Chapter 52
FIFTY-TWO
noia
Morning comes way too fast, forcing me to admit yesterday wasn’t just a bad dream.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and call Sasha, who answers on the third ring.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Jeez, her voice is annoyingly chipper in the morning.
“Ryder left,” I blurt, my voice cracking as tears threaten to spill over again.
“Whoa, back up. What happened?”
I fill her in on all of it: hide and seek, my stupid decision to control his actions, and how he showed up at the ass-crack of dawn after riding all night to tell me he needed space.
“He just... left?” Sasha sounds as stunned as I feel.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “I deleted everything I wrote, even though I was scared he would disappear, but he came back. His stuff was still in the closet after he left.”
“Have you checked again this morning? Like, are you sure his stuff is still there? Because the way his things have been appearing outta nowhere since he showed up makes me think things could disappear just as easily.”
My heart stops. “Hold on.”
Phone to my ear, I rush downstairs to Ryder’s room.
The closet is empty.
All his clothes, his boots, everything—gone.
“It’s all gone,” I whisper, sinking to my knees. “Everything. Like he was never here.”
“Okay, don’t panic.” Sasha’s voice is calm and steady. “You need to call him. Right now.”
“But what if he’s gone for good? What if deleting everything I wrote about him made him and everything about him disappear?”
“Noia, listen to me,” she says firmly. “Take a deep breath and call him. If he doesn’t answer, leave a message and give him some time to call you back. Trust he’s real and that he’s not just going to vanish into thin air.”
“Okay.” My voice sounds small. “I’ll call you back.”
Taking a deep breath, I hang up with Sasha and call Ryder. It rings three times before it goes to voicemail.
The sound of his voice sends a sharp pang through my chest and I wait for the beep.
“Hey, Rye.” My traitorous voice is shaking. “I just... I noticed all your things are gone, and I... Please call me back. Let me know you’re still... here.”
I hang up and sit on the floor of the empty closet, hugging my knees to my chest.
Goonie comes in, meowing and rubs against my legs.
“I really screwed up, pudge,” I whisper. Using Ryder’s nickname for him makes my heart twist. I pull him into my lap, burying my face in his tummy.
I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, lost in my own misery, when a loud, insistent knock at the front door startles me back to reality.
“Ryder?”
Heart pounding, I scramble to my feet, ignoring the pins and needles shooting through my legs as I rush to the door.
Halfway there, another knock comes, and then the doorbell.
“Coming!”
Hope blooms in my chest as I fling the door open, only to freeze in shock.
“Hey, Noia.”
Perfectly groomed in his designer suit, reddish-blonde hair styled just so, Eric’s smile is as practiced and polished as ever.
“What the fuck?” I grip the doorframe, suddenly light-headed. “What are you doing here?”
He has the audacity to look hurt. “I come to surprise you and that’s how you choose to speak to me?”
I sputter, anger rising to replace shock. “Are you seriously asking me that? You left me at the altar without a word, and now you just show up at my door unannounced?!”
His smile falters slightly, but he recovers quickly. “I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. I know I have a lot to explain.” He shifts his weight, looking nervous. “Can I come in? Please?”
Every instinct is screaming at me to slam the door in his face, but curiosity and a lingering need for answers, has me stepping aside.
“Five minutes,” I say coldly. “Then you need to leave.”
“Thank you.” He steps inside and looks around. “The place looks good. Different than I remember.”
I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly aware I’m still wearing Ryder’s oversized T-shirt. Hope blooms in my chest again. Maybe he hasn’t disappeared after all.
“Clock’s ticking, Eric.”
Eric’s eyes narrow, gaze lingering on the T-shirt that clearly doesn’t belong to me. “Look, I know I owe you an explanation.”
“Then get to it.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I messed up,” he says finally. “Leaving you hanging like that... it was a big mistake.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re a few months too late for that revelation. You left me behind and didn’t even have the decency to tell me to my face.”
“I know.” He takes a step toward me, and I instinctively take a step back. “But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of soul-searching.”
“Soul-searching?” I repeat incredulously. “Since when have you ever been one to ‘soul-search’? You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. It just took you leaving for me to realize it.”
“I deserve that,” he says sheepishly. “But I’m here now because I want to make things right. I want another chance.”
The sheer audacity almost leaves me speechless. “Are you being serious right now?”
He reaches for my hand, but I yank it away. “I panicked. I know it was unforgivable, but—”
“But what? What could possibly justify what you did?”
“I got scared.” He shrugs. “Our relationship moved so fast, and suddenly there was a wedding and all these expectations...” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just needed time to think.”
“What is it with men needing time to think?” I murmur to myself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Are you done?”
He takes a step closer, trying to close the distance between us. “I still love you, Noia.”
Words that once would have sent my heart soaring, leave me feeling nothing. I study his face—the face I once thought I’d wake up to every morning for the rest of my life—and still feel absolutely nothing.
“Why are you really here, Eric?” I sigh, exhaustion taking over.
His expression shifts, and I catch a glimpse of something else in his eyes. “Your agent mentioned you’ve been having some... difficulties with the new manuscript.”
And there it is. Eric works for my publisher, so either my agent or someone else must have filled him in.
Heads are going to roll.
“So that’s what this is about,” I say, voice tight with anger. “My book. Of course.”
“It’s not just that,” Eric protests, taking another step toward me. “I miss you. We were good together.”
I back up until the edge of the kitchen island presses into my back. “We were never good together. You just liked having a bestselling author on your arm at publishing events.”
His expression darkens. “That’s not fair. I supported your career.”
“Oh, come on! It’s obvious it was all just a business transaction.”
He moves even closer, invading my personal space. “I made a mistake. People make mistakes.”
“Back. Off,” I warn, placing my palm against his chest.
He grabs my wrist. “Noia, please. Just listen to me.”
In the distance, I swear I hear the rumble of a motorcycle engine. My heart leaps with hope, distracting me.
Seizing the opportunity, Eric lunges forward and smashes his mouth against mine.
“Mmph!” I struggle for a moment before I’m able to twist my head away. “Get. Off. Me!”
His hands grip my waist, pinning me against the island. “Come on, Noia. I know we can fix this,” he insists, trying to recapture my mouth.
Panic floods my brain and I shove hard against his shoulders, but he won’t budge.
“I said no!” I screech, shoving my knee up into his balls.
Just as Eric doubles over with a high-pitched yelp, clutching himself, the front door crashes open with a bang.