37. Zoey
ZOEY
A s we walked across the road to the small park to wait for Sam, Ro peppered Noah with questions about boxing. “What’s a southpaw? I heard you were a southpaw.”
Noah chuckled. “It means I have a good left hook. Southpaw is the term for a left-handed boxer.”
Ro’s face lit up. “Cool! I’m going to have a strong left hook, too.”
“Everyone’s different, buddy.” Noah ruffled Ro’s hair affectionately. “We’ll have to wait and see how things go as you develop your own style.”
Once we reached the park, Ro made a beeline for the swings. But before Noah and I could even start talking, Ro was already calling out to him.
“Noah, come push me! I want to go high!”
“Just a minute, Ro, I’m talking to your mom.”
“No, I want you to push me now.” Ro’s usually sweet demeanor vanished, and a petulant pout replaced his smile.
I shot Noah an apologetic look. Ro’s uncharacteristic behavior bewildered me. Was this some kind of reaction to the trauma he’d been through? Or more of George’s influence on him? Worry knotted my stomach.
I went to the swings and caught the chains before he could kick off the ground again. “Listen, young man, Noah and I are in the middle of a conversation. When we’re done, I’m sure he’ll be happy to push you. But for now, you need to wait patiently.”
Ro’s lower lip jutted out as he tried to argue. “I don’t want to wait. Tell Noah to push me now.”
“I’ve already told you no,” I said. “If you keep this up, we’ll go wait for Grandpa Sam by the road, and you won’t get to play at the park at all. It’s your choice.”
For a tense moment, Ro stared me down, testing my resolve. When he saw I wasn’t going to budge, he huffed and sat on the swing, pouting but quiet.
I walked back to Noah, guilt gnawing at my stomach.
I hated being so stern with him, but giving in to this behavior would only make things worse in the long run.
It wasn’t easy being firm with Ro, especially when all I wanted was to shelter him from more pain or fear.
But he needed structure and consistency more.
Noah’s hand settled on the small of my back, a comforting warmth seeping through my shirt. “You’re doing great.” His breath tickled my ear. “He’s lucky to have such a strong, loving mother.”
I leaned into his touch, grateful for his steady presence. “Thanks. I just hope I’m handling this right.”
Noah changed the subject. “How does Indian sound? There’s a great place in town. The Spice of Life. They make an incredible butter chicken.”
My stomach rumbled at the thought. “Oh, God, yes. Chicken tikka masala sounds heavenly right about now.”
With a chuckle, Noah laced his fingers through mine, and we wandered over to the swings. After his outburst, Ro had waited patiently, tracing patterns in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. When Noah started pushing him, he squealed in joy.
But then I caught a glimpse of the guards at the perimeter. Their alert stances reminded me of the danger that still lurked. Goosebumps covered my skin as an unsettling thought slithered through my mind. Was George out there somewhere, watching us right at this second? Plotting his next move?
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the paranoid fears. I had to focus on the good. On Ro’s smile, on Noah’s unwavering support, on building a new life free from?—
“Zoey? You still with me?”
I blinked, realizing Noah must have called my name a few times. Heat crept up my neck. “Sorry, I was just...”
Noah squeezed my hand. “Thinking about him?” When I nodded, he pulled me closer, his solid frame grounding me. “We’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you or Ro. We have the cops and the pack guards. He can’t get to you here.”
The urge to apologize and downplay my fears rose in my throat. But I swallowed it back. Elaine had told me to stop invalidating my own feelings. So instead, I simply held Noah’s gaze and let myself lean on his strength.
“You’re right,” I said softly, mustering up a smile.
Sam’s car pulled up alongside the park. Ro’s face lit up, and he sprinted toward the vehicle.
Sam stepped out, his weathered face crinkling into a smile as Ro chattered animatedly about the remote-control car they’d been working on. He pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket and held it out to Ro.
“Look what I found, kiddo. The missing gear we needed.”
Ro practically vibrated with glee as he snatched the bag and held it aloft like a trophy. “Awesome. Thanks, Grandpa. Can we finish the car tonight? Please, please, please?”
Sam chuckled. “We’ll see. You ready to head out so your mom and Noah can get on with their plans?”
