CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
INTUITION IGNORED
I was in the middle of locking up my desk when Patrick approached me the following Friday, a couple of days after Meg and I had gotten into our little disagreement.
From the look on his face, Meg had talked to him, and he didn’t look all that thrilled.
“Hey, kid,” he said, crossing his arms and sitting at the edge of my desk.
“Hey, Paddy,” I muttered, already dreading wherever this conversation was heading.
“Turn that frown upside down.”
I lifted my glare to glower at him. “You here to lecture me?”
“Oh, and what would I be lecturin’ ya about?” He feigned cluelessness, pursing his lips and gripping his chin in his hand.
“I know she talked to you.”
He nodded slowly. “Yep, she sure did.”
I huffed a laugh, shaking my head as I grabbed my messenger bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes toward my future father-in-law and cocked my head, waiting for the scolding I was certain was heading my way.
Because, see, I was heading up to Massachusetts, and I was going tonight.
I had told Meg about it the night before, told her I only intended on staying for two nights, three at most, depending on what I ended up uncovering while I was up there.
I even asked if she’d like to come with me, and she seemed to consider it, until she remembered she had already committed to staying the night at her mom, Christine’s, house on Saturday and attending a bridal shower with her on Sunday—plans that I, too, had forgotten she’d made.
She tried to talk me out of going again, but the lack of strength in her voice told me she knew the battle was futile.
I tried to make her feel better by saying I’d be staying with my aunt and her husband in Salem.
They knew I was coming, they knew why I was coming—well, sort of—and my plan was to let them always know my whereabouts.
It was my attempt at a compromise—to help Meghan feel at least a little better about me leaving for a few days to find a man I knew nothing about.
Her begrudged resignation had told me she still wasn't satisfied, and her father's presence now confirmed it.
“Kinsey needed to discover herself too,” Patrick finally said, speaking of his wife. “We broke up after she went to college, and that's when I … well, that's when I got together with Meg's mother.”
So, that was what Meg had told her father. That I needed to go away and, what, find myself?
Thinking about it now, I couldn't say it was far from the truth. Because that was, in a way, what I was doing, wasn't it? Finding that piece of my past to mend the fractures in my shattered soul.
“You're young,” he went on, crossing his arms over his chest. “You love my daughter—I have no doubt about that—and you'll come back to her—”
“I was never not coming back,” I interrupted. “God, Patrick, I'm leaving for three, four days. We're not talking about years here.”
He furrowed his brow and nodded. “No, no, I know that.
All I'm sayin', Noah, is that I understand. Everything moved a little fast with you kids, and if you need to go and think for a couple of days, get away and clear your head, then …” He shrugged.
“As long as I have your word that you'll come back, that you're not gonna leave and break her heart, then I stand by ya.”
I blinked off toward the department's coffee station.
Meg had brought in a box of doughnuts from Patty's Cakes earlier that day.
A coffee machine sat beside that box, along with an assortment of both caffeinated and decaffeinated flavored coffees.
It was something Meg had taken charge of a while back, after she got sick of the instant shit her dad kept stocked.
It was a welcome addition to the place, and I had been so proud of her for turning something so crappy into something at least most of us looked forward to utilizing every day.
That her father thought I needed time to reassess my relationship with her was almost enough to force every last drop of air from my lungs.
She was all I'd wanted since I had been thirteen fucking years old, for fuck's sake, and that hadn't changed. Not even for a second.
But if that was what he needed to believe to back me up, to be on my side, then …
I blew out a shaky breath, then bit my lip as I nodded. “I, uh … I appreciate that.”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “Ya are comin' back, right?”
“Jesus Christ, Patrick,” I grumbled, wishing I could tell him the truth, but knowing if I did, he'd stop me. He'd tell my parents. He'd ruin everything. “Of course I'm coming back. I'm just going to stay with my aunt for a few days—that's all. It's … God, it's not that fucking deep.”
“I know. I know,” he said, giving his head a little nod. “Meg's just … she's emotional, ya know? She, um … she's worried, and I think she's feelin' a little insecure. It'll be all right. Just keep in touch with her, will ya? She needs some reassurance.”
“That was already a part of the plan,” I said, holding his gaze.
He clapped a hand against my shoulder, continuing to nod. “You're a good man, Noah. Have a good weekend. We'll see ya on Tuesday, right?”
“Tuesday,” I promised.
“All right.”
Then he smiled, wrapping that arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a hug that surprised me. It felt unnecessary. It felt weird. But still, I hugged him back.
“I love ya, kid,” he said, backing away just as quickly.
I gripped the back of my neck as something inside my soul seemed to rock out of place, leaving me shaken. Unsettled.
“Love you too,” I muttered as he walked away and down the hall to his office. Giving me the space to go and find myself in Massachusetts.
***
“I can't believe you're not telling your parents,” Meg said, following me out the door.
