31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Now
T he only thing pulling me out of my dream is the weight of his arm draped softly on my stomach. It’s still dark in the room when I open my eyes, so I know it’s not quite morning yet. I sit in this moment, replaying the night in my head. Every touch, every kiss, every heavy breath.
I slowly turn my head to the side and wonder just how we got to this point. How on earth did I end up in bed with this truly amazing man?
I take my time as I study his long, dark lashes. The way they curl slightly at the edges, framing his beautifully intense eyes. I watch as his chest moves up and down in slow rhythmic time, in and out. In and out.
Noah Riley isn’t like any other man I’ve ever known. He’s so much more than anything I could have ever imagined. He just gave everything to me, and he doesn’t even know it.
He’s the first person who’s ever made me feel seen and important. He listened to me as I revealed just how much of a mess I can be, and he didn’t judge me for it.
The best part is that he treats everyone like that. I’ve witnessed countless times over the last few days when he’s made everyone around him feel like he’s only there to spend time with them. Every room that he walks in is just another room for him to meet a new friend, for him to make someone laugh; for him to help someone out.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s the man of my dreams, and…he deserves so much more than me.
My chin starts trembling, and tears quickly blur my vision. What am I doing? Why did I do this? I shouldn’t be here. I slowly lift his arm from my stomach and carefully remove myself from underneath. I gently lay his arm down on the bed where my body just was.
The room is spinning. I stood up too fast and all the blood rushed to my feet. I should sit back down, but I don’t want to wake him up.
Tears begin to fall heavy from my eyes as I feverishly search in the dark room for my clothes.
I get dressed as quietly as I can. I find my shoes and slip them on, but I can’t find my phone anywhere. Shit. Where is it? I think back to the last place I had it; I took it with me to the bathroom to check the time after we went for a second round. It hope I left it by the sink. I tiptoe my way to the bathroom and silently close the door behind me.
Not even bothering to turn on the light, I feel around to where I know the sink to be. My fingers are desperately searching for anything familiar, when I feel the grippy silicone case and quickly clutch it to my chest.
My breathing becomes faster and faster and silent sobs take over my body. What the fuck was I thinking? How could I have messed up so bad?
I sink to the bathroom floor and try my best to bite back the sobs, not wanting to chance waking Noah. Noah . The man who just gave so much of himself to me. The man who has walked into my life, twice now, and both times has left me feeling raw. The first time, raw with abandonment and shame, but this time, I’m left raw from change. From forgiveness and surrender.
I shake my head. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. There’s too much uncertainty. I don’t like uncertainty. I don’t like when I can’t control the outcome. I like facts. I like things that I can look at and have a clear picture of how it will end up. This isn’t like that at all.
I want to escape all of this unknowing fear that’s in front of me.
Heartbreak.
What if he hurts me again? What if I hurt him? There are too many bad things that could happen. There are too many unknowns. I can’t do this.
Wait, just a few days ago, I said that I wasn’t going to do this anymore. I told myself that I wasn’t going to let myself shove hard things aside. I said I would deal with them head on but right now, I can’t do that. I’m too scared.
Noah opened up things in me and now what am I supposed to do? How do I put it all back? How do I stop feeling like I’ve made all the wrong choices in my life, and that I’m not who I’m supposed to be. Am I in the right career? Am I a good friend? Am I a good person? Am I ready to be the woman that he already thinks I am?
My breathing becomes shallow and quick. I suddenly feel like I can’t get enough air, and my chest feels like it’s being crushed from the inside out. I’m having a heart attack. I’m going to die.
I close my eyes and touch my clammy hand to the cold tile floor, attempting to ground myself. I remember my therapist saying that when we’re having a panic attack, it feels like we’re dying, it feels like we’re floating away, but we’re not. We have to try to re-ground ourselves back to our surroundings. To bring our thoughts ‘back to earth,’ so to speak.
Letting my phone slip into my lap, I place my other hand on the tile as well. I take a shaky breath in, try to hold it, and let it out. I try again and again until I feel like I’ve overcome the worst of it.
My breathing finally slows, and I open my eyes to the pitch black bathroom.
I need to go home.
I need to get out of this fantasy place and back to reality. This little thing with Noah can all just be forgotten. I can move on. I have to move on.
I know he’ll be able to move on. Of course he will, and he should. He needs a woman who can give him everything that he deserves; a woman who knows who she is and knows what she wants. That woman is not me. I will never be enough for him.
We don’t work together. We’re way too similar. We both like to argue too much. Besides, he lives in an entirely different state, and long-distance things never work out.
I need to go home .
I’ll go to the partners and tell them that I have to get off of the Dumont account. He can have it. He deserves it. I’ll work hard, and I know I’ll get on another account. I just need things to go back to how they were before all of this.
Running my fingers through my hair, I wipe away my tears with the loose fabric of my dress. I’ll figure out all this dating and relationship stuff later. It’s fine. It’s just not in the cards for me right now. Maybe it never will be, I don’t know. I just know that at this moment, I need to get home.
My phone screen is so bright that it hurts my eyes. I open my emails and find the one with my trip itinerary. I try a few different airlines, but I’m finally able to change my flight home to the earliest one available. I have three hours to get to the airport.
I turn my phone back off, and the darkness of the room seems so much darker now. I stand up slowly and quietly open the bathroom door.
There’s a part of me dangerously hoping that Noah is awake and stops me from leaving, but he’s not.
The soft silver light of the moon is illuminating the room just enough for me to see that he’s still in the same position as before. With his arm outstretched, thinking I’m still beside him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, then softly close the door behind me.