Echoes of Us

Chapter 14

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

AFTER

W e had won the first round at the NCAAs against UC Irvine. It was a big deal, especially since it was Ezra and Colin’s last championship. They threw a celebration party at our apartment, which I was usually against, but they deserved it. We all did. The only downside was Noah. We couldn’t have a team celebration excluding one team member. I had to wrap my head around Noah being in the house and at a party. I couldn’t think of anything I’d like to see less than Noah back in the party mood.

It had been almost a month since the fight at the Penn State match, and I was still trying to keep out of his way. I stopped fighting him and he stopped trying to talk to me. It still hurt like hell seeing him every day, and it hurt even more realizing he was turning into a stranger.

So much had changed about him. The way he dressed, for one. Off the court, he looked put together in a way I had never seen before. I used to see him in ripped jeans and beat-up T-shirts. Now, he mostly wore black shirts and classic jeans. He still wore his gold chain and signet ring, but he had added another simple gold ring on his forefinger, a tiny hoop earring, and a fancier-looking watch. His hair was neatly styled, a touch of rebellion softened into something more sophisticated. I only saw it tousled like he used to wear it after long training sessions or games. I only saw glimpses of his shoulders when he nudged at his sleeves before catching a serve. He no longer pulled his shirt up to dry the sweat on his brow, reserved about showing his body. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of how he had filled out; it was more like he didn’t feel the need to show himself off. I wondered if that had been for my benefit before. He’d always smile after he’d done it, and after we were together, he’d sometimes add a wink. Now, he kept his eyes trained away from mine. Sometimes, I’d think he was watching me, too, but I’d turn, and his eyes would be fixed on something else.

He talked about his classes, about running late or having something due. At the end of practice, he would pull out a set of keys, which I could only guess belonged to a car, as he walked out, chatting.

I had no idea who this Noah was. He smiled like before, his nose wrinkling when he made a joke at his own expense or when something embarrassed him. I only heard him genuinely laughing a couple of times, and it always made my heart ache. He was always talking to someone, moving his hands and widening his eyes to get his point across. I caught him mumbling words to a song or humming a beat several times, but none of the dancing. He still did that thing while he played: knees slightly bent, swaying from side to side, a smile playing on his lips, and his eyes focused. Whenever I saw that, I missed him the most. That intense look he got in his eyes was the same way he used to look at me.

Standing in front of my closet, I gazed down at the little pile of clothes Noah had given me and the white box holding the watch. I had never gotten around to getting rid of those. I grabbed a shirt and closed the closet. It was so sad I could only think about Noah after winning that game. I was so tired of feeling this way. After months of not thinking about him, now it was like I couldn’t shake him off.

I downed a couple of beers in quick succession when people started showing up, trying to take the edge off. I shouldn’t have bothered because by the time he did show up an hour and a half later, I was already on my sixth one, and I had never gotten used to drinking. I had seen him at a couple of parties before, always trying not to look at him and leaving quickly after I had. There was nowhere to run this time, and I couldn’t stop looking. I half expected him to walk in with that gray sleeveless shirt he’d always worn, but he came in with a colorful button-down. He had his sleeves rolled back, and enough of the shirt open to see the top of his chest and collarbone. It was almost modest, considering what he wore before. It was loose on him and not tucked into his jeans. His hair was tousled again, falling over his forehead, barely touching his eyebrow.

It was the best I had ever seen him look. Damn it.

He walked in with David, talking, but I could tell from his smile that he was nervous. He looked around the room until his eyes met mine. His jaw clenched, and he gave me a quick nod before looking away.

“How are you holding up?” Colin asked me.

I turned towards him. We had been talking just now, but Noah had distracted me.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be over him,” I admitted with a sigh. I turned my back on him. “I can’t wait to graduate now. I don’t know what I’m going to do next semester without you guys here,” I said, picking at the label on my beer .

“We’ll miss you, too, Att,” he said, nudging his shoulder with mine.

“Do you think he’ll stay long?”

“He looks about as comfortable as you, so I’m guessing probably not,” he said.

