Chapter 28 #2
“We’ll need cameras,” I said, mostly to myself. “Front and back. Motion lights. Decent locks. I can call the guy who did my place.”
Em turned to look at me, surprise flickering across her face. “You’re already thinking about that?”
“You being safe? Always,” I said simply.
Her gaze softened, her lips curving into a slight smile that was meant for me. She nodded, a slight blush on her cheeks, then looked away.
The rest of the afternoon blurred into movement. Boxes unloaded. Tables assembled. Audrey labeling shelves with a Sharpie. Em floated through it all, energized and overwhelmed, touching walls, pacing distances, stopping to close her eyes and breathe.
At some point, Daniel caught her hands and squeezed them gently. “Hey,” he said. “You did this. Don’t dissociate now.”
She laughed through it, forehead pressing to his shoulder for a second before she straightened. “I’m here. I’m really here.”
I watched them with something tight and warm in my chest. When my phone buzzed with the time, reality nudged back in. Miles.
“I need to grab him,” I said quietly. “I’ll bring him back here after.”
Em nodded immediately, understanding without explanation. “Okay. We’ll—yeah. We’ll be here.”
Miles skipped beside me on the walk back, talking nonstop about trucks and how “Aunt Em’s store” was going to be famous and whether famous people still had to go to bed on time.
I answered when I needed to, nodded when it made sense, but my head stayed eight blocks away.
I felt split down the middle—body moving forward, heart pulling me back.
The apartment felt wrong without her.
Not empty exactly—Miles filled the space with noise, questions, commentary—but hollow in a way that settled into my bones.
The kind of quiet that made you aware of every sound because the one you wanted wasn’t there.
Her laugh. Her humming while she worked.
The way she talked to herself under her breath like she didn’t realize anyone could hear.
I went through the motions once we got inside.
Snack. Shirt change. Hands wiped. Shoes kicked off.
He chattered from the kitchen stool while I cut apples, and I caught myself setting an extra plate out of habit before I realized she wasn’t there to eat with us.
I put it back without comment, jaw tightening like that small thing mattered more than it should.
Oliver’s question rang in my brain. What the fuck was I gonna do after her apartment was ready?
I didn’t want her to leave. I wasn’t sure I could survive it. Between the looming threat of my parents, and Em leaving, I had a cloud over me, and I hated myself for it.
Today was huge, for her. I had to focus on that. I masked my face, something I’d done before on the field, and made a plan.
I didn’t plan the stop at the flower shop on the walk to the store.
My feet turned in, like they’d made the decision before my brain caught up. The bell over the door chimed, and the place smelled green and damp and alive. Miles took the task seriously, eyes scanning every bucket like this was a mission.
“Those,” he said decisively, pointing at a bundle of soft pink blooms. “She likes pink.”
“She does,” I agreed. “Nice find, buddy.”
By the time we pulled back up to the storefront, the day had shifted.
The harsh brightness from earlier had softened into something warmer, the light slanting through the windows instead of crashing in.
Em stood near the front, hair loose now, sleeves pushed up, hands moving as she talked to Daniel like her body couldn’t stay still when her brain was this alive.
She looked different. Not dressed up. Not braced. Just… lit from the inside. Like she’d stepped fully into herself instead of trying to take up less room.
My chest ached from staring at her.
Daniel spotted us first and grinned like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Okay,” he announced loudly, clapping his hands together. “I am declaring a sibling emergency.”
Em turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes lighting up when she saw Miles. Then she saw the flowers in my hands, and whatever she was about to say disappeared completely.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Daniel didn’t give her a second to recover. He slung an arm around Miles’s shoulders and steered him toward the door with exaggerated urgency. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get pizza. Like, real pizza. The kind that stains your soul.”
Miles gasped, clutching his jacket. “With pepperoni?”
“Extra,” Daniel promised solemnly. “As long as it’s okay with Uncle Noah?”