Ro’s smile dimmed a fraction, but he nodded. He darted back to us, crashing into me with a fierce hug. “Sorry I was naughty earlier, Mom,” he said into my sweater. “I’ll be good for Grandpa. I promise.”
My heart melted. “I know you will, baby. I love you.” I kissed the top of his head, savoring his warmth before I let him go.
Noah held out a fist. “Have fun with your grandpa, buddy. We’ll hang out again soon, yeah?”
Ro bumped his much smaller fist against Noah’s. “Yeah! Maybe you can help me with the car next time.”
“You got it.” Noah slipped an arm around my waist as we waved goodbye to Ro and Sam. As their car pulled away, he turned to me, his eyes soft. “So, still up for that curry? It’s a beautiful night for a walk.”
I leaned into his embrace, breathing in his comforting scent. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”
Noah pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text. “Just letting Mike know to take the car over to the restaurant.” A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “There are certain perks to being alpha.”
I snorted. “Oh, I’m sure. How long before you’ve got people picking your dirty socks up off the floor, huh?”
He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Hey, I’m not that bad,” He laced his fingers through mine as we began to stroll in the direction of the restaurant. “Though I can’t say I’d complain if someone else did my laundry once in a while.”
As we walked hand in hand, the streets of Boldercrest seemed to come alive around us. Laughter spilled from open windows, mingling with the distant strains of music and the chatter of passersby. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the promise of autumn.
Noah grinned at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of picking up after myself. I don’t put my clothes on the floor in the first place.”
I quirked an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh, so you’re telling me the alpha of the pack is secretly a neat freak?”
He chuckled, squeezing my hand gently. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He looked at me, his gaze burning into me. “But honestly, Zoey, I want you to know that being with me doesn’t mean you’ll be picking up after me or catering to my every whim. That’s not the kind of relationship I want.”
A thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach. “I know. I was just teasing. But I appreciate you saying that.”
We turned a corner, and The Spice of Life came into view, its colorful awning fluttering in the breeze. As we drew closer, the mouth-watering aromas of Indian cuisine wafted toward us, making my stomach grumble.
Noah inhaled deeply, a look of pure bliss crossing his face. “Mmm, can you smell that? Cumin, turmeric, coriander... I swear, there’s nothing better than the aroma of a good curry.”
I had to agree. The blend of spices was intoxicating, conjuring up images of simmering pots and sizzling tandoors. My taste buds tingled in anticipation of the feast to come.
As we entered the restaurant, I was immediately enveloped with the warmth and bustle of the dining room. Diners chattered animatedly over steaming plates of biryani and buttery naan while servers wove between the tables, balancing trays laden with fragrant dishes.
Noah guided me toward the hostess stand, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. His touch was so natural on my body, as if it was always meant to be there. Hell, everything with Noah felt natural.
A waiter showed us to a cozy table tucked away in the corner of the dining room. As we settled into our seats, I noticed the weariness etched on Noah’s handsome face.
“So, how was your day?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light. “You seem a bit tired.”
Noah sighed, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully.
“It’s difficult for me to talk about things that bother me,” he admitted. “But after how open you were with me last night, I feel like you deserve to know.”
I reached across the table, covering his hand with my own. “You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.” It was nice to say that to him after he’d told me the same thing so many times.
He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the table. “Things with my dad... they’re strained. I harbor a lot of feelings about his lack of interest in my life. It’s like we’re strangers when we’re together. It’s hard to be around him.”
My heart ached for him. l knew all too well the pain of a distant parent. My thoughts drifted to my mother and the chasm that had grown between us over the years.
“I understand,” I said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I have a distant relationship with my mother. It hurts, feeling like you’re not a priority in their life.”
His lips flattened into a thin line. “Exactly. I’ve tried to reach out, to build a connection, but it’s like hitting a brick wall. Sometimes, I wonder if he even cares about me at all.”
“Of course he cares,” I said, even as a part of me wondered if I truly believed my own words. “He’s your father. Perhaps he just doesn’t know how to show it.”
Noah shrugged. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.”
I wanted to take away his pain, to heal the wounds that his father’s neglect had left behind. But l knew from experience that some scars ran too deep for words alone to mend.