Chapter Twenty-eight
“Gimme another one, Scotty,” I push the empty shot glass toward him, my head a little woozy from the bottom-shelf tequila the old man has been pouring for me.
“Not so sure that’s a good idea, Miss Sidney,” he winces. “How about some water?”
“How am I meant to drown my sorrows in water?”
“What about a shoulder to cry on then?” He offers instead, “I hear crying can be therapeutic.”
“I don’t cry in public,” I dump my head in my hand and let out a heavy sigh.
I couldn’t go home. It would be too empty, and with the swirling grief tightening in my chest, the last thing I need is silence and vacant rooms. I wanted to go to Noah’s, curl up in his bed and cling onto the embers of us, but I needed a minute to think without him clouding my judgement.
Part of me is wondering if I overreacted.
But then the hurt is sitting heavily in my stomach.
Scotty lets out a frustrated breath, “Come on sugar, gimme something.”
“It was me.” Noah’s voice has awareness shooting straight through me. I didn’t even hear the door go, let alone sense his presence, which is insane since I have been so in tune with this man for near on twenty years.
Must be the tequila.
“Well, what did you do?” Scotty puts his hands on his hips, his white mustache twitching as he glares at Noah.
I always knew I was his favorite. It almost makes me want to spin around and stick my tongue out at him.
“I fucked up. I finally got the girl, and I fucked it all up because I’m a selfish prick who was so damn scared of losing the only woman he has ever loved he went and betrayed her trust and put her happiness at risk.”
My spine straightens, and my shoulders go tight. I don’t want to listen to this right now.
“Did you follow me?” I turn to look at the man who has my heart in a vice grip, trying for a glare, but I know it falls flat.
I wobble a little on the stool, almost toppling off—Tequila: 1, Sidney: 0—and Noah lunges forward, but I have enough wits about me that I manage to catch myself and avoid his touch. If he touches me, I’ll give in.
“Nope, just didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment. This was the only other place I could go.”
“Well, you messed up, boy,” Scotty grumbles, “Want me to ban him, Sid? Add him to the wall of shame?
I glance at the pin board mounted behind the bar with several darts sticking out of it.
There’s a handful of pictures on it of all the customers that Scotty has kicked out and banned from ever entering again.
I’m not truly sure how often he checks it because at least two of those guys were in here tonight, but I don’t tell Scotty that.
“No,” I place a couple of bills on the bar top to cover my drinks, “I’m going to go home, anyway.”
“You’re leaving?” Noah’s expression is wide open, pain and regret and sorrow all swirling together to create a storm in his gray eyes.
“I need space.”
“I’m sorry, Sidney.”
My shoulders slump. “I know you are, but I’m not ready to accept that yet.”
“At least let me drive you home.”
I shake my head, “I’ll get a cab. Good night, Noah.”
“Sid,” His hand on my arm stops my retreat. “I’m sorry.”
Tears burn behind my lids, and my vision turns watery. “Please, Noah.”
His eyes squeeze closed, and he drops his hand, letting me go.
“You really went and fucked that up, didn’t you, boy?” I hear Scotty reprimand him just before I stumble out the door, the humid air hitting me in the face.
I make it back to my apartment in a daze, stumbling up the stairs.
The tequila is rolling in my stomach, my head too fuzzy to make a full thought.
It’s what I had planned to do. Get black out drunk so I didn’t have to think about all the shit that happened tonight, but now I’m here, all that’s happened is I feel sick and sad.
Once safely inside, I tear my dress off, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of gold fabric and strip out of my underwear at the same time, leaving a trail to the bathroom where I release my hair from its hold and hit the button for a shower.
It doesn’t count if you cry in the shower. Is it water or is it tears? Who knows… not me. The water is still cold when I climb under it, sinking to the floor so it beats against my back when I pull my knees to my chest and rest my cheek against them.
Right now, I can be sad.
I can let the sting hurt, but tomorrow I’ll face it. I’m not sure what that looks like, but I’m sure it’ll be prettier than this.
Morning arrives and I think I’d rather go back to my pity party for one in the shower.
This is why I don’t drink tequila. With a groan, I roll over in bed and hit my phone in hopes it will silence the screech sounding from it.
It does no such thing, and it takes me a few seconds to realize it’s not an alarm going off but my doorbell notification.
“Shit,” I hiss, rolling all the way out the bed and land ungraciously on the floor. No idea who it is, but maybe I planned something with Luce that I forgot about. Grabbing my robe, I secure it and yank the door open.
“Miss Adams?” A young guy asks, holding a takeaway coffee and a brown bag.
“Uh, yes.” I already know this is from Noah.
“Here you go,” he hands it over and I close the door behind him, looking inside the bag.
The usual food is there, but it’s the folded envelope inside that catches my attention.
Placing the bag down, I flip the envelope from back to front, but there is no writing on it, and it isn’t sealed.
Looking inside there’s a folded piece of paper and I can see the shadow of ink through it, immediately recognizing the scrawl even when I can’t see it well.
Taking my coffee to the couch, I pull the blanket off the back and tuck it around myself, slipping the paper from the envelope.
Cricket,
For the past hour, I have been staring at this piece of paper, wondering what to say to you, which is insane when words have never been hard when it comes to talking to you. You make life easy and now there’s a real risk I could lose you and I’m all choked up.
I know sorry will never be good enough. I know I broke your trust. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking—no, scratch that. I’m not going to make excuses here. I am going to give you the honest truth.
When I went on your cell, I had only one thing on my mind and I was jealous.
I had no right to be because you were right.
You have been nothing but supportive of me, and I did not do the same.
I saw myself losing you to him and maybe it was because it was Isaac, or maybe it was something else, but that doesn’t mean what I did was okay.
It wasn’t.
I know that. I knew it then, too. I wanted to come clean with you for months after I did it, but then we happened, and there was finally an us, and I thought that if I did it now that I finally had you, I’d lose you, anyway.
I was a coward and nothing I say, or I do will ever change that.
Watching you walk away from me tonight, seeing you cry because of me—I never want to see that again. I am so damn sorry, Sidney.
I have been in love with you since we were kids. Hell, I was in love with you before I even really understood what the word love meant. It has always been me and you; I never considered an alternative.
Nothing I say will change how I’ve hurt you.
But if you’ll allow it, I would like the chance to make it up to you. To show you what that love looks like, but I’ll understand if you need more time.
Whatever your decision, I will respect it.
And if not today, I hope one day, Cricket.
I once told you I didn’t believe in soulmates, that it was a made-up fantasy to make lonely hearts feel better, but that’s not true, is it?
You and me, Sid, it’s written in the stars.
I know it.
Meet me at the address on the bottom of this page at 2 p.m. and do me a favor: bring your old scrapbook. I know you still have it tucked away in the back of that closet.
I hope to see you.
Love, Noah