Fuck. What if someone spied on them? What if someone followed them? “Uh—”
“We’ll get it to go and head back to your place. Em gave me the key. I will keep him safe, Noah, and text once we get home.”
I glanced at Em, and she nodded. “Okay, yeah. Thanks, Daniel.”
“Figured you two should talk now that the guys all left. Oh, Theo and Audrey are coming by your place in an hour. I might’ve invited them. They are checking into a hotel first.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I’m sorry, I can tell them not to come.” Em moved toward me, grinning at the flowers as she breathed them in. “Thank you for these.”
“Of course. But hey, your family can definitely come over. I told you, it’s your place too.”
Daniel clicked his tongue, giving Em a goofy look before he waved. “See you guys in an hour.”
They disappeared down the sidewalk, Daniel throwing me a look over his shoulder that said don’t waste this before the door swung shut behind them.
Silence settled into the space—the kind that wrapped around you when everyone else stepped away and left something important behind.
The hum of the lights, the distant city noise through the glass, the faint scent of fabric and fresh paint and flowers in my hands.
Em stood a few feet from me, still holding the bouquet with awe on her face.
I crossed the room slowly, giving her time to breathe. She looked up when I stopped in front of her, eyes shining in that way that always captivated me. Not tears exactly. Just emotion, raw and close to the surface. I loved the real version of herself. This one.
“You did this,” I said quietly, nodding toward the space around us.
“I know you keep hearing it today, but I need you to hear it from me. This didn’t happen because of luck or timing or someone else opening a door.
This happened because you built something people want.
You stayed up late and ruined your hands and trusted your instincts when no one else did. ”
Her lips parted, breath catching a little. “Noah—”
“I’m serious,” I said, stepping closer. I reached out, took the flowers from her gently, and set them on the nearest table so my hands were free. “Watching you today? Seeing you move through this place like it already belongs to you? I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of anyone.”
Something in her face cracked open at that. She shook her head once, like she didn’t trust herself to speak yet, and I closed the last inch of space between us.
I didn’t rush it.
I cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing softly along her cheeks, feeling the warmth of her skin, the way she leaned into my touch without thinking. Her hands came up automatically, gripping my hoodie at the waist.
I kissed her slowly.
Not hungry. Not desperate. Just full.
I wanted this kiss to show her how much she mattered, how much her happiness mattered to me.
My mouth moved against hers with steady pressure, unhurried, like I had nowhere else to be and nothing else pulling at me.
She sighed into it, that familiar sound that went straight through my chest, and her fingers dug into my clothes.
I kissed her again, deeper this time, still controlled, still careful. My hands slid from her face to her back, holding her there, solid and certain. She melted into me, and when I finally pulled back enough to breathe, her forehead brushed my chin.
I rested my forehead against hers, eyes closed, breathing her in. “I know today was a lot,” I murmured. “And I know there’s still stuff hanging over us. My parents. Logistics. Everything. But this?” I lifted my head slightly so she had to meet my eyes. “This is real. And it’s yours.”
Her voice came out quiet. “I keep waiting for someone to tell me I’m dreaming.”
I smiled softly and kissed her again, a quick press to her lips this time. “You’re awake, Em. I promise.”
She laughed under her breath, a shaky sound that still carried joy in it, and leaned her forehead into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her there while the moment settled.
“I don’t want this to turn into pressure,” I said after a beat. “Or expectation. Or something you feel like you have to live up to. You don’t owe anyone perfection. You owe yourself to chase your dream.”
She nodded against me, fingers tracing slow, absent patterns into my side. “I feel like I can breathe when you say things like that.”
“Good,” I replied quietly. “Because I mean them.”
We stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the middle of her almost-shop, the future spread out around us in half-built shelves and stacked boxes. I kissed her hair, then her temple, then her cheek—soft, affectionate touches that said I’m here without asking for anything in return.
Things were finally going right for her, and I hoped the bullshit with my parents wouldn’t get in the way.