Chapter 39 Noah
Noah
Honor barely has time to stand before I’m engulfed in a stream of effusive, fragrant hugs from Astrid, Evelyn and Stacey.
Stacey gives me a huge smacker on the cheek while Honor laughs at me over her shoulder.
Even when they introduce me to Ellery Hart, who I’m pretty star-struck by, I can hardly take my eyes off Honor.
I’ve been biding my time, chatting to Mum and Dad and soaking up the nurses’ excitement—this is a far more glamorous event than their regular evenings off.
But I need to slink back to my flat, lick my wounds, and focus on moving forward.
Very probably over a few glasses of red.
So here I am, checking in with Honor before I go, just like she asked.
It looks like they’ve been hitting the champagne hard.
‘You’re all awfully giggly for a funeral,’ I tell them. ‘I bet Stephanie is having serious FOMO right now.’
‘I’m sure she is,’ Honor says. ‘She’s either loving it, or she’ll spring a leak in the ceiling and put an end to the party if she sees us all having too much fun.’
‘Did you want to have a quick chat?’ I ask her, trying to sound as neutral as possible in front of her sharp-eared friends.
‘Definitely. Excuse me, ladies,’ she tells the other women, who are all still grinning at him, and she leads me off. ‘Over here. Miles gave me a little private annex I can use—he said I might need some quiet time if it all gets too much.’
She locks the door behind us, and we’re alone. It’s hard to register anything else but her. It would be so easy to pull her to me and bury my nose in her hair, but I don’t. I stand awkwardly, stick my free hand in my pocket and sip my champagne.
‘That was a beautiful speech.’
I couldn’t take my eyes off her at the end; it felt like she was trying to tell me something. But I suspect everyone in the audience felt the same way—that’s the power Honor Chapman wields over everyone she touches.
‘Thank you.’ She clamps her lips together, then parts them. ‘Noah. I need to tell you something.’ It comes out in a rush. ‘I told Jackson last night I want a divorce.’
I stare at her like an idiot.
‘I told him I didn’t want to be married to him anymore, and that I wanted a less fucked-up life for me and the kids.’
She’s looking at me expectantly. ‘That’s—that’s good. Good for you. Sounds sensible.’ I glug some champagne.
‘I told him I was in love with you.’
I nearly choke on my champagne.
‘You told Jackson you were in love with me?’ Holy fuck, is he going to beat me up? I won’t stand a chance. He’ll beat me to a bloody pulp.
Hang on. She’s in love with me?
‘Yes. Because I am. But I know this is a lot—I don’t want to presume anything.
I know I’m a pretty fucked-up proposition.
But I couldn’t be with him anymore. I couldn’t pretend, and I miss you.
I miss you so much. Every day. And Mum asked me, right before she died, who I wanted holding my hand when I died, and I realised it’s you; I only want you, and—’
I snap to my senses and grasp that the woman of my dreams is declaring eternal love to me, and that she’s telling me she’s getting out of her marriage for me, and I do the only thing that makes any sense.
I put down my champagne flute and I close the space between us in a second and take her in my arms. And I kiss her.
The feeling when my lips meet hers is indescribable, because I never thought I would get to do this again.
I never thought I’d get to slide my lips against the softness of hers, to rub my thumb along her jaw and thread my fingers through her beautiful, silky hair.
To inhale her. To taste her as my tongue finds hers.
To understand myself and my place in the world this profoundly through the touch of another person.
I can’t get close enough to her. I angle her head with my hand and my tongue dances deeper in her mouth, entangling hers.
She moans softly and her fingers burrow under my shirt collar to stroke my neck.
I tighten my grip on her. It’s unthinkable, now I’m kissing her, that I could ever have lived without this.
Without her. And while my body responds to hers, my soul is soaring with the revelation that this isn’t it. She’s offering me everything.
I break reluctantly away. I have to tell her. I can’t have her thinking for a second this isn’t what I want. ‘I only want you, too. My darling. I’ll take everything you’re offering, all of it.’
Her face radiates the most beautiful smile, and I trace it with my finger before dropping my head to her collarbone. Her dress has some kind of corseted bodice with straps tied in big, gauzy bows. I slip one off and graze my lips along the distance from her neck to her shoulder.
‘You look like a glass of champagne in this dress,’ I murmur. ‘I wish I could take it off you and pour my champagne all over you, and lick it off.’
‘Hardly standard funeral behaviour,’ she says, but her voice is husky.
I like to think it’s the effect of my kisses and my words.
I run my hands over her smooth skin, knocking the second strap out of place.
She’s so beautiful I can’t believe it, her huge, gold-green tiger eyes full of emotion and her mouth red and swollen from my kisses.
‘This isn’t exactly your average funeral.’ I skim my hands over her waist. ‘How did Jackson take the news?’ I brace myself for the answer.
‘He wasn’t thrilled. Understatement. But he recognised he didn’t have a leg to stand on, and it sounds like he and Leila are more serious than I thought, so really, he’s been having his cake and eating it.
Anyway, you’ll be glad to hear he’s promised not to have a go at you. Not tonight, in any case.’
‘Thank fuck.’ This is truly excellent news. Maybe I can slip out a back door and give him the slip before the evening is over.
‘The only thing is, he’s worried I’m rushing into the whole divorce-and-new-lifestyle thing. He thinks I’m acting out of grief, and I shouldn’t be making big decisions right now.’
‘I can see his point.’ I reach back up and cup her face in my hands.
Studying her. Drinking her in. ‘I’d usually agree and advise anyone who’s recently bereaved against making big life changes.
Except I’m horribly biased in this situation, so I’m liable to be very unethical and advise you to throw it all away for me immediately. ’
I nuzzle her neck, and she groans and wraps her arms more tightly around me.
‘Seriously, though.’ I bury my face in her neck. ‘Your husband is right. We should take this slowly, for your sake as well as your kids. And even him, I suppose. Dirty shagger that he is.’
‘Says the guy who seduced a married woman. Does taking it slowly mean not having sex anytime soon?’
I come up for air so quickly I practically head butt her. ‘Christ, no. We should find a hotel room immediately. Like, upstairs. Now. I meant the big stuff, like divorce, going public, that kind of thing.’
As soon as I say it, I grimace. I can’t even imagine the media shit-show this will be for everyone involved.
‘You’re right.’ She nods. ‘We need a plan for all that, and especially when telling the kids. But this evening, I just wanted to get my claws into you and make sure you were still kind of into me.’
‘I’m still very into you. You are not an easy woman to move on from, Honor Chapman. Ever.’ I kiss her gently on her soft, sweet lips and she smiles against my mouth.
‘Excellent news. You can break the news to your mum, then.’