Chapter 30 Noelle
THIRTY
NOELLE
The dialysis center smells like disinfectant and burnt coffee.
I couldn’t go on Monday due to work obligations, but today, I’m here to see for myself what my man is going through.
My man. Crazy.
Matt calls it a pit stop, like we’re just pulling off the highway for snacks before heading back into real life, but watching his blood disappear into a machine and come back cleaner feels anything but casual.
I sit beside him in a plastic chair that squeaks when I move, my fingers laced through his.
“Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his eyes half-lidded but alert. “I’m still very charming.”
“I’m not worried about your charm,” I say. “I’m worried about the fact that you’re attached to a robot.”
He smirks. “You’re just jealous. This one gives me all its attention.”
“I’m serious. What if they’re secretly cloning you?”
“Conspiracy theorist, huh?”
“Of the worst kind. In college, I would watch documentaries and then couldn’t sleep, thinking about how the government may have conspired to kill Kennedy. Here. In Texas.”
He throws his head back against the fake leather, laughing. “Did they have any actual evidence? Or was it just people’s opinions?”
“Opinions mostly, but they were convincing. After my doctor’s appointment, let’s go to my house and watch it.”
I snort despite myself, leaning in so my shoulder brushes his. He squeezes my hand, grounding me.
I tell myself this is normal.
This is manageable.
But my heart keeps whispering, This is real and it isn’t normal.
Matt is the picture of health on the outside—a strong body, a six-pack of abs, and his endurance. Well, let’s just say he can go! On the inside, his kidney is failing and wreaking havoc on other parts of his body, like his eyes.
His nurse is about my age, shy but professional. She unhooks him and says to me, “I’m glad he has someone to lean on. Dialysis is hard on the mind. Too much time sitting still.”
“Thanks. Will you be his nurse all the time?”
“Most of the time. We’re on the same schedule. See you next time.”
Matt interrupts. “She won’t be here often. My girlfriend is a sideline reporter and travels for her career.” His eyes brighten and his smile widens. “Now let’s get going before we’re late for your doctor’s appointment.”
His nurse doesn’t pry, and we drive straight to the obstetrician, the same one that delivered Witley.
The doctor asks if Matt is the father, and he looks at me.
I’m almost certain he wants to say yes, but then he shakes his head no.
The nurse draws blood, returning a few minutes later and pointing out something on the screen.
“Noelle, you are eight weeks pregnant. The good news is the nausea usually goes away at twelve to fourteen weeks. Usually.” She goes through a list of things that I should research: how I want to have the baby—by midwife, at the hospital, with or without pain meds, and more. “Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?”
“Yes.” My voice goes up three octaves.
“First, we’ll see if we can capture the fetus on an abdominal ultrasound. If we can’t pick it up, we’ll do a transvaginal one, if you want to.”
I nod as she lays the exam chair back, lifts my shirt, and squirts jelly on my belly. Cold. Matt holds my hand while the doctor checks for a heartbeat. She moves it around until I hear it. My baby’s heartbeat.
“It’s so fast,” I blurt out.
Matt calmly asks, “Is that normal?”
A smile slides onto the doctor’s face. “Very normal. It’s perfect.”
By the time we get to the pizza place, I’m clinging to that truth like a lifeline.
Greyson rented the entire place out for Witley’s first time at a restaurant, which feels both ridiculous and completely on-brand for the O’Ryans.
The neon sign glows in the windows, and inside it’s loud, warm, and chaotic—exactly what I expect when this many people who share blood and volume gather in one place.
Parker flags the waitress down, sitting back with his long legs stretched out, his hands behind his head. “I need something special… cheese,” he says, flashing her a megawatt smile and a wink.
She rolls her eyes, and I admit he’s become quite cocky over the last year. Working out with the Armadillos gave him a little too much swagger. “Special, non-dairy cheese? Chemically altered cheese? Because we are a local pizza joint that carries regular cheese.”
“Just extra.”
“Extra what?” She pops her hip.
“Extra cheese,” he says seriously. “It’s a lifestyle.”
“Got it. Lots of cheese for the cheesy guy.”
J.D. grins from across the table. “The waitress isn’t taking any shit from Parker. I like it.”
Birdie rolls her eyes. “I’m positive that he’s your mini-me.”
“Was. I left that all behind when I met you,” he says, lifting a brow.
I slap Parker on the leg. “Are you flirting with her?”
“God, no. Did you see her? She’s not my type.”
“Because her skirt is too long and you can’t see her vagina? She’s not slutty enough?” This time it’s me who lets my eyes roll back as far as they can go. “Men.”
Matt squeezes my knee under the table. “Don’t lump us all in together. Not fair.”
Then Witt chimes in. “Oh, it’s fair in this family.”
Greyson chimes in. “Not anymore.”
I know that hormones are flooding my body and I’m overly sensitive, but it reminds me of the way Brooks would flirt with me right beside him.
The waitress brings out the first round of food. Sutton sits with Witley tucked against her chest, eyes half-closed but glowing. “These fries are mine. If anyone touches them I’ll… I’ll… Well, I’ll do something. I need some sleep.”
Parker raises his hands. “Your fries are sacred. We know.”
Dad clinks his glass. “I raised you all better than this.”
Matt brushes my knee under the table. I feel him there—steady, warm, grounding me when the noise starts to feel too big. Maybe it’s the baby. Maybe it’s the pizza. Maybe it’s the way Matt looks at me.
“I have something to say,” I blurt.
Everyone goes quiet.
My heart pounds. “Matt and I… we’re together. For real.”
There’s a half second of stunned silence. Then—
“Oh my God,” Birdie squeals.
“I knew it!” Paulina shouts.
J.D. knocks his knuckles against the table, a grin on his face.
Sutton tears up.
Dad chews on his lip.
Witt says nothing.
Parker grabs my hand and says, “Since the dinner, we’ve all known.”
“Well, it wasn’t official then. Now it is.”
Dad finally weighs in. It’s his opinion that matters the most. Dad’s, then Greyson’s. It won’t change my mind if they don’t approve, but I’m afraid it might change Matt’s. He’s loyal like the O’Ryan clan. So, I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
“As long as you’re happy, and I can see that Matt makes you happy.” He stands, comes around the table, kisses me on the head, and shakes Matt’s hand.
Greyson just stares at us. “What about the baby?” he asks, his voice calm but heavy.
The room stills again.
Matt clears his throat. “I have an idea. Noelle and I haven’t talked about it yet.”
My pulse jumps.
“I want Brooks to sign away his parental rights and a non-disclosure agreement,” Matt says. “That way he can’t use the baby or Noelle for publicity. Ever. It protects them. And if… if we ever got married, there’s no risk of legal issues.”
Married? He’s thinking about marriage?
Silence spreads like ripples on the water. Calmly.
Sutton’s hand flies to her mouth.
Birdie’s eyes go wide.
Paulina whispers, “Oh, wow.”
Even Dad looks shaken.
I feel all of it—the love, the fear, the weight of being seen too clearly.
“Okay,” I say too fast. “Let’s go.”
Matt looks at me, startled. “Noelle—”
“I need air,” I say. “Now.”
He stands immediately, because he always does. As we walk out, the noise and warmth fade behind us, but I know one thing with startling clarity.
Whatever this is between us…
It’s not pretend anymore.
And that’s both the best and scariest thing that’s ever happened to me.