Chapter 55
FIFTY-FIVE
noia
It’s been a week since Ryder left.
A week of texts that say nothing more than “I’m still here,” “Good morning,” or “Sleep tight, kitten.”
A week of staring at my laptop, unable to write a single word.
“That’s it,” I announce. Goonie, who’s sprawled across my desk like a furry paperweight, chirrups up at me. “I’m done.”
No more writing. No more obsessing over Ryder. No more waiting by the phone.
I need a break. From all of it.
Two hours later, I’m walking into Serenity Day Spa.
The receptionist greets me with a smile and checks her computer. “Full day package?” she confirms.
“Yes, please. Massage, facial, mani-pedi, the works.” I hand over my credit card. “And any add-ons you’ve got.”
“Excellent.” Her smile widens. “We’ll start with a detoxifying mud wrap.”
By the time I leave the spa five hours later, I feel like a new woman—relaxed, pampered, and more centered than I have been in weeks. On the drive home, I stop at the bookstore to load up on some new reading material. Needing a break from romance, I grab a few mystery-thrillers.
The next day, I sign up for yoga classes at a studio the next town over. The instructor, a woman named Maya, welcomes me with a warm smile.
“First time?” she whispers as she helps me adjust my downward dog.
“That obvious, huh?” I grunt, doing my best to keep my heels on the mat.
She chuckles. “Everyone has to start somewhere. Just breathe through it and don’t force anything.”
Three days into my new routine, I’m sitting cross-legged on my yoga mat at home when my phone rings. It’s my agent, Amanda.
“Hey! I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” she says, exasperated. “The publisher is getting anxious about the manuscript. Are you almost done?”
Side stepping her question, I cut straight to the chase. “Did you tell Eric where I was?”
Her silence says it all.
“Noia, I—”
I barely manage to keep my voice calm. “You did, didn’t you?”
“He was worried about you,” she defends. “And the publisher needed updates.”
“I trusted you.” I take a deep breath and center myself. “You’re fired.”
“What? You can’t be serious—”
“I’ll be looking for new representation, and possibly a new publisher.”
“Noia, please don’t do this.” Amanda’s voice is high-pitched with panic. “You need me. You can’t just walk away from your contract.”
“Watch me.”
A strange sense of freedom sings in my veins after I hang up and toss my phone onto the couch. I lie back on my yoga mat, staring up at the ceiling. The decision I just made should terrify me, but instead, I feel strangely liberated.
No more deadlines from publishers who only care about the bottom line. No more agents betraying my trust. No more writing what’s expected of me.
Wait.
I pop up, struck by an idea so clear and perfect it almost takes my breath away.
“That’s it!” I scramble to my feet, startling Goonie from his nap on the windowsill. “I’m going to start over.”
I race into my bedroom and fire up my laptop. For the first time in months, new words pour out of me effortlessly as I plot an outline for a new series—a quartet of novels following four women who discover they have extraordinary abilities.
“No more perfect heroes with their perfect abs saving the day,” I say aloud to myself as I begin to type. “I’m going to write about strong, complex, flawed women who save themselves—and maybe the world while they’re at it.”
My fingers fly across the keyboard. Kira is a former military pilot who discovers she can manipulate electromagnetic fields after surviving a plane crash caused by a lightning strike. She’s fierce, flawed, and determined to use her new powers to protect those who can’t protect themselves.
Three hours later when I finally come up for air, I’m shocked to find I’ve outlined three books and written the first chapter. My body might be stiff from sitting for so long, but my mind is alive with possibilities.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, scrolling through what I’ve written. “This is really good.”
I grab my phone and pull up the contact information for Jasmine Torres, an independent publisher I met at a conference last year who specializes in fantasy and sci-fi with strong female protagonists.
Before I can second-guess myself, I hit call.
“Jasmine Torres.”
“Hi, Jasmine. This is Noia Wilde. We met at the Salt Lake Book Festival last year? I was wondering if you might have time to discuss a potential new project.”