I chuckled. “I hate this. He’s like this other person now, and I want to feel happy for him. I do, but it just makes me feel like he’s living his life, and I’m stuck in this hole I can’t get out of.”

Colin gave me a sympathetic look. “I don’t think he’s over you either, Att. He’s better at pretending than you, but he still looks sad when he looks at you—which is often, like right now,” he said with a smile. He was leaning on the kitchen counter, looking towards the apartment.

“I don’t care.” We both knew it was a lie.

“Maybe you should talk to him, Att,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

“I’m not telling you to get back together with him. I think talking to him will give you the closure you need. You can stop wondering what went wrong and break this idealized Noah you’ve built in your head,” he explained.

“You think I’ve idealized him? Trust me, I know how shitty Noah was to me,” I said and turned sideways towards the apartment. Noah was talking to a couple of guys from the team. “I knew while he was doing it. I just…” I started and stopped. I still loved him despite it.

“I know you just,” Colin said simply. “I still think talking to him could help,” he added with a shrug.

I took a big gulp of my beer, draining its contents without making a face.

“See how far you’ve come along?” He gave my bottle a pointed look.

I looked back at the apartment. A girl was talking to Noah, and I felt a bitter taste that had nothing to do with the beer. She was smiling up at him, flirty, tilting her head and laughing at what he had just said. Noah was smiling back, one hand holding a beer and the other in his jean pocket.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I told Colin. The last thing I needed was to catch Noah making out with a girl in our apartment.

We had a terrace on the second floor, and even though it was crowded, it was infinitely better than being down there witnessing that.

A couple of hours and several Noah sightings later, I headed back downstairs, trying to avoid my drunk teammates.

“King.”

I turned towards David. Thankfully, Noah wasn’t with him. “Yeah?”

“Do you have a lighter?”

“I’ll get you one. If you smoke, could you go upstairs?” I pushed my way through the crowded living room to Colin’s room and opened the door. As I reached for the lighter, I caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye. Noah.

“Hey,” he said, standing next to Colin’s dresser, still holding a beer. His eyes were wide. I had clearly caught him off guard.

“I was getting a lighter.” I held it up for him to see.

“Sorry for barging in. I was just trying to get away for a bit.”

“This isn’t my room,” I replied, my heart stuck in my throat.

“I figured.” He pointed at the pictures on Colin’s dresser. There was one of Colin and his family. “It’s still your apartment.”

I stood there, looking at him for a second too long, clasping the lighter tightly in my hand. “Noah.”

His eyes seemed greener somehow, maybe because of the shirt he was wearing. “Yeah?” he prompted when I failed to say anything .

I took a deep breath. “Do you think we could talk?”

I watched his eyes widen again. “Of course.”

“Give me a minute. I have to hand this to someone.”

I walked out of the room, my mind racing, wondering what I was thinking. There was no way this was a good idea. I knew I was tipsy from the beers, lightheaded, and unsure of what I wanted to achieve.

When I came back, Noah stood near the door.

“Do you want to talk here?”

“No, come on.” I led him to my room.

Noah walked in, looking around. He stopped by my desk, glancing down at the TV with a slight smile.

“I need to get this over with, Noah.”

His eyebrows knitted together, the corners of his lips pulling down.

“I need to…” I started and stopped. I needed to get over him.

“I don’t know if I would have chosen this scenario for this conversation. Have you been drinking?”

“Yes. I don’t think I could do it otherwise,” I admitted. “Have you?” It was a loaded question for us.

“I don’t drink anymore.” He held the bottle, showing me it was mostly full before placing it on my desk. “I just carry it around to avoid an awkward conversation,” he explained.

“Okay.” I leaned back against the door, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can sit if you want to.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

We stood there, the silence thick between us, not quite looking at each other.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk to me in the first place,” I pointed out.

“I know. I just don’t even know where to start. I’ve said it to you many times, but I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

I looked at the floor, feeling the weight of his words. This had been such a bad idea. I knew what I wanted to ask him. I had rehearsed the questions a million times in my head. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to listen to his answers.

“Did you start using again? Was that it?”

