3. Chapter 3
Chapter three
NOAH
I can’t seem to focus on anything other than the spot on the wall in my bedroom, the one Ronny made after he decided that it would be a good idea to play darts with pencils.
There’s a little smiley face where he practiced, his lethal aim leaving a piece of himself in my room.
I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone.
Even visiting his house and falling into his mother’s arms, both of us holding each other like the other was going to disappear didn’t make it any easier.
The tears came freely as I clung to her and Sarah.
I kept thinking that I’d hear the creak of the first step and Ronny’s high-pitched laughter before he yelled my name and Ginny told him to use his inside voice.
He’d hop down half the steps and rush over to me with that goofy grin he always wore, hiding the pain beneath. This time, though, when I glanced at the stairs, there was no creak, no noise—just silence. And it hurt so goddamn bad.
I didn’t stay long, not wanting to add to their grief, my guilt eating me alive. It didn’t matter how many times Ginny and Sarah told me that it wasn’t my fault, that I was a gift to him, and that they saw him shine in a way he hadn’t since he had been back from his last deployment.
Their kind words just made me feel worse, like I couldn’t accept it when we still lost him.
And watching them hold each other as I said my goodbyes made me wish I had the same support system.
Sebastian wouldn’t blink twice if I fell into his arms and the longer I thought about it, the more selfish I became. One more night wouldn’t hurt, right?
And now, I’m perched at the edge of my bed, staring at the stupid smiley face on my wall after a fresh shower that did nothing to clear my head. My gaze drifts to the small desk I’ve had since middle school, a present from my late mother after I told her I wanted to be a doctor.
“Well, a doctor needs a desk, doesn’t he?”
It’s well worn now, scuffs along the magnificent wood and it needs a good shine, but it’s the locked drawer at the bottom right that gives me pause.
It’s the one I haven’t opened since I started this new path, a drawer I know carries the poison I’m fighting to stay away from.
Poison that I sometimes think can drown out all the chaos and bring me closer to peace.
I rid my entire life of my demons but still kept one fail safe.
For what reason, I have no idea. I don’t even know where the key is, a temptation just out of reach that I could rig if I was ever so desperate.
It’s a horrid thing to do to myself, especially when I keep a glass just on my desk as if the memory of nights I wasted away with that amber liquid is too much to let go.
Slowly, I walk over to my desk and slide into the chair, wrapping my fingers around the glass and twirling it like I used to. The amber liquid would shine under my dim bedroom lights, a torrential wave that threatened more harm than good.
Laughter rings from the kitchen, Kurt and his buddies taking over the house.
They were here when I got back, cars piled in the driveway as I slipped through the side door and escaped up the stairs.
Hours ago, I would have at least said hi, but I’m not in the mood and there’s no telling who is currently in the kitchen.
Kurt has probably figured out that Heath and I are no longer a thing, if he’s noticed anything at all, my ex’s sleek muscle car not parked by our house like it used to basically live.
He was always here, hanging around until I moved into his place and now that I’m back, it must raise some suspicions.
My nose scrunches up in disgust at the memories still burned in my brain, Heath refusing to let go of me.
I still hate that he’s made it so goddamn hard to part ways.
There’s no good reason for him to keep holding on.
There’s no property or kids involved in this divorce.
We still have our separate monies and I want nothing from him… and yet, he still wants me.
***
“Noah, working late again? I thought you said—”
I stumble into the house, plopping my bag down on the kitchen table with a heavy sigh.
I still don’t understand how we have gotten to this point, the point where Heath has stopped listening to me.
We have fallen apart as I buried myself in my work to avoid the growing issues.
He found comfort in someone else and I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening because I wanted the stability he occasionally provided when I returned home.
“I want a divorce.” I slip off my ring and place it on the table to punctuate my point.
He chuckles. “That’s it? You’re done with me? You didn’t have to take it this far. We’re good together.”
I shake my head, refusing to fall back into that frame of mind.
“No, we’ve never been good, Heath. Your need to degrade me so that you can feel better disregards what I need.
You don’t like my profession or my brother’s.
You shit on our work. You tell me to quit.
You tell me that I would be better off working in a real hospital or an office, but you fail to see how all that hurts me. Even now, you still don’t get it.”
A laugh escapes him as he rounds the table. I step out of reach, a move he locks on. “Noah, you work all the goddamn time. We barely see each other. What else was I supposed to do?”
I bite my lip, trying to calm my raging emotions, but the words slip from my lips anyway.
“Literally anything other than letting me find you balls deep in another man at a restaurant that you invited me to for our anniversary. Did you want me to see you like that? Was that a sign? I still don’t fucking understand why you thought I would be okay with that.
It’s like ever since Kurt left, you’ve enjoyed hacking away at my pride. ”
Another laugh. Heath pushes toward me, thrusting me up against the wall.
His hand wraps around my neck, a move that I am more than familiar with.
“Hacking away at your pride? Noah, when’s the last time you let me fucking touch you?
