39. Cal #2
Ivy scoffed. “Like I was letting him drown in his stupidity alone.” She leaned over and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I was hurt, Cal. But I also refused to let him walk away. The trust was broken, but we managed to rebuild it. One honest conversation at a time.”
I nodded. “How long did it take?”
Gabe chuckled sheepishly. “Ivy is an incredibly forgiving woman, and we got married six months later.”
“Right, high school sweethearts.”
Ivy smiled. “We’d been friends most of our lives.
And yes, you and Noelle have been apart longer than you were together, but if you’re really serious about making this work, it means no more walls.
Uncomfortable conversations require honesty and vulnerability.
It is uncomfortable to bare your soul to another person, but if you truly love someone, you let yourself be seen and known, broken pieces and all.
” Her gaze wandered from me to Gabe, a silent conversation and shared memories passing between them.
“Because when we share our broken pieces, the Lord can use it to create something beautiful together that we could never make on our own.”
In the quietness of the hotel room, I collapsed on my bed. It’d been great to catch up with the Carsons. But now . . . there was something else I needed to do.
I hit Noelle’s number. The ache to talk to her—hear her voice—was overwhelming. The conversation with Gabe and Ivy probably had something to do with it.
Broken yet beautiful.
“Cal? Is everything okay?” Tiredness laced her words.
I cringed, forgetting she was an hour ahead. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just doomscrolling social media. You saved me from myself.”
I chuckled, running a hand over my jaw. “You, doomscroll?”
Noelle huffed softly, and I could easily picture her eye roll. “I’m a glutton for punishment,” she tried to joke. “This paparazzi stuff is insane.”
I bit back a groan. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
“It’s okay,” she said gently. “I knew what I was signing up for.”
Still, it wasn’t something she should have to get used to. I’d fix it. Somehow. For now, there were other things to discuss.
“Is Khia okay?” I asked, stretching out against the pillows.
“Missing you, but totally fine. After rooting for you and Uncle Myles, she took the loss pretty hard. Told the refs they made terrible calls. It was adorable to watch her shake her finger at the TV. I’ll send you the video.”
I grinned. That was my girl.
“Of course, she also asked why you were in the penalty box. Or the sin bin as she kept calling it.”
I winced. Pretty sure Van taught her that term. “She saw that part, huh?”
“It’s part of your job, Mr. Defense. So . . . you’re calling for a reason. Feel like telling me?”
“What if I said I just wanted to hear your voice?” Ugh, talk about unsmooth. Hailey had no right telling me I was suave. Because when it mattered, I was not smooth. I was a dirt road with potholes.
Noelle was quiet.
“Too much?”
“Cal . . .”
“Noelle.”
She snuffled softly in amusement, and I grinned at the normalcy of it all. Like the years between us were a blink. Nonexistent. That sobered me.
One honest conversation at a time.
“Why did you leave?” I asked hoarsely. “And don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ stuff again. We deserve better than that.”
“What do you remember about those days?”
“Lots of kissing,” I teased, trying to make her smile.
But it didn’t work because her voice was small when she added, “About my family drama specifically?”
“Stuff with Olive mostly. And . . . well, I guess your mom, but no one knew about that at the time . . . Except you, right?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you—?”
“Your dad sat me down and told me a few things in confidence.” I swallowed hard and softened my tone.
“I forgave you years ago, but it hurt, Elle. I didn’t think hearts could hurt that bad.
It was like grieving someone who’d died without actually having that final closure. But I want to hear your side. Please.”
“Can we switch to video then? I’d rather see your facial expressions than speak into the void and try to guess your emotions.”
I hit the video button before she even finished talking.
Exhaustion lined her face. Blonde hair in a messy bun and an oversized tee trying to slip off her shoulder. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“My parents were super strict with me, and they tried the same with Olive.”
I nodded, remembering. Noelle was engaged and still had a ten o’clock curfew.
That had been one point of contention in our relationship.
I thought she needed to stand up to her parents, and she was trying to honour them.
It was a messy system—they were trying to wrangle their younger daughters, and to keep the peace, they roped Noelle into their same rules despite the age and maturity differences.
“I was the glue trying to keep everything together,” she went on. “Trying to get my family through a rough spot, plan a wedding, hold down two jobs . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced away.
“Don’t hide,” I begged.
“You already know about my mom. Well, I’m the one who found her.
Words were exchanged and, well, it wasn’t pretty.
Around the same time I found out she was changing wedding plans on me after I’d already confirmed things.
She was reallocating the money they’d offered to foot the bill to get Olive into Juilliard in hopes she’d settle down.
” She rubbed her forehead. “I was beyond mad. After everything I did and she . . . I was undervalued. Like all I was good for was free labour and saving everyone when they failed.”
I wished we were having this conversation in person so I could wrap her up in a hug. “You wanted someone to save you,” I whispered.
Noelle nodded, a haunted look in her eyes. “But no one showed up. My family was breaking, you were getting drafted, and I was drowning.”
“Elle—”
“Wait, let me get this out before I lose my courage.” She sniffed.
“I never blamed you for your excitement. I was so happy for you—so proud.” A soft smile curved her lips.
“I still am. But back then, I did resent that you got handed everything on a silver tray: the fame, the dream job, the perfect family. I felt like a consolation prize whose life was falling apart. I couldn’t keep going like that.
So I ran. From the weight of responsibility, from the only guy I ever loved, from the adopted family who loved me better than my own.
I needed to breathe. Six months in, I was so homesick I almost came back. ”
I gripped the coverlet, listening. Getting closure felt a lot like heart surgery, dredging up sharp fissures and suturing old wounds.
But without it, true healing couldn’t happen.
How could I have been so blind? The woman I loved with my entire being had been struggling, and I’d missed all the signs.
The only way she caught my attention was by running. “Why didn’t you?”
She swiped a rogue tear off her cheek. “I convinced myself you could never forgive me. I couldn’t even forgive myself. You wouldn’t want me back, and I couldn’t blame you. So I stayed away. And then when I finally got a hold of my courage . . .” She lifted her head. “It was too late.”
“Too late? Never,” I said roughly.
“Cal.” There was so much agony wrapped up in that one word. “The night before I flew out, I saw your wedding pictures. It was the definition of too late.”
A knife lodged in my chest, and I sucked in a ragged breath, unsure of what to say.
But Noelle wasn’t done. “I stole a T-shirt from your room when I left. It smelled like you for three months, then I bought your cologne and kept spraying it.”
Hope crashed over me like waves on the shoreline. “You still loved me?”
Noelle’s laugh was watery. “I never stopped. Every guy I dated after you couldn’t measure up to the standard you’d set. There weren’t many, but still. I didn’t know how to live with everything that happened. I was drowning, and I couldn’t get out. Wendy grew up.”
I smiled at her messy bun, tearful dark eyes, and earnest expression.
We were finally talking. Breaking down the barriers.
“Good thing this Peter Pan grew up then, too. If you want me, Noelle, want us, I’m not letting you go a second time.
I should have chased you—I regret not manning up back then. ”
Maybe I was falling too hard, too fast. But we were two pieces of a puzzle. Pursuing her felt right. She was the only woman I wanted at my side. Wanted to laugh with and come home to. I wanted the good, bad, and everything in between. Call me a sap, but I knew what I wanted.
“Go on another date with me?” I asked.
“If you insist.”
“Oh, I do, sweetheart.” I smiled at the screen. “I’m playing for keeps.”