“Yeah, a part of it,” he admitted.

“Harold told me you had people over the night before, you know.” I struggled to get the words out.

“Yeah, I did,” he confirmed.

“Did you cheat?” I asked.

He stepped toward me.

“Noah, just stay where you are and answer me,” I instructed, looking up at him.

Noah brows drew together, concerned. “No. I didn’t.”

“Were you using the whole time?” I pressed.

That one hit the nail on the head. His gaze fell from mine, and he shrugged uncomfortably. “Not the whole time, but I did do it. I lied about it too.”

I knew it. I had felt it in my gut, but he had kept denying everything, making me feel crazy for questioning him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You told me you’d break up with me if I did. I was terrified to tell you.” His eyes seemed so earnest, but I couldn’t trust him.

“I said I’d break up with you if you did it again and didn’t get help,” I corrected.

He shook his head.

“Yes, Noah, that’s exactly what I said to you. You could have gotten help. You didn’t have to…” I closed my eyes, attempting to gather my emotions. “You didn’t have to break me like this,” I finished, feeling a heavy weight pressing against my chest.

“I know it doesn’t seem like enough of a reason, but I was scared. That’s the truth. Things between us had gotten so fucked up because of me.”

I met his eyes again .

He took in a deep breath, steadying himself. “Do you remember the last fight we had?”

“In the last game?”

“No, the last fight we had when we were together.”

His words made my stomach churn. Of course, I fucking remembered. Nothing had ever hurt quite as bad. Except finding him gone two days later.

I couldn’t make my throat work, so I nodded instead.

“You said you wished you never met me.” His voice was soft, but it felt like a hit to my heart. This had been such a bad idea.

I exhaled loudly and ran my hands through my hair. “I can’t do this.”

Noah took another couple of steps towards me. “I need you to listen to me, Atty. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I never wanted to do it. I’m not telling you this to make it worse,” he insisted.

His sincerity made me look up. He was standing close enough for me to feel his presence but not close enough to touch.

“You said you wished you never met me,” he repeated, like it was the key to everything when, in fact, solved nothing.

“I didn’t mean that, Noah. I was just mad at you,” I admitted, my heart aching.

“Maybe, but I realized how much I was messing you up, and I hated it. I hated myself. I still do…every time I look at you, I fucking hate myself for what I did and for not just leaving…for everything. I couldn’t control myself around you; I was obsessed with you,” Noah confessed.

“I hate this,” I murmured, shaking my head.

“I was. From the moment I saw you at that party, I was obsessed with you. Then you came to my house and coaxed me out of my nightmare, and it was like throwing gas on a fire. Every day, it just got worse and worse, and I couldn’t breathe if you weren’t with me. I was making you feel the same way. I was making you crazy too,” he continued, his voice pained.

“I was in love with you, Noah. That’s what I was feeling.”

“Atty, you were going through my things, through my phone. Monitoring me all the time to check if I was eating, if I was sleeping enough, and counting my pills. That’s not normal,” he said, and his words cut deep.

All I ever wanted was for him to be okay.

“Because you kept lying to me,” I retorted, feeling the sting of old wounds.

“Exactly. I was making you crazy too. This is my fault, and I did a shitty thing, but I thought I was doing the right thing, because you needed to get away from me. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell you. I was a coward, but I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to do it,” he explained, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I couldn’t quit, and I knew it was going to get worse. It was already so bad, the fights and just everything, it was so bad.”

“You knew what you were doing, Noah. That’s what hurts the most. You knew you were leaving. You could have talked to me. I left for one night, and I came back to a box of my things in the lobby. No explanations. How did you think that felt? I tried calling you, and you fucking blocked me.” My voice rose with anger and hurt.

He looked heartbroken too. “I couldn’t do it,” he whispered.

“You fucking knew, Noah. That’s why you…” I started but couldn’t bring myself to finish. “I thought it was getting better. You made me think it was getting better.” My eyes were burning, but I pushed it down.

“I’m so sorry. You don’t know how much I regret it. I thought I was doing the right thing,” Noah said desperately.