I sniffed a laugh. I couldn't believe it either, but …
“I'm calling them from the road,” I told her. “If I told them now, they'd talk me out of going. Or insist on coming with me.”
She was quiet, and when I glanced over my shoulder as I opened my car's trunk, I saw the scowl on her lips.
“So, you're saying they have that power over you, but I don't?” she asked, tightening her arms over her chest.
“Babe,” I said, throwing my bag inside and closing the door. I went to her, taking her shoulders in my hands. “It's not too late. If you want to come, you can.”
“I …” She bit her lip, like she wanted to say something, then shook her head. “I can't. I haven't seen my mom in months, and she'd tear me apart if I didn't go to this damn bridal shower. I have cousins coming from out of state for it who I haven't seen in forever.”
The relationship with her mother's side of the family was a complicated one. I didn't know much about them, and I'd only ever seen her mother for Christmas, sometimes Easter.
“I mean, you could go to Massachusetts next weekend—”
I shook my head regrettably. “Aunt Stormy and Uncle Charlie aren't gonna be around, and I really just wanna get this over with. I don't want to drag it out.”
She sighed but nodded because as much as she didn’t support my desire to go away, she did understand the necessity of ripping this bandage off as quickly as possible. My mind would never rest, and I wanted to get back to the regular routine of life as badly as she did.
Then she sniffled and wiped her hand beneath her nose. “Plus, you know, you have a birthday next weekend.”
“That's right,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into my chest. “And all this shit will be behind us.”
I wished. I hoped.
But that was what this weekend was about. Getting over the past and moving forward. Moving on. And hopefully finding contentedness in this life without the need for more. Because that, I knew, she would never be okay with.
Her hands fisted in my T-shirt as she sucked in a deep breath, pulling in my scent and blowing it out.
“I don't understand this whole thing,” she whispered for the fiftieth time in the last few days.
“But I hope you get what you need from it. I really, really do. Just … God, Noah, please stay safe. Come back to me.”
“Babe,” I said, kissing the top of her head and burying my nose in her nest of curls, “I'm not disappearing. I'm going to be a phone call away, and I will be back on Tuesday morning at the absolute latest. This is where I live. This is my home. You. You are home. Okay?”
She sniffled again, then nodded as she took a step back. “You have your gun?”
“Ready and loaded,” I promised, thinking about the weapon in the glove compartment of my car.
“Good. Keep it on you. Just in case.”
“Always.”
She nodded, lifting her eyes to mine. They sparkled and shone, glittering sky blue, like the ocean beneath a summer sun.
They reminded me of mornings fishing with Dad.
They reminded me of carefree weekends with my grandparents.
They reminded me of everything good that had ever happened in my life, where the bad things had been aplenty.
All those good things were wrapped up in her, my angel.
My savior. My purpose for everything. This …
this weekend … it was as much about her as it was for me, even if she didn't see that.
It was about getting over a past that had held me prisoner, about moving on and embarking into a future with her, clearheaded and unburdened.
“I love you, Meghan,” I said, kissing her forehead, then her lips. “You're gonna see your mom. You're gonna have fun. You're barely gonna notice I'm gone, and then, when I come back, life will go on like none of this ever happened.”
Her bottom lip began to tremble as she whispered, “I don't know how to sleep without you.”
“Then we're gonna be really, really tired by the time I get back because I know I can't sleep without you,” I said, forcing a smile to pull one from her.
“We can even take off from work on Tuesday and sleep, okay? The whole day.” I slid a hand over her body, to cup the juncture between her thighs with my palm.
“Right after I devour this spot right here because I know I'm gonna lose my mind not having it for four fucking days.”
“Oh my God,” she said with a laugh, brushing my hand away. “We're in the driveway. The neighbors—”
“Fuck the neighbors. Let them be jealous.” I laid my mouth over hers once more. “We're gonna be okay.”
She kissed me back, then nodded. “I know. I just don't like this.”
“I know.”
I took a step away, taking in the sight of her in my sweatpants and T-shirt. Her tangle of hair sitting atop her head. Her blue, blue eyes and sad, sad lips. Then I opened the door, leaned against the side of the car, and stared for a few seconds longer.
My chest ached.
My gut warned.
“I love you,” I said again.
“I love you too,” she whispered, nodding.
I held her gaze. “I mean it, Meg. I might not be sure of a lot of things, but there is nothing uncertain about the way I feel for you. I love you. It's the one thing, above all else, that makes sense in my life.”
She bit her lip, nodded softly, then whispered, “I know.”
Then, with a hurried sigh, I broke the hold her eyes had on me and got into the car. “Don't stop blowing up my phone,” I told her.
She sniffed loudly, she rubbed her nose, and she said, “I won't.”
“Love you, babe,” I said once more for good measure.
I closed the car door, blew a kiss through the windshield, and backed out of the driveway without looking back. Afraid that, if I stayed for a moment longer, I might listen to that intuitive, nagging little voice telling me to just …
Stay.