Chapter 26 Lily #2
He gives me another long hug and I talk with him and his daughter until they can’t stand the weather anymore. As they walk off, I look back toward Noah.
He stands at the edge of the gravesite, staring down at the wet dark soil.
Max whines and tugs on the leash toward him, so I let it go. He runs over to him, heeling at his side. All I can do is watch. The rain drips from my hair down my back as I bring both hands to the handle of the umbrella, repositioning it.
At Noah’s feet, Max sits, unmoving. His fur is slicked down with rain, his ears drooping, content to be by his side. He doesn’t whine, doesn’t shiver—he’s used to harsher conditions. With the same quiet reverence as Noah, Max stares at the grave, as if he understands this moment.
Noah swallows hard, blinking in the rain, and he reaches down, fingers threading through the fur at Max’s neck. Neither of them move.
Noah crouches down, grabbing a handful of dirt from the pile next to the grave. He allows it to pour from his hand onto the casket, and compelled, I move toward him. When I’m beside him, I do the same, scooping up a wet clump and silently telling Ms. Sullivan goodbye.
Reaching over, I take Noah’s hand, as his shoulders slowly shake, and he buries his chin to his chest. I wish I could take away his pain. Take away the hole that’s opened in his heart.
I squeeze his hand, and he lets me.
Minutes go by, and most of the cars down the hill in the parking lot have gone, with a few stragglers conversing under umbrellas near their cars.
A shiver suddenly crawls up my spine, slow. The cold rain should be the only thing pressing against my skin, but there’s something else, and it settles between my shoulder blades prickling the back of my neck, like a breath too close.
I glimpse over my shoulder, scanning the rows of grave markers and the shadows behind the trees. I don’t find anything, yet the feeling won’t go away. Like there are eyes locked onto me from somewhere beyond what I can see.
My fingers curl tighter around Noah’s, my nails pressing into his palm. It’s just the funeral, the storm, the weight of the unknown with Noah haunting me, right? My pulse thrums a little harder, my breath catching when a large shadow moves from behind a large oak.
It’s nothing.
“Miss me?” The words float through the trees in a restless whisper.
It’s faint—so faint I almost convince myself I made them up.
The words dissolve as soon as they reach my ears, but it’s a ghost of a voice, familiar.
The hairs on my arms prickle underneath my long sleeves and the wind shifts again, causing me to shiver.
For the first time all week, Noah wraps an arm around my middle, pulling me into him. The slinking in the shadows abates and the warmth of his body is soothing, but when I tilt my head to look up at him, he still avoids eye contact.
Will there be anything I can do to help ease his pain? To prove to him he isn’t alone in this.
The ride from the cemetery is unsurprisingly quiet. Noah, completely drenched, forces himself to stare straight ahead while he drives me to the diner.
Max is passed out in the back seat, reeking of wet dog. The stench wrinkles my nose, so I crack my window, hoping the damp breeze airs it out. The movement causes Noah to glance at me. His eyebrows furrowed like he’s sorting something out.
I jump at the connection. “Funeral was beautiful.”
He props his left hand on top of the wheel and slowly nods.
“It really was a great turnout. She was loved by many.” I don’t know if I’m making this worse or saying the wrong thing. I just want to hear his voice, to talk with him. I don’t like this version of Noah—this shut down version, like he’s imploding from within.
“She was.” He sniffs and rubs his chest. “I’m going to head to the house to go through a few things.”
My eyebrows raise and I blink. “Y-you don’t have to do that today, Noah.”
The corner of his lip curls, and he clenches a fist over his thigh. “Yes, I do.”
A few beats of silence shuffles between us where only the patter of rain and Max’s snores fill the void.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Damn it, Lily. I’m sorry. I’m not right in the head right now … I …”
“It’s okay. She wouldn’t want—”
The car cuts sharply, and Noah whips it over to the side of the road near a patch of trees that disappears around a dirt road. The tires skid along the shoulder, kicking gravel as the car jerks to a stop. My body lurches forward. Not hard, but enough to be caught by the seat belt.
Noah’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares unblinking straight ahead. He doesn’t say anything, and I’m not sure I should. Instead, the tick of the engine in time with the rain fills the void.
My hands twist in my lap, like they might anchor me.
“It’s not okay,” he says with an eerie calm.
That sick, sour taste hits the back of my tongue, and I’m suddenly nauseous.