“You’re right; you are a coward.” I rubbed my face in my hands. It was like being in those fights again, only worse because I didn’t have him.

“Atty.” He led my hands down gently.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” I said weakly.

He held onto my wrists, loose enough for me to pull away if I wanted, but still clinging to me. He had stepped closer too.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. And I’m sorry for leaving you like I did and for being a coward. I’m so sorry. I know you won’t forgive me, but I’ll keep saying it.”

It had been so long since he had been this close to me. His hands moved from my wrists, brushing my skin and intertwining his fingers with mine. I inhaled sharply through my nose.

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore. I know you don’t trust me, but I never lied about how I felt about you. That never stopped.”

I gazed into his eyes, feeling their pull, their power over me. I felt like I could melt into them.

“Why did you come back?” It was both a plea and an accusation. Just like all the rest, I didn’t want to know, but I had to ask.

Noah gave me a puzzled look, like he couldn’t believe I was asking him this.

“For you.” His words came easily as he shrugged his shoulders in a hopeless manner.

Even though a part of me felt relieved by his answer, another bigger part just felt conflicted. I hated how he made me feel. I hated this fucking pain in my chest. But it wasn’t just me. He was hurting too. I could see it in those damn eyes.

I closed mine and leaned my forehead against his. A familiar shiver ran through my body at the contact. It was like muscle memory. My body moved on its own, responding to his proximity as it had so many times before. I let go of his hands and grabbed his neck. He arched into the touch, bringing his lips closer to mine. I could feel the electricity of his touch on my back, his hands clinging to my shirt.

“Noah.” I exhaled.

“Yes?”

I felt the word on my lips. I swallowed. “I need you to leave,” I whispered.

Noah’s grip on my shirt tightened before slacking. He moved away from me.

Overcome with the need to pull him back, I slipped my hands to his shoulders. He leaned his face on my chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Please leave, Noah.”

He moved from my grasp and reached for the door behind me, opening it, but I pushed it closed again. My body acting against me again. I looked at him, and he stared at me with his hand still on the door handle. I couldn’t let him go just yet. Not after what he had admitted to. There was still so much between us. If this was closure, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. I had gone so long without him.

I reached for him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. It hurt, feeling him come so easily towards me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pushed upwards, resting his face against my neck. As he breathed out, I could feel the warm gust close to my shirt’s collar. His hair brushed against my face, and I rubbed my cheek against it, inhaling his scent—soap and sandalwood. It was so familiar that it made the pain in my chest swell into a piercing ache. He had changed so much, but he was still Noah.

“I fucking hate you, Noah.” I tightened my grasp.

“I know,” he replied.

“I wish I hadn’t met you,” I whispered to his hair.

He was quiet for a while, and neither of us let go.

He sighed after what felt like hours. “I think you saved my life, Atty. I don’t think I’d be here now if I hadn’t met you. I really wish I hadn’t fucked yours up in the process, but you saved my life, so thank you.”

This conversation was weighing so heavily on me. My chest wouldn’t stop hurting. It turned into little waves of pain. Every time one passed, the next quickly followed. I couldn’t let him go. I needed more before I could let him go.

“Noah, can you stay the night?”

He stayed silent.

“I’m not asking…” I took a deep breath. “It’s just sleeping. I need a little more time,” I said.

He nodded against me, holding me tighter.

“Just don’t be here when I wake up.”

“Whatever you need.”

I unwrapped myself from him.

He looked up at me, his expression open. “Can I use your bathroom real quick?” he asked. He made a beeline towards it after I nodded.

I locked the room door and sat on the bed, burying my face in my hands. What was I doing? The tap opened and closed in the bathroom. The loud music thumped outside, competing with the pounding in my chest.

He stepped out, and our eyes met again. He sat beside me. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, noting the slight upturn of his lips and the faint stubble over his jaw. Was I ever going to stop wanting him this much? I kicked off my shoes and pushed back on the bed. He followed suit, resting his shoulder beside mine.

“If this is too uncomfortable?—”

“This isn’t uncomfortable,” he said quickly before I finished.

