Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
NOAH (PRESENT)
THREE WEEKS LATER
This house would always remain a paradox to me. I loved that my mother found her happiness here, that she’d been able to make this place her own and live her life the way she’d always wanted and deserved to.
While we lived in Colombia, I’d known she had always been looking over her shoulder and making sure I was protected. She’d selflessly prioritized my well-being and happiness over her own.
But here, she’d blossomed back into Camila Montero, the free-spirited artist who loved life and laughed so freely, you couldn’t help but join her.
She’d been able to become who she’d always been inside before my father’s claws dug so deep, it dimmed her light.
Despite all the love and happiness I’d experienced within these walls whenever I visited her, it would also always be intertwined with the memory of losing one of my favorite people.
It had been the only place I had left that reminded me of her, but one I’d avoided like the plague ever since her funeral.
When I’d been told about her passing, I’d taken the first available flight and had come straight here. For some stupid reason, I’d still held the hope that they’d called the wrong person.
That it hadn’t been my mother who had died, that it had been someone else’s.
But the moment the door opened and a hospice nurse greeted me with a somber expression, the death of my mother had sunk in.
The townhouse still looked exactly the same as I’d left it, everything that represented my mother encapsulated into a frozen moment in time.
Various of her paintings were hanging over the walls, her last work in progress still mounted on the easel, the last brushes she’d used scattered on the wooden table standing next to her workstation.
Trinkets she’d picked up from El Rastro were placed everywhere around the living area and you could see a piece of her everywhere you looked.
As I stood in the front doorway, memories of her flooded back, painting vivid images of her laughing and dancing as she cooked while I sat on the large couch in the living room attached to the kitchen, just watching her and basking in her energy.
After her funeral that had taken place the next day of her passing, I had come back here to gather her things and put the house up for sale, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it.
Everywhere I’d looked was just a painful reminder of who I’d just lost. I could barely bring myself to walk inside the house every time I had to, let alone stay over for days to pack up her things, only to uncover more frozen memories that would send my mind spiraling faster than it already had been.
So instead, I’d put off clearing and selling this place for so long because it had always felt like the last remaining tether to my mother.
But I’d realized over the last three weeks that my mother would always be wherever I was.
Grief would always be my silent companion, a constant reminder of my mother’s loss, but despite the process not being linear, my father’s death had snuffed so many of my inner demons that it felt easier to take this task on.
And I had Amalia with me.
I’d realized that needing someone by your side didn’t equate to weakness like my father had reminded me of so many times. It just meant that you didn’t have to face life’s hardships alone when the person you loved wanted to do it with you, to support you through every step.
Amalia had made so many things more bearable, no matter how hard they’d come to be.
She was my solace, my peace.
After leaving the riad , I’d decided to drive all night back to my apartment in Bemes because I hadn’t wanted to spend another second in the town where so many of my painful memories coated the air.
I’d known there were many things I’d need to unpack in therapy, but I’d spent the entire drive coming to terms that my father was dead, that I’d ended his life.
But I also realized that breathing had become easier, my thoughts were now freer, and that I didn’t have to lie anymore.
We’d gotten there early the next morning and after a much-needed long shower, both Amalia and I had immediately collapsed into bed from the exhaustion.
We’d spent the rest of that week sleeping, eating, being with each other, and getting our story straight for the Bureau since we’d had a meeting with the Director the following Monday.
Amalia and I had decided to keep the details vague and only tell Director Williams what he’d need to know.
We’d informed him that Barrera had been terminated by a rival and assured him that the new Rai’s wouldn’t be an issue, omitting any of our personal ties to Nassim and Barrera from the report.
Although Williams had asked us for more information, we’d told him that we’d both suffered enough and didn’t want to relive the details again. Fortunately for us, both of our track records were impeccable so he hadn’t pressed further.
Following our post-operation review, we’d been granted the few weeks of leave we’d each requested. We both loved our jobs, but after everything that had happened, our desire for a future at the Bureau wasn’t as evident as it used to be.
I’d spent so much of my life working that I hadn’t actually lived. And I was tired of doing that. I didn’t really know who I was aside from being Agent Brown or Uncle Noah, but I wanted to give myself a chance.
No matter how fucking old I was now.
Amalia was grappling with a similar dilemma and although she hadn’t decided yet what her decision would be, I’d support whatever she’d end up choosing.
Instead, she’d been focused on mending the bridge in her relationship with her siblings. Prior to coming to the small town where my mother had lived, we’d driven to Sibaya, where I’d dropped her off at her older sister Antonia’s house.
I’d offered to go in with her, but she’d asked if I could wait for her in the car.
Amalia’s sister had initially slammed the door in her face when she’d figured out who had been at her doorstep. However, after a few more tries, Antonia had relented and let Amalia in.
Nearly an hour later, another car had pulled up into Antonia’s driveaway. A man around Jamal’s age who looked like a carbon copy of Amalia, whom I’d assumed was her little brother ángel, walked out and headed inside the house.
I’d anxiously waited for what felt like hours, praying to whoever was out there that she’d come out with anything other than the scared look she’d gone in with.
And she had. She hadn’t necessarily had a smile on her face, but when she’d approached where I’d been parked on the other side of the street, I’d sensed that the weight she’d carried going in had been lifted off her shoulders.
Once she’d settled into her seat, she’d begun recounting everything that had transpired while I’d started our drive here.
Her siblings were still furious with her, but they’d been willing to hear her out and to give her a chance because I’d learned through all of this that that’s what a real family was about.
I might not have grown with much of one, but I’d found one along the way within Jamal and Amalia.
I looked over at Amalia who was standing next to me, finding her quietly watching over me. She gave me a small encouraging smile and laced her fingers with mine.
“You ready to do this?” she asked, giving my hand a small squeeze of support.
