7. Noah #3
Her words should’ve eased the guilt that had coiled in my stomach, but they didn’t. “That’s not how I want things to be,” I admitted.
“Your father...” She trailed off, then shook her head and offered me a hopeful glance. “What’s on your mind, Noah?”
I wanted to tell her about Zoey, but decided against it. “Wednesdays,” I said, the idea surfacing like a lifeline. “You and I could have dinner together. Every week, just us.”
Her expression brightened instantly, the lines of worry smoothing out.
“I’d love that.” She washed her hands, then pulled off the apron, and we walked out the door.
I offered her my elbow and escorted her to my car.
Once she’d settled and pulled her seat belt on, I asked where she wanted to go for dinner.
“You need to ask? Have you been away that long?” Mom asked, pretending to be shocked.
“The Odyssey it is.” It was good to know something as long-standing as my mom’s favorite restaurant hadn’t changed.
Silverware clinked softly against the plates, and the low hum of other diners’ conversations filled the restaurant.
I glanced across the table at my mom, her features softened by the warm glow of the overhead pendant light.
The quaint Italian bistro felt both cozy and distant from the tensions of home.
“It’s been too long since we’ve had a night out like this,” she said, smiling as she twirled spaghetti around her fork. “Thank you for this, Noah.”
“Of course, Mom,” I said with a forced smile, poking at my own food.
She tilted her head, a familiar crease forming between her brows. “What’s bothering you, darling? You seem distracted.”
I took a deep breath, the words I needed to say lodged in my throat. “There’s someone,” I began. I met her gaze, searching for understanding. “Her name is Zoey.”
“Zoey?” Recognition sparked on her face. “Sam Crew’s stepdaughter?”
“Yeah, that’s her.” I nodded, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin. “Mom, she’s... she’s my fated mate.”
Her hand stilled in mid-air, the pasta hanging there forgotten.
“Oh.” She sighed, and it held a mix of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite decipher.
With a sympathetic tilt of her head, she said, “Your father told me a little about her situation. I can’t imagine what she’s gone through or the courage it took to leave. Does she know?”
“Not yet,” I admitted, feeling the nerves bubble up again, hoping she’d offer her perspective on this complex situation. “It’s complicated. You know she’s been through a lot.”
She set her fork down on the plate, opting instead to clasp her hands together and rest them under her chin.
“Zoey,” she murmured, the name sounding like a quiet prayer on her lips.
“That poor girl... and now this.” Her gaze met mine, brimming with a mix of shock and concern.
“You’re in a tough spot, Noah. It’s not fair.
None of it. Your father barely scratched the surface of her story with me, but I can tell it’s been a difficult journey.
” She pushed her food around her plate. “Her past is going to be an obstacle to your future.”
I nodded. “It’s an obstacle, all right, but I’ll get through it.” Her advice wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard or considered already.
She patted my hand. “I know you will. Take everything at her pace. Be her friend, don’t let your wolf push you too fast. Zoey will see the man you are, Noah. If anyone can help her heal, it’s you.”
She sipped her wine, giving me an assessing look over the top of her glass. I raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“You remind me so much of your father.” She laughed when I made a face.
“Oh, you are, son, in so many ways. When I met him, he came charging into my life. Within weeks, he’d claimed me, and that worked for us.
Forty years, and I love him more now than I did then.
But Zoey’s not only had it tough herself, she has her son to think about.
She’s going to need patience and time. I know your wolf is champing at the bit to be her everything, but your kind heart will even him out and make all the difference.
You’ve inherited your father’s strength.
” She winked, her eyes twinkling with affection.
“But more importantly, you have my heart.”
No matter how chaotic my emotions were, my mom had a way of bringing clarity and a smile to my face. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot.”
“Remember, one step at a time,” she advised, giving my hand a squeeze, “and the rest will follow.”
“I won’t forget.” Her touch grounded me. She spoke of my father’s strength, but she had an innate one of her own that I’d always admired. “One step at a time,” I echoed, allowing myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right.
The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and we enjoyed each other’s company over the rest of the meal. For the first time since I’d returned to Boldercrest, I spent time with my mom, and we got caught up on each other’s lives properly.
With the bill paid, we stepped outside into a pleasant evening breeze that carried the enticing scents of the forest. The aroma of earthy moss and blooming wildflowers stirred my wolf.
My skin itched with his urge to shift and run, offering me a chance to think and process everything my mom had said.
And as a bonus, I’d burn off the calories from the pasta I’d eaten.
The chocolate cake I’d had for dessert didn’t count.
The drive back to the alpha house was short.
As I pulled up the driveway, the sight of my father standing on the porch like a silent sentinel put a damper on what had been a nice evening with my mother.
His presence seemed to suck the warmth from the air, leaving a chill that settled over my skin.
Paying no mind to the rigid figure standing by the door, I walked around the car and helped my mother out.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said to me softly, kissing my cheek. Her warm embrace and the familiar, soothing scent of her perfume helped ease the tension in my muscles.
“Any time, Mom,” I said.
Smiling, she gave my arm an affectionate squeeze, then walked towards my father. There was a silent standoff between my father and me, a divide that kept us apart without words. Neither of us moved to bridge the gap.
“Goodnight,” my mother called over her shoulder.
“Goodnight,” I replied.
Ignoring my father, she went into the house. His gaze followed her until the door was shut. Only then did I find myself under his scrutiny. There was no anger, no reproach, just a tired acknowledgment of the gulf that lay between us, a nod that might have been respect or resignation.
I returned his nod, the gesture feeling hollow. The whole encounter felt surreal. Still, neither of us spoke. After a moment, he followed my mother’s path, and I watched the door close behind him, the click of it final, echoing in my mind.
The evening air brushed against my skin, offering a respite from the searing heat that consumed me.
My hands balled into fists at my sides, knuckles whitening with the strain.
The darkness of the night intensified, revealing a sky filled with countless stars.
I remained alone, gazing at the place I once called home, but now felt very much like an outsider.
“Dammit,” I muttered, kicking at the tire. Nate would have stood tall, shoulders back, the perfect son, ready to mend fences with a smile and an apology he didn’t owe. But that wasn’t me.
I looked up at the moon, which hung low in the sky, its soft light illuminating the surrounding darkness.
Putting my hands in my pockets, I strolled over to the edge of the forest and stared off into the trees.
When would I get out from under Nate’s shadow?
Even though we’d been identical twins, we were two very different men.
Nate had been groomed and prepped for this role, not me.
It was never supposed to be mine. My father wanted an echo of his firstborn, not the reality of his second.
“Chasing ghosts,” I said to the night. “You’re chasing Nate’s ghost through me.” But the specters of the past wouldn’t answer, and my father, cocooned in the house behind me, offered no reply.
With a heavy sigh, I walked back towards the car, each footstep heavier than the last. The dream of Nate, that expectation, clung to me like a suit that didn’t fit. I couldn’t be what I wasn’t, even if it meant this rift between me and my father grew wider.
I drove away, the weight of an unwanted legacy pressing down on me.