Slowly, I turn to him, and he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, then tightens it, knuckles pale. With a sigh, he shifts in the seat, rolling his shoulder. Not angry—resigned. Sad.
My fears from earlier creep in as the silence stretches between us.
“It’s not okay,” he finally says again. “It’s not okay that I’ve fallen so incredibly hard for you, but—”
And there it is.
He raps his knuckles along the stitched leather of the wheel. “I was supposed to be there. I gave myself that charge. That when the time came, I’d be there for her.” He grits his teeth. “Well, I wasn’t. I failed her and now I’m terrified I’m going to fail you.”
“Fail me? Noah, you’re like the poster boy for a law abiding, rule following model citizen who puts everyone ahead of himself.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t know … I’m not. I’ve already broken so many of my rules—it feels like I’m just going to break another.”
At this point, I’m confused. I allow my brow to furrow. What rules is he talking about?
“What?”
His voice cuts through, low and strained.
“I’ve done things I swore off, things I said I’d never do, and it just so happens you’re the common denominator.
The very first time I met you I didn’t write you a citation for vaping in the park.
Even though I wanted to so bad, especially with my mother on my mind that day.
I moved you from the trail when you had that accident, then followed you to the hospital—not against the rules, but normally I would’ve waited for a Medevac, and perhaps followed up a few days later, but I couldn’t.
I couldn’t sit there with you pale and freezing and not carry you to safety. I couldn’t not see you in the hospital.
“Then there’s that damn diner food. I don’t eat that. Protein, veggies, healthy fats—I balanced those diligently. Now, I eat greasy fries and sandwiches once or twice a week!”
I swallow the thickness in my throat. I didn’t make him do those things. Is he blaming me? But he seems like he has to get this out, so I bite my tongue.
He throws his hands up and they land on his thighs with a SLAP. “Max even broke protocol for you. He’s supposed to be a well-trained weapon, and the boy turns to putty in your hands.”
Max shifts in the back as Noah’s voice grows louder, continuing, “I respect law enforcement. I am law enforcement, but I can’t tell you how many days after the incident on the sidewalk with Paul I had to talk myself out of going to throttle him, and he’s my friend!
“Ever since I was young, while I watched my mom struggle, I told myself I’d follow the rules.
Keep my head down, work hard, protect and serve.
Then you walk into my life—this life force with an all-consuming presence despite you trying to run away from me that first day we met.
I had to bend the rules for you, to know you, and in some twisted, messed up way, now I feel as though all my control is slipping even further. ”
Frustration claws at me like a vise. “So, I screwed you over? Messed up your perfect little Pinebrook life? Everything was wonderful for you before I came into your life.”
Don’t do this. Not now. Not on this day. It’s not about you.
“No, Lily. That’s not what I’m saying.” He wipes his forehead.
“Well, it sure sounds like it.” I pull my seat belt away from my chest and let it snap back against me.
Six months, Lily. No connections. Why the hell did you deviate from that?
“Hell. I feel lost, Lil. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.
It feels heavy. My mom’s the only family I have.
She’s all I’ve known. And she loved you.
” A tear gathers in the corner of his eye, and they prickle behind mine as well.
“I’m angry and sad, but also high on you—I can’t reconcile my emotions right now.
I don’t want to say anything or do anything that’s going to jeopardize us, but I don’t feel worthy of you right now. ”
More tears sting my eyes. He needs time. Can I really blame him for all this emotion bubbling to the surface the day his mother was buried? No. What kind of a person would?
Still … his words feel like a scratchy callous scraping down my back, and though I know I need to be gentle with him, to shoulder some of this burden, I’m feeling like one myself. I don’t want to stay here, show up with all my issues and shackle him to some chaotic life he never wanted.
Thunder echoes in the distance, and the trees thrash, but I eye the door handle, reaching for it, and open the door.
“Wait, Lil. No!”
I fling open the door and cut off anything more he can add to that sentence. There’s no way I can stay in this truck a second longer. The rain assaults me like a wall when I hit the ground, the cold pelting my skin. In only a couple of steps, Noah’s door slams shut, and he yells after me again.
My boots crunch as I stomp toward the tree line, my black dress sticking to body. My heart pounds as I argue with myself.
Stop, you’re acting like a child.
Keeping going, he hurt you.
“Lily!” he calls after me.
I don’t stop.