The usual anxiety whenever I’d been here and that made me want to turn around and delay clearing this place out started creeping up my chest, but I pushed it back, grounding myself in Amalia’s touch on my skin as I let out a deep breath.
“Yeah,” I finally said, stepping inside with her by my side. “I am.”
We had spent hours and hours going through all of my mother’s things with Amalia, putting anything I’d wanted to keep in a separate box.
Once we’d been done, I’d said a final goodbye to the place and, with Amalia’s hand in mine, walked to the car and had driven to our final stop before we’d head home.
I crouched down in front of the grave and stared at my mother’s name engraved on the granite tombstone. I hesitantly ran my fingers over her name, each embossed letter a painful reminder of her absence.
This was my first time seeing it again after her funeral and grief squeezed around my ribcage, unsure of what to say.
“Hey, mamá ,” I began, my voice cracking at the end with emotion. I paused, struggling to find the words. I took a deep breath and continued, “I’m sorry for not coming sooner. I wanted to, but…”
My voice faltered because there weren’t any excuses that could justify my absence. I’d wanted to come so many times, but every time I’d tried, I couldn’t bring myself to.
Being here always felt like too much to brave on my own.
The ache around my chest tightened as I said the next words. “ Te echo de menos ? 1 . Every day. I won’t hide the fact that I’m still a little mad at you for not telling me about what was happening. I can’t blame you for wanting to pass on your own terms, but I wish you’d given me the chance to say goodbye.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat.
“It’s finally over, mamá . He’s gone and I guess we can both be free now, wherever you are. I know I am.”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I pushed them back down.
“Remember when you told me about finding someone. Well, I actually had at the time. Let’s just say I’d been a little stubborn to realize it, but she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. Well, after you of course.”
That last part garnered me a small laugh from Amalia. She’d been standing at the gate of the small enclosure I was inside, close enough to hear me this whole time, but she hadn’t said or moved to give me space with my mother, but still there if I needed.
“The way I’d originally planned this was a lot different than this, but I’d really like for you to meet the love of my life.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Would you like to meet her, baby?”
She nodded. “I’d love to,” she said, approaching where I was.
I’d always wanted them to meet, but life just had other plans. Despite not this being the way I’d imagined their first encounter to be, my heart still soared at the sight of Amalia sitting next to me.
And I joined her.
“Hi, I’m Amalia, the love of your son’s life apparently,” she teased, briefly glancing at me before bringing her gaze to my mother’s headstone. “You raised a good man, and despite his occasional flaws, he’s all right,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder.
I raised a brow. “Oh yeah, I’m just all right?”
“Most times,” she said, letting out a small laugh.
I leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “I’ll teach you what ‘all right’ is later.”
Amalia cleared her throat. “In all seriousness, he’s also the love of my life. I wish I could have met you so I could have told you this in person, well, I guess I am, but thank you for protecting and taking care of him the way you did.”
If I wasn’t already madly in love with this woman, I’d fall in love with her all over again. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve Amalia, but I’d cherish every second of it.
She made me feel loved and valued, and there was no greater gift
Knowing the cemetery was about to close, I stood and brushed the dust off my pants. I offered my hand to Amalia to help her stand. She took it and as she got up, I used my palms to brush the dust off her backside selfishly.
Amalia took her hand from mine and pushed against the one, slowly brushing the curvature of her ass. “Stop it. Your mom’s right here.”
My shoulder shook with laughter. “Oh, she doesn’t mind,” I started, looking back at my mother’s grave. “Right, Mom?”
Amalia smacked my shoulder. “Noah.”
With a smile playing on my lips, I brought a hand to rest over her headstone. “I love you. I’ll be back, I promise.”
I grabbed Amalia’s hand and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. I then moved to walk away, but she stopped me.
Before I could ask her why, she looked at my mother’s grave and said, “I promise to take care of him, Camila.”
A bright smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she looked back at me.
Did I already say I loved this woman?
I mirrored her smile and moved my free hand to cup her cheek. “I love you,” I whispered as I brought her closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips.
Goose bumps scattered across my skin and suddenly, the sun peeked over the clouds, shining brighter as if my mother was smiling down at us.
I know, mamá.
Pulling away, I draped my arm over her shoulders, still holding her hand, and guided us down the path where my car was parked.
Once we were both settled in our seats, I drove us back to our hotel where we’d spend the night before heading home tomorrow morning.
We’d been back at our hotel for the last two hours and were lying in bed after showering, just basking in each other’s presence.
I brushed my hand through her hair, her head resting against my chest, while my other arm was wrapped around her, skating circles over her bare lower back.
This was where I felt the happiest. Amalia made me feel the happiest.
I knew things between us weren’t perfect, but there was no such thing as a perfect relationship. Amalia made me feel safe and loved. She felt like home and I didn’t want to waste more time than I’d already had.
“Marry me, pretty girl,” I breathed out, nervousness creeping up my chest.
She looked up at me, her eyes widening. “What?”
“Marry me,” I repeated. “I shouldn’t be greedy after you just gave me a second chance and you can say no I’d understand, but I want to marry you. I don’t want to keep waiting and delaying what I’ve known for a very long time even when we were apart. I love you. So much sometimes it hurts. I want to do life with you. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you, and keep annoying you until you challenge me to a fight. I want you, Amalia Abara. So marry me.”
For a few moments, Amalia just looked at me and couldn’t help the dread plummeting in my gut. Not that it wouldn’t break my heart a little, but I’d understand if she said no.
I was just tired of waiting for the inevitable. I’d wasted so long trying to do the right thing and not feel my emotions to the fullest. But when I looked at Amalia in my arms, I wanted this to be forever.
“Yes.”
A single word had never sounded better.
1 ? I miss you.