29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Now
“ T hat’s it. I’m officially moving to Hawaii.” I use a toothpick to get a piece of roasted pork unstuck from one of my teeth. “Seriously, wasn’t that the best food you’ve ever had?”
Noah shakes his head, and a small smile plays at the corners of his lips. “I love that you do that.”
“Do what?” I drop the toothpick on the table, suddenly reminded of exactly how unsexy picking one’s teeth is.
“You’re always saying things like that. Like, ‘This is the best food I’ve ever had!’ Or ‘That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!’ I love that you always enjoy things so much, and you’re not afraid to let people know. It’s like, if life exists between the numbers one through ten, you live your life on eleven all the time, and I love that.”
I instantly blush. To have him notice something like this about me makes me feel vulnerable and unsteady. Especially because it’s something I’ve been made fun of for my entire life.
“I’ve been told I’m too much because I do that. I’ve had so many people tell me to stop over-exaggerating everything. But I promise, I’m not over-exaggerating, I swear. I just genuinely really enjoy the thing I’m doing. I guess, I’m just easy to please.” I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of my drink.
“Are you?” I barely hear what he’s said, but the way he looks at me as he says it makes me understand what he’s implying. I feel my core heat, and I look away, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
“Oh, most definitely.” I motion up to the dancers on the stage. “See, that is without a doubt, the best hula dancing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
He laughs. “Oh, yeah? How much hula dancing have you seen, Robins?”
“Just this. But man, isn’t it stunning?” I pause for a beat and really watch. The beauty and reverence the dancers portray is otherworldly.
I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, and a tear slides down my face.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, totally. I do this a lot too.” I bring my hands up to my face, framing my tears. “I cry too easily. Which is totally the opposite of the hard perfectionist attorney stereotype I try so hard to maintain.”
He passes me his napkin, and I dab my cheeks. “Can I ask what made you sad?” I can tell he isn’t asking to make fun of me. He’s asking because he cares.
“I just wish I could do something like that.”
“You want to…hula dance?” His adorable, confused look makes yet another appearance.
A small laugh leaves me. “No. Not necessarily hula dance. Just to be able to have the self-confidence to do something like hula dance. You know, to like, trust myself enough to let go a bit and not always have to control everything.”
“Jane.” His tone has suddenly shifted from confused to something stronger and more commanding. I’m scared at what he’s going to say next. “You’re unbelievable.” I feel my brows knit together. I’m not sure where this is going. “You’re a badass corporate attorney who just acquired one of the richest men in the world as a client. You’re brilliant, you’re a stupid hard worker, and you’re pretty damn funny when you want to be.” The way he’s looking at me makes me feel exposed.
I don’t know what to say. “I…um…thanks, Noah.”
He nods, but I can tell he’s nervous. He brings his hand up to his jaw and rubs the dark stubble that’s grown longer since the first day we got here. “I get it though. I totally understand what it’s like to feel like people are judging you. It sucks to feel like you never measure up, or like you should be doing more. I feel that all the time.”
“What? Noah, come on, you’re like the most confident person I’ve ever met.”
“Nah. It’s all a show, Robins. We’re not so different, you and me.” He gives a soft smile, but it’s weighted.
“What do you mean? You mean you’re not a perfect guy who really does have everything figured out while the rest of us are drowning in a sea of self-consciousness and anxiety?”
“You’re making fun of me, but really, I feel all those feelings, all the time, and sometimes it’s hard to find my way out.”
I had no idea. I didn’t know he felt like this at all. I always thought he was not only full of self-confidence but was entirely overflowing with it. “I’m not making fun. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. You’ve always acted so self-assured, and I don’t know, cocky even. I always guessed you just thought you were so much better than everyone else all the time.”
He winces. I can tell this hit a nerve. “Yeah. Ouch. It’s the total opposite, actually. I act that way because I’ve always thought it was the only way people would accept me.” He takes a deep breath. “Hell, if they knew the real me, you know, like the me under all of this smart-ass attitude, I’m pretty sure no one would want to talk to me ever again.” He laughs in an attempt at brevity, but I feel the truth in what he just said, deep in my chest. It feels so much safer to show people what we know they can handle of us, instead of the deeper parts that are harder and more difficult.
“Noah, that’s not true.” I reach over and put my hand on top of his. The physical touch instantly sends jolts throughout my body.
His eyes. God, those deep brown eyes are mesmerizing, as they search mine for answers. For the truth in what I’m saying. He doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t believe that he’s more than what he thinks about himself.
“You’re…you’re incredible.” I delicately trace my thumb up and down on the top of his hand. “Those things you just said about me, about being smart and hard-working…That’s you. You’re killing it, Noah.”
He looks at me for a bit before raising one brow. “You forgot the part about being funny.”
I lightly slap his hand. “Noah, I’m much funnier than you are.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Eh, agree to disagree, I guess.”
I finish the last of my wine and sit with him in this tense but connected moment. This new tension between us that’s full of honesty, sadness, laughter, and….lust, I think? It’s hard to nail down exactly what it is I’m feeling with all these emotions whirling around me right now.
“Do you want another drink?” Noah motions to my wine glass.
“No. I’m good. One and done for me tonight. What about you, do you want another…wait, do you just have water?”
“Yep. I don’t drink,” he says, smiling at me over the rim of his glass.
“Wait, what?! Like you don’t drink ever? Or just tonight?”
He laughs and sets his glass back down. I try to think of this past week to see if I remember him having anything besides water.
“Ever. I tried it a few times, but it’s—complicated. It’s just something I don’t do.” He shakes his head and brings a shoulder up, trying to make light of it, but I can feel his nervous energy peeking through.
“Oh, that’s totally fine, I’m just shocked I haven’t noticed you not drinking anything this entire week.”
