not yours.
" The words come out harsh and angry, his neck muscles tight as he clenches his fists.
"London, oh my God, you're making a scene," I hiss, feeling embarrassed.
"No, you're doing that by entertaining a date with Donovan. It hasn't even been a week since I asked you to be my wife... In case you forgot, you said yes." His voice wavers slightly on the last words.
My eyes widen as anger renders me speechless. "I'm here with your brother." I gesture to Trigg, who appears beside us, placing his hand on London's shoulder.
London's expression shifts as he realizes his mistake.
His lips press together, and his left eye twitches as the error in judgment hits him.
We haven't talked since I came home, and it's killing him.
It's killing me too, but I needed time. I'm trying to work through everything I feel.
Everything that's happened. He took six years. I can take a few days.
"I'm not doing this with you here," I say firmly, getting off my stool and grabbing my purse. "Let me know what I owe for the drink and broken glass," I tell Noah before heading toward the exit.
"Laney, don't walk away from me," London calls after me, his voice more pleading now, but I'm already halfway across the bar.
How dare he? How dare he fucking assume the worst of me when I've done nothing but attempt to navigate this impossible situation he put us in.
I gave him my heart, not once but twice.
Coming home, I thought there was a chance I might get it back, but now I don't even know if I want it at all because I'm starting to question its true colors.
He embarrassed me back there, made me mad as hell, but as I exit onto the sidewalk, all I can think about is the traitorous part of me that felt a sick thrill when he called me his.
When he claimed our baby with such fierce possession. God help me.
"You're just going to run? You're not going to stay and work this out?"
I whip around, fury crackling through every nerve. The audacity of him calling me a runner. He wrote the damn book. I'm just stealing a page.
"No, that's your specialty," I bite out, my lip trembling as emotions shred me.
"You perfected it six years ago when you vanished without a word, and you mastered it again when you strolled out of your room half-naked, letting me drown in assumptions while you knew the truth.
This isn't running. This is you not giving me a reason to stay. "
The words hang between us, each one cutting deeper than the last. I finally let my eyes connect with his.
I'm not trying to hurt him. I don't want to hurt him, but I don't know what to do with all this pain.
He fucking hurt me. "So don't you dare stand there and call it running when you taught me how to walk away. "
I turn on my heel before he can see my tears. I thought I was strong, but I'm not. I'm not strong enough to survive him.