Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
“You need to talk to her Jay—tell her what that asshole did already,” Wayne snaps.
I shake my head.
“You know Noémie thinks she did something wrong. She’s mad with worry and blaming herself. Be a fucking adult for once and stop shutting her out.”
For the millionth time, I curse myself for telling Wayne about what happened with Claude. Frankly, it’s surprising the traitor hadn’t gone to her immediately with the news. Then again, I think I told him to do my dirty work for me. But he wants me to tell her, and I don’t want to—it’s a difficult conversation I don’t know how to broach.
“I don’t see the point in telling her. She might not even believe me,” I say with sigh. Too many times in my life I’ve not been believed. Closing my eyes briefly, I push back a painful memory.
The office chair I sit on has a foam armrest that’s cracking. I pick at it.
“You need to tell Noémie,” Wayne repeats.
“Tell me what?”
Both Wayne and I look towards the office door—the very open office door. Crap.
Noémie stands in the door frame hugging an empty ice bucket. Her grey eyes are wide, her brows knitting with confusion. She steps into the office, her gaze flitting from Wayne to me. “Tell me what?” she asks again.
“I just remembered that I need to check the oven,” Wayne says. He pushes past Noémie and shuts the door.
Fuck Wayne. I know him well enough to know that he’s likely eavesdropping just outside.
I slouch in my seat and avert my gaze from Noémie’s. I itch for a cigarette, but my need to bolt is even more intense. I don’t want to have this talk. Noémie might not be on the best terms with her brother, but he’s still her brother. If it comes to my word against his, I don’t think she’ll believe me. So why even bother bringing it up?
I pick off a chunk of armrest foam and flick it to the ground.
In a way, I know Wayne is right. I do need to talk to Noémie. I’ve been pretty much ignoring her since Christmas. On the ride back into the city, I pretended to be asleep for the time Noémie drove, and then, when I took over the wheel, I feigned a headache, shutting down any attempt on Noémie’s part to have a fruitful discussion with me.
Things have only gotten more awkward between us over the last couple of days. At home and at work, I try to stay out of her orbit. I can’t look her in the eyes. I hate that I’m worrying Noémie, but I don’t know where to begin.
Noémie sets the ice bucket down a little too hard. “Jordan, is this about the helmet? Are you really that weirded out about it?”
I blink up at her.
Red tinges her neck and cheeks. Her hands are clenched at her sides. “The store opens in ten minutes, but I swear I won’t let you leave this office until you tell me what’s up.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans her back against the door. “I’m so fucking tired of tip-toeing around you. Just tell me what I did already.”
I exhale a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
Seeing Noémie like this—this upset—it’s breaking my heart.
“You didn’t do anything,” I repeat, leaning forward and rubbing my temples. “But I don’t know how to start to explain.”
“You need to. This silent treatment is killing me.”
I look up at her. Noémie’s eyes sparkle with a mix of frustration and tears. She turns her head to the side, wipes her eyes, and sniffles.
Against my better judgement, I go to her. I pull her in my arms. She’s warm and soft and everything I want that I can never have. Her perfume makes my mouth water. Holding her like this feels like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket. My heart jackhammers against my ribcage. Can Noémie feel it?
“Jordan …” she whispers.
I take a step back, withdrawing from her. I clear my throat and decide to rip off the wax. This conversation is going to be difficult. Better to just get it over and done with. “Your brother offered me money to stop being your friend,” I say.
I wait for Noémie to start screaming at me. I wait for her to call me a fucking liar. She doesn’t though. Instead, tears spring from her eyes and run down her cheeks.
“How much?” Her words come out choked. “And let me guess, you took the money, but now you regret it?”
I scowl. “Of course not. Our friendship doesn’t come with a price tag,” I say. “He offered me twenty-five thousand, but there’s no amount of money I’d take.”
Noémie blinks with surprise, as if she couldn’t have possibly heard me right. “You turned down the money?”
“Of course, I turned down the money. Who the fuck wouldn’t?”
“My ex,” she says, hugging her arms around her stomach. She looks down at the vinyl tiles.
My mouth drops open. “Your ex did what?”
Noémie chuckles, but it isn’t a happy sound. She wipes her eyes and sniffles. “My father paid my ex to dump me,” she says, trembling. I can tell she’s trying so hard to keep herself together, but sometimes the only way to become whole again is to break apart first.
Noémie slides her back down the door until she’s sitting on the floor. She squeezes her knees and curls her head to rest on top of them as she sobs.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I settle down next to her and rub her back. “You’re priceless. He’s a fucking idiot.” If you were mine, I’d never let you go.
Noémie peels her head away from her knees. Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are puffy. Still, she couldn’t be more beautiful.
I want to kiss away the tears balancing on her eyelashes and tell her that I will always be here for her if she needs me. Of course, I can’t do that. But I can sit here with her until she puts herself back together. Our customers can wait.