He gives me a smile, but it looks like he’s debating if now is the time to say more.
I return his smile, hoping to convey that I’m right here with him, that I’m here to listen to why it’s complicated. I want him to trust me enough to tell me.
His eyes meet mine for a brief second before he looks back down at the table and clears his throat. “Growing up, my dad had a problem with drinking. When I was a kid, I honestly thought that’s all it was.” He pauses and steadies himself. “Well, turns out, he was actually a complete alcoholic, and eventually, that’s what killed him. He died just a few months after my…our…eighteenth birthday.”
I don’t know what to say. I remember he told me his dad drank, I remember his dad dying before high school graduation, but I didn’t connect the two. I didn’t know that was how he died. “Oh, Noah. I’m so, so sorry.” He fiddles with the straw in his cup. “I know you two had a complicated relationship, but still, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
From the way he looks at me, I don’t know if anyone has ever said these words to him before. “Yeah. It was. It was really hard, but everyone just assumed since my parents were already divorced, and the fact that he lived in Denver, and the rest of us were still in Fort Collins, it didn’t really affect me that much. But it did. It affected my whole family. We completely broke apart after he died.” The dam has cracked, and I can tell he needs to get this out, he needs to keep going.
“My family was awesome when I was little, like everything we wanted to do, we would do together. My brother and I were as close as brothers could be, and my mom and sister were inseparable. It felt like we had the perfect family. My dad was a great dad, until the alcohol took over and everything changed. They got divorced when I was fifteen, and the years following that were really rough. My mom became a shell of herself, and my dad just kept digging himself deeper and deeper.”
He stops playing with the straw and looks at me. “That’s why it was so important for me to get Megan home the night of that party. She was so angry at our parents for what they’d done, and even more, she was so angry at our dad for leaving that she rebelled every chance she could. My mom wouldn’t keep any alcohol in the house, so that night, she and some of her middle school friends came to that party hoping to get wasted. She came specifically to get blackout drunk as some kind of fucked-up middle finger to our parents. I had to get her out of there.” He holds my gaze intently. “I promise, Jane, I wouldn’t have left you if it wasn’t for that.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“I’m just so sorry. There was so much going on, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, seem to figure it all out. I was so hurt that he canceled on me for my birthday that I didn’t even talk to him after that.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “It wasn’t very long after that night that we got a call from my dad’s landlord in Denver saying that he’d passed away. Apparently, he was late on rent, and that’s how they found him. He died alone in some cheap apartment with a bottle of whiskey in his lap.” He looks away, eyes wet.
Tears stream down my face. The pain Noah has been carrying all these years, it’s terrible. I can see it now in his eyes, and in the way he’s finally letting it all pour out.
“Literally, only two weeks after he died, we moved to New York to be closer to my mom’s side of the family. But it was just me, my mom, and Megan. Tyler was in college already, so he just decided to stay in Colorado. He totally wrote us all off.”
Noah moved away. That’s why I never ran into him again. I try to think back to that time, to the end of senior year. “Tyler and Jordyn broke up right before your dad died. She said she tried to reach out after we heard the news, but Tyler didn’t respond to any of her calls.”
He nods, like he already knew that. “Yeah, doesn’t surprise me. He didn’t respond to anyone's calls. Our mom was distraught. She had just lost her ex-husband and father of her children, and then her son wouldn’t even talk to her. He didn’t even care that our mom was hurting. He didn’t care that she wouldn’t get out of bed and was basically disappearing.” Tears pool at the bottom of his eyes now. “So, that left me. I was put in charge of taking care of our little sister who essentially just lost both of her parents and a brother. It was awful. Our mom really struggled. I tried, but nothing ever helped. Eventually, she passed away three years after my dad.”
“I’m…I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay now.” He blinks away the tears. “It was hard, but we’ve made it through. That’s why Tyler and my relationship is the way it is. That’s the hardest part about all of this actually.”
“What about Megan? How is she?”
“She’s great, you’d love her. She lived with me through college, and then moved into her own apartment just a few blocks down from me once she graduated. She’s so freaking smart. She just got married a few months ago to an awesome guy, and they’re actually planning to start a family soon.”
“Sounds like you did a great job then.” I smile at him, hoping that he understands how true that statement really is.
“Nah, it was all her. She’s just a really good kid. Well, woman, I guess. It’s weird to think of her as married, let alone as a mom.” He laughs. “She’s going to be good at it though, I can tell. Tyler’s a good dad too. It’s like they were made for it, which is funny, because they definitely didn’t learn that from our parents.”
“What about you, Noah? Do you ever want a family?” This question makes me nervous. I don’t know what I’m hoping his answer is.
“I love kids…but if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. I would love nothing more than to have kids of my own, but what if I don’t do it right?” A line of worry appears between his brows. “I don’t want to be anything like my dad. It terrifies me.”
“Noah, you just told me yourself that Megan is an amazing woman, and that’s all thanks to you. You fought for her. You saved her. That’s the kind of dad you’d be.”
“Yeah. I don’t know.” He looks up at the sky and takes a breath. “I really would love to be a dad someday, to have my own family.” I see his mouth curve into the beginnings of a smile, and I can’t help but smile myself. “You know, I hold a firm belief that there’s nothing funnier in this world than a four-year-old who’s had too much sugar.”
I let out a chuckle. I can imagine him playing soccer with his nephews and play-wrestling them while they try to wiggle free. I can picture him as a dad, brushing his kid’s teeth, or reading them bedtime stories. I can see the love that he has. It’s in his eyes, in the way he smiles, the way he laughs. This man in front of me is full of it.
“Wanna head down to the water for a bit?” He asks, standing up from his chair.
“I’d love to.”