I turned on my side to look at him, and he did the same. There wasn’t one thing I didn’t like about his face. I let my eyes roam over it, trying to lock it all in and bury it inside me. Just a little more. He kept looking into my eyes, not moving, waiting. It was so unlike him, another thing that had changed without me. I looked down his jaw to the opening of his shirt, the little gold chain shining in the dimness of the room. I reached my hand to it, and Noah flinched before relaxing into the touch. I let my finger feel its texture, running down its ridges. I was used to feeling it with my lips, the cold metal against the skin of my chest when he leaned down to kiss me. I pressed my palm on his neck, feeling his skin and closing my eyes. I touched my forehead back to his and he exhaled again.

I just needed to lock him in, drink all of this one more time, and then I could let him go. I ran my hand down his back, and he moved closer. It was effortless, as it always had been, bringing us together. He held himself back, still waiting for me, letting me lead whatever was happening.

“You don’t have to do that,” I told him, meeting his eyes again. They moved quickly over mine.

“What?”

“Stay still,” I said.

He exhaled. His hand moved to my waist, hesitating before edging closer. He touched the skin on my arm, his hand moving under my shirt on my shoulder so softly. I wanted to feel his skin too. My hand kept moving downwards on his back until I felt his belt. I pushed his shirt aside and felt his back on the way up. I thought I had his body memorized, his shape implanted in some dark corner of my brain, but he felt different. I was used to Noah’s sharp edges, feeling his bones under his soft skin, and now I felt muscles on his back that hadn’t been there before. I kept tracing their shape with my hand, trying to save all these new things with the old.

Noah’s shoulder raised almost imperceptibly, but there it was, the most obvious sign he had to show me he liked what I was doing. I leaned down, moving my face to the curve of his neck, letting my nose touch him. His chest moved as he inhaled deeply. He moved closer still, his leg moving over mine in a gesture so familiar it made my heart ache again. I rubbed my face on his neck and closed my lips over the juncture where his chain lay. How many times had I felt this against my lips? He made a quiet sound, and I tightened my grasp on his back. I kissed his neck again. One more time.

“I need to let you go, Noah,” I whispered against his warm skin.

“I know.” His voice broke.

I moved away to look at him again. His eyes were red this time, and I could see the slight tremble on his lip before he ran his tongue over it. That, too, was so familiar. He let his tongue slide over his lip, barely peeking out before he bit down and then let it go, leaving it looking wet. I had that memorized. It haunted me, thinking about how much I wanted to chase his tongue into his mouth.

“I know you do,” he said again.

“Please let me let you go,” I asked him.

He closed his eyes, leaning closer and kissing my cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

I touched his cheek and felt it wet against my fingertips. I shut my eyes, trying to curb my emotions.

“I’m so sorry.” He sniffled, trying to be quiet.

“I’m sorry too.” My heart was breaking again. I wrapped my arms around Noah and drew him closer to my chest, almost like I could force him to become a part of me if I tried hard enough. “I really wish I hated you, Noah. You don’t know how much I want to,” I told him and felt his shoulders trembling. “I don’t want to love you anymore,” I breathed.

His hand tightened, holding my shoulder. “It’s okay.” He sniffled again. “You can let me go. It’s okay,” he said, but I heard him trying to quiet the sounds of his crying.

We held each other tightly for a while. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep with him this close, but his warmth lulled me to sleep just like he always had. He didn’t move an inch from me, and I thought I had forgotten how to sleep with this closeness, but when I opened my eyes again, it was quiet, and the sun was peeking through the window.

I looked at the space before me. I was startled by the sound of the bathroom door opening slowly. He was still here. I let my eyelids drop and pretended to be asleep. He approached quietly and waited before leaning down and kissing my cheek.

“I love you, Atty,” he whispered.

My chest twisted painfully.

“Goodbye.” He kissed my cheek softly again before leaving.

I opened my eyes when the door to my room closed. The space before me felt too vast. There was an emptiness in my chest. It felt like it was ripping me apart.

I closed my eyes and turned, giving my back to the void.