Chapter 4 Noah #2
After that, everything blurred—police, hospitals, lawyers.
Packing up her house while my mom cried in the next room.
Signing papers I didn’t understand. Telling a five-year-old that his mom wasn’t coming home.
I wanted to reach out to Em so many times it hurt, but what was I supposed to say?
Hey, remember that perfect night? Sorry I never called.
So I told myself I’d wait until my life wasn’t so heavy. Until I could breathe again. Except it never stopped being hard and consuming.
And now she was here. The same laugh, the familiar curve of her mouth when she focused.
She looked up, caught me staring, and the recognition hit her too.
A flicker of warmth, then a professional smile, the kind you gave someone who used to matter.
That gutted me. She lifted her chin in a small hello. Polite. Distant.
She did it. She shot her shot, and she was here, now, with a team. I was so proud of her my chest swelled and words escaped me.
I opened my mouth, ready to say something—anything—but a coach called my name from behind the bench, snapping the moment clean in half. I gave her a short nod—because what else was there to do—and turned toward the field.
By the end of run-through, sweat dripped into my eyes, my arms burned, and my mind was still anywhere but here. Booth yelled one last cadence, we broke the huddle, and I bent at the waist, helmet hanging from my fingers while I tried to catch my breath.
Practice ended with the usual noise—guys smacking pads, laughing, swapping plans for dinner. I gave a few tired fist bumps and peeled away toward the tunnel. Ivy waved me down halfway, a small smile tugging at her face.
“Your kid’s a hit,” she said, handing me a juice box. “He made friends with the kicker and convinced the mascot to dance with him.”
I snorted. “Sounds about right.” That was the thing about Miles. He was resilient. Despite the tears and unending questions, he still found joy. He smiled, and that was my entire goal.
“He’s in the family section. Go rescue him before he starts interviewing reporters.” Ivy held out a fist, and I bumped it, grateful that I had a family at the team to help me.
I thanked her and started the walk up the ramp, the roar of the crowd thinning to a hum. My body ached in that good way, but my chest still felt wrong—tight, unsettled. Seeing Em here messed with me. Reminded me of life before. There was a time before Nat died and after.
Miles spotted me first. He ran down the stairs in his too-big jersey, waving both arms. “Uncle Noah! Uncle Noah! Guess what? Guess what I did?”
“Hey, champ,” I said, scooping him up. “You behave for Ivy?”
“She said I could have two granola bars if I sat still. I had three.” He grinned, one of his big teeth missing.
No one prepared me for how damn hard it was to sneak into a child’s room and slide money under their pillow, especially when this child set about ten booby traps to catch her.
He was hysterical, and Nat wasn’t here for it.
I swallowed down the pain and grinned.
“That’s our little overachiever.” I smiled and ruffled his hair. “You ready to head home?”
Home was now a three-bedroom condo on the north side. Closer to his school, closer to where Nat had lived. That was a whole ordeal too, moving and ensuring things were as similar for Miles as before.
He nodded, resting his head on my shoulder.
His little hand fisted the fabric of my undershirt.
Every time he did that, I was struck by how small he still was.
We cut through the corridor that led to the players’ lot, my mind going over everything we had to do.
Researching nannies, overnight services, or a traveling nanny for games, then meeting with my lawyer about my parents.
They were contesting the will and demanding Miles live with them.
Instead of grieving for Nat, they wanted to fight me, and now I wasn’t sure if Miles would be safe staying with them.
I didn’t trust them to give him back to me, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
The throb in my temple returned, and I pinched my eyebrow, willing it to settle.
I was halfway to the exit when I saw Em again.
She stood near the double doors, laughing at something Ivy and Sloane said. God, she looked so happy, and that made my lips curve up. She’d been so open and vulnerable that night, sharing her fears and wants with me. My jaw flexed as a million what-ifs went through my mind.
I stopped walking before my brain caught up.
Ivy noticed me first. “Hey, Abbott,” she said, like it was the most casual thing in the world. “You remember Em Sanders, right? Went to Central State but was a little younger than us.”
Em’s head lifted, eyes finding mine with surprise. She smiled softly. “Hey, stranger.”
I shifted Miles higher on my hip. “Hey.” My voice came out rough. “Didn’t know you were working with the team now.”
She tilted her head, her gaze moving toward Miles as her eyes lit up. “Yeah. Partially your fault for that. When I reached out to Ivy, she made it happen.”
“Best decision I’ve made all summer,” Ivy said, stepping away. “I’ll let you two catch up.” She high-fived Miles, as did Sloane, and they disappeared through the double doors.
Silence pressed in around us, the kind that felt too heavy to fill with small talk.
“So…” Em nodded toward Miles, her blue eyes curious. “Is this the famous nephew? The more famous Abbott?”
“This is Miles,” I said. “Miles, this is Em.”
He peeked up from where he’d been hiding his face against my shoulder. “Hi.”
Em’s whole face softened. “Hi, buddy. You look sharp in that jersey.”
He grinned shyly and hid again.
I smiled, rubbing his back. “He’s tired. Long day hanging out here. We also just moved and are trying to find schools. His routine is off,” I rambled, scolding myself for sounding so lame. My face heated as I cleared my throat, but Em didn’t seem to care.
Em laughed quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I heard about your sister, Noah, and I’m so sorry. You’re a good man,” she said, jutting her chin toward Miles.
I nodded, throat tight. There wasn’t much to say to that. I swallowed hard and forced a small smile. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t know if I should reach out,” she said. “After… well, after that night. I wanted to, but—”
“I get it.” I waved my free hand in the air, wanting this conversation to stop.
My stomach squirmed, and I wanted to pull her into a hug, breathe in her coffee and vanilla perfume and go back to that night, to the pier.
To want go back to my life felt so selfish when Miles needed me.
And whenever I wished for before, guilt ate at me and made me feel like the world’s worst person.
I’d been to Dr. Mercer’s sessions weekly to deal with these feelings, but therapy wasn’t helping.
“Really happy for you, Em. Glad to see you’re with the team. ”
She blinked, put off by my direct tone. My voice was too sharp, and I couldn’t stop it. “Thank you. For p-pushing me to email her.”
Shit. Her stutter. I closed my eyes, hating myself for making her nervous just as Miles whined against my shoulder. “I’m hungry. Can we go home?”
“I’ll leave you guys, but Miles, hey, if you ever want your own jersey, let your uncle know. I’ll hook you up.”
“With my name on it?” He lifted his head and looked at her. “That’s cool!”
Em grinned and nodded. “Oh, totally your name on it.”
“Yeah! I want one! Can I, please?”
“I’ll work on it right away.” Em’s smiled didn’t quite reach her eyes, and I wanted to demand a real one. But I had to leave. I was tired. Miles was tired.
“Look—” I said, but she stopped me.
“I’ll see you around, Noah.” Her gaze softened, but something like disappointment washed over her features before she went back through the double doors, leaving me in the parking garage alone. I’d wanted to date her for four years back at school, and the one night I had my chance, I blew it.
Now I wasn’t sure I’d ever get that opportunity again.