Chapter Twenty-Three Noah #2
For the first time since she walked in, her facade fades. Her shoulders inch inward, and she slumps against the bar top. “I don’t know. I guess I need the distraction. Or maybe . . . maybe I had my suspicions for a while.”
She says that last part quietly, and it makes me want to punch the prick all over again.
“He works a lot, you know? He’s always been like that, so a part of me told myself he’s just dedicated to his job.
Or that his clients were demanding. But I don’t know.
Lately, though, something just felt a little off.
It’s like we were in two different places.
I was right. He was apparently in other women’s beds, and I was .
. . well, I was ready to start a future with him. Maybe even a family one day.”
Her voice breaks when she says family, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, hugging her close.
“I’m so sorry, Iz.”
“Me too. But I guess it’s better to know now than walk down the aisle and find out later. That would’ve been an awfully expensive mistake, and you would know.”
I chuckle lightly. I would know. I had the same feeling that Izzy did before I married Chelsea, but I told myself it was just nerves. I said to myself that we were meant to be, and I was just making a big deal out of nothing.
I was right, though. We wanted different things. She wanted a life of glitz and glamour and parties and keeping up with the Joneses. I just wanted to play hockey and go home to my girl afterward.
Sometimes I wonder how much heartache I would have saved myself if I had listened to my heart back then, but then I guess I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t have that comparison. I wouldn’t know what I had with Chelsea is so vastly different from what I had with Odette.
I wouldn’t know that I am hopelessly in love with the woman.
“You said earlier you weren’t mad about me and Odette. Does that mean you’re happy about it?”
“Uh, yes, because two people I love are in love.”
“Love? You think Odette is in love with me?”
“I know she is. Has been since she was, what, like sixteen?” She laughs.
“God, she was so obsessed with you back then. So much so that I had to tell her that I didn’t want to hear any more about it, I couldn’t stomach it.
I thought maybe she grew out of it, but I guess not.
She was just biding her time, apparently. ”
She’s wrong. Odette couldn’t have loved me all that time. She had so much other stuff going on in her life, like graduating from college and starting her business. She wasn’t thinking about me at all.
“Stop it,” Izzy says.
“Stop what?”
“That.” She points at my face. “Stop thinking you’re not enough.”
“I wasn’t . . .”
But the rest of the denial never comes.
“Look, do you remember when you came back that one offseason when we all went camping?”
“Yeah, that’s what started Mom and Dad on their whole ‘let’s get an RV and travel the country’ thing. Why?”
“Because I knew then that you and Chelsea would get divorced. Or at least I hoped you would.”
“Gosh, thanks for that, Iz.”
“Can you really blame me? You were unhappy as hell.”
I remember that summer. I was unhappy. Even though I told her six times what our plans were with my family, she threw a fit when we loaded up the cars and RV. Then she proceeded to tell me I was doing everything wrong, even though out of the two of us, I was the one who had been camping before.
“I hated that for you, you know,” Izzy says.
“I wanted you with someone who made you laugh and made you smile and understood you. Not someone who nitpicked your every move. Chelsea was . . . fine. But it just never seemed like you were enough for her, something I’ll never understand, because you’re an amazing man, Noah.
But I’m not just saying that because you’re my big brother and I love you to death.
Heck, that’s why you should believe me even more.
I’ve never lied to you about anything. Like remember that one time you wore that hideous tan suit with the hot-pink tie? ”
I chuckle. “Oh, I remember. And the twenty texts you sent me while I was on the ice. Those GIFs you sent were brutal. One message was just a hundred puke emojis, and I’d know because I counted.”
She looks completely unapologetic about it.
“Right. I saved you from ever wearing that ugly thing again. I was the only one who was honest with you, because clearly your tailor wasn’t.
They took your money and ran. But that’s beside the point.
” She waves her hand. “What I’m saying is, I would never lie to you.
I would never sit here and tell you you’re enough when you’re not.
And you are, Noah. You are enough. You’re enough for Odette.
Just because I didn’t get my happily ever after doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get one either.
Talk to her. Tell her how you feel. If she still says no, that’s on her, but at least you won’t live with the regret of never having tried in the first place. ”
She’s right. I do need to talk to Odette and tell her how I feel. It might not turn out how I want it to, but then I couldn’t say I didn’t try.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think she’ll say no.”
“No?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. She might be scared, but I know her. She’s my best friend, after all. The one you’re sleeping with,” she says pointedly.
I shrug, probably not as sorry about it as I should be.
“So you’ll talk to her?”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“And tell her you love her, right? I mean, you do love her, don’t you?”
I chuckle lightly. “Yeah, Izzy. I love her.”
She claps her hands excitedly, and fuck if that doesn’t bring a tear to my eye. She just went through this awful thing yesterday, yet here she is smiling and laughing, and still believing in love.
I’m glad. I don’t want her to sit around miserable like I did for years. I don’t want her to swear off relationships or marriage or getting close to someone just because she’s scared of getting hurt again.
Izzy is stronger than I’ll ever be, and I wish I could be more like my little sister.
I clear my throat, pushing down the emotions that lodge there. “So, any big plans for the day?”
She hits me again. “Too soon, Noah. Too soon.”
I grin into my glass, going to take a drink before remembering too late that it’s empty.
“You know . . .” Izzy says, looking around the cidery that’s half finished for the cocktail hour. Odette spent all day yesterday working on it to ensure it was perfect for today, making a few last-minute changes to the table situation. “You guys did do all this work.”
She doesn’t have to tell me that twice. My back is still killing me from the hours I spent working on the barn, that damn chicken coop, all the weeds I pulled, and the mowing I did.
Not to mention the painting and helping Odette move stuff around in the taproom.
I haven’t been this tired since the end of a hockey season.
“I don’t think we should waste it,” she announces.
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Let’s not waste it. Let’s have a party.”
“A party?” That’s the absolute last thing I thought she would suggest on today of all days. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am very serious. I did not cram planning a wedding into ten weeks for nothing. The whole reason I wanted to get married this year was so Mom and Dad could be there to celebrate with me, and I wouldn’t have to call them back from their big RV road trip.”
Is that why she rushed her wedding? I had no idea. She kept saying it was because of her anniversary, but I always thought there might be another reason. Now I know.
“Mom and Dad are still here. You guys have already done all this work, everything is paid for, and the taproom is already practically ready. We’d just need to finish the barn.
A party makes sense. Besides, I’m a free woman now, and I want to celebrate that.
” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “What do you say, Bubs? Do you want to party?”
Honestly, no, I don’t want to party. I want to find Odette and I want to tell her how I feel. But I also want to give her a little space. Maybe stepping away from this situation will give her a clearer perspective.
Or maybe that’s just me being afraid again.
I huff out a breath. “Oh, what the hell? Let’s party, little sister.”
“Yay!” She shimmies back and forth. “We can invite everyone in town. Throw out the guest list. Anyone who wants to come can come. It might look like a wedding because I wouldn’t want all your and Odette’s hard work to go to waste, but it won’t be.
It’ll be a . . . a . . .” She taps her finger on her chin. “I got it! A liberation celebration!”
I grin. A liberation celebration sounds exactly like what she needs.
But she’s right. This place will still look like a wedding, and it gives me an idea.
“You know how you said I need to tell Odette how I feel?” Izzy nods. “I think I have a few ideas . . .”