Huh? The last time you kissed me? The last time you said you loved me? ”
A sob bursts from my throat as I hold onto his wrist, trying to loosen his grip.
“You don’t love me,” I spit. “You love the idea of having someone that looks like me at home, but I’m not going to submit to you.
I won’t sit here and give up everything I’ve fucking worked for because it suits your life, Heath.
” He releases me, and I gasp for air. “We’re done.
Sign the fucking divorce papers when you get them. ”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It will be when I tell the judge just what you get up to when we’re alone, not to mention the three men you’re currently seeing, one of which is a patient of mine. Heath, I want you out of my house, and I need those papers signed.”
He grunts, grabs his coat, and stomps through the front door. “You’ll be groveling at my feet soon enough, Noah.”
***
I’ve never once groveled since we separated.
I still have the damn ring tucked into my desk because he refuses to keep it.
I’ve dropped it off more than once, mailed it back to him and it turns back up at my house every time.
I’ll eventually pawn it off when I get the time and my head isn’t such a mess.
“Not sure why I ever married that stupid fuck,” I mutter to myself as I swirl the empty glass again.
I’m not the same man I was three years ago.
My words are still as sharp but I’m done taking his shit.
However, his advances are slowly wearing me down—not that I want to get back with him, just that I’m tired of constantly fighting him everywhere I turn.
“Hey.”
An undignified grunt leaves me as I look up to see Logan a few inches from me.
He’s just as gorgeous as I remember, royal blue eyes meeting mine.
He’s definitely more ripped, a few inches taller, and the veins rippling down his arms and into his hands have me thinking thoughts I have no business entertaining.
“What are you doing up here?” I finally ask and then soften my tone, looking him over to see if he has wounds I need to look at. “Did you need help? I—”
“No, your brother said to call you for dinner, and I remember you don’t like loud noises.”
My nose scrunches up because very few people know that and it isn’t information that Kurt or I offer up.
One stint overseas and loud sounds send me into a tizzy.
I haven’t had an incident since I came back, but I am always careful, holding myself up in places that I know won’t exacerbate the issue.
Even though we attended the same college, I haven’t spoken to Logan since the morning I woke up in his bed and my brother almost caught us.
“How would you know that? It doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.” I’m really not.
Logan steps forward, crouching before me. “I get it.”
“With all due respect, you don’t.”
His eyes follow mine, trying to read my expression.
I feel like I am going to suffocate, trying to remember to breathe and at the same time trying not to break down in front of this beautiful man.
Strong arms yank me to my feet and pull me into a tight hug.
Instinctively, I bury my head in his chest, fingers gathering at the edge of his shirt by his waist.
“It’s alright to break down, Noah.”
His words are so very sweet and yet so fucking dangerous. “You don’t even know me.” Not anymore.
“And yet I know what it looks like when you lose someone, but giving in is never the answer.” He releases me, caressing the side of my face, a small smile on his lips. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you,” I mutter again.
“As you keep saying. But Noah, we both know that’s a bit of a lie, right?
” He steps closer, his voice a low purr settling in the pit of my stomach.
My nostrils flare as I try to keep my expression neutral, Logan’s gaze dropping to the empty glass in my hand.
“Even if it wasn’t, trust that I’m going to do what’s best for you. ”
My breath catches before a frown takes over my face. “Because I’m Kurt’s little brother?” The words sound so hateful leaving my tongue but I can’t take them back.
Logan barely reacts, slowly dislodging the glass from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine.
“No. Because you’re you. It might have only been a night or two but it’s one I’ve never forgotten, one that constantly replays in my head.
Moments I wish we would repeat. We might not have been here for the past few years but that doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up on a few things.
Like the absence of a certain businessman or the way you keep avoiding my eyes or this. ” He holds up the glass.
I don’t understand what he’s doing or why he cares. I also have no idea how he picked all that up from just the past few hours he’s been back. “I haven’t had a drink in almost a year. It’s just… muscle memory? I don’t know. I just hold the glass sometimes.”
He chuckles, easing my panic. “You shouldn’t be testing yourself.
This isn’t a test that you have to pass.
It’s a journey, and creating obstacles is only going to impede your growth.
I lost my mother to alcohol. I don’t wish that pain on anyone else, watching them fall apart like that, but that pain is so much worse for the person who thinks that alcohol is the solution.
” He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go eat.”
It feels like a weight off my shoulders as he offers me a small smile. I manage to mirror it, despite the pain of everything else and it’s like he can see straight through me but he doesn’t ask. Logan tilts his head, a knowing look in his eyes as he caresses my cheek, his thumb running across it.
My lids flutter shut from the much needed warmth and I nearly lean into it before I remember just who is touching me.
“Let’s go,” I murmur, repeating his words.
I push past him, head tucked, cheeks heated as I take the steps by two.
I’m chalking up all these confusing feelings to the chaos in my head.
That’s all it is.
Because if Kurt ever found out…
But there’s nothing for him to find out so it’s fine.
It’s not fine.