Forty-five minutes later, I’ve scheduled a Zoom meeting for tomorrow morning to pitch my new series.
I dance around the kitchen, feeling lighter than I have in months. For the first time in a long time, I feel completely in control of my life.
Jasmine’s enthusiasm during our meeting the next morning takes me by surprise.
“I love this concept, Noia.” Her eyes are bright with excitement. “Especially the idea of a series focused on women with extraordinary abilities who aren’t defined by their romantic relationships.”
“Thank you.” I can’t stop smiling. “I’ve been playing it safe for too long, writing what was expected of me rather than what truly inspires me.”
“Well, I’m thrilled you reached out. I’d love to see more once you have it. Would you be comfortable sending me the first three chapters when they’re ready?”
“Absolutely.”
After we hang up, I practically float around the house. Even Goonie picks up on my mood, racing around the living room like a furry tornado.
“This calls for a celebration,” I tell him, grabbing my purse. “I’m going to get us some treats.”
I grab my purse and head into town. The weather is sunny with just enough breeze to keep it from being too hot. I roll down the windows as I drive, singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs.
The grocery store is first on my list, followed by the post office and the hardware store for some supplies to fix the leaky bathroom faucet.
My phone rings as I’m walking back to my car, arms loaded with bags.
“Hey, Sash.” Juggling my phone and groceries, I unlock the trunk.
“How’d your meeting go?”
“Amazing!” I load the bags into the trunk. “Jasmine loved my pitch. She wants to see the first three chapters as soon as I’m finished.”
“I knew she would.” Her voice is full of pride. “I have a feeling this is going to be the fresh start you need.”
“I haven’t felt this excited about writing in... gosh, I don’t even know how long.” I slam the trunk closed and start walking down the sidewalk, eager to stop at the coffee shop for an iced latte before heading home. “It’s like everything just clicked into place.”
“Tell me more about this series. Super-powered women saving the day sounds badass.”
I launch into an explanation, describing each of the four main characters and how their stories will interconnect.
“God, I love it so much,” Sasha gushes. “It’s so... you. The real you, not the one that’s been trying to please everyone else.”
“That’s exactly how it feels.”
“Any word from Ryder?”
I sigh, my good mood dimming slightly. “Just the usual texts. But honestly? I’m okay. I mean, I miss him, but I’m not falling apart anymore. I’ve got my own life to live, you know?”
“That’s my girl. Independent woman and all that shit.”
There’s something to be said about distraction, and love is definitely one of them.
I glance up and my heart stutters to a stop.
Across the street, Ryder is standing outside Skin & Ink.
My heart starts up again, skipping several beats as I take him in. He looks good wearing a white T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders and tight faded jeans. His hair is a bit longer, curling slightly at the nape of his neck.
As if sensing my presence, he glances up. Our eyes lock and the world seems to fade away.
“Noia? You still there?” Sasha’s voice sounds distant in my ear.
“I gotta go,” I say absentmindedly, never breaking eye contact with the man across the street. “I’ll call you later.”
Pulse racing, I hang up without waiting for a response.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and I answer it with one of my own.
Eager to close the distance between us, I start across the street. When I’m halfway across, Ryder’s expression shifts to one of alarm as his eyes widen and he throws up a hand.
“NOIA, LOOK OUT!”
Confused, I turn my head to see a flash of red as the sound of screeching tires and the blare of a horn fills my ears before the pain takes over.
Then, voices, distant and distorted, start filtering through the black void.
“...need an ambulance...”
“...don’t move her...”
“...bleeding from her head...”
Something warm and wet trickles down my face, and I try to open my eyes, but my lids are too heavy.
“Noia! Baby, can you hear me?”
A siren screams as Ryder’s voice, frantic and broken briefly cuts through the haze. Someone is holding my hand and squeezing it.
“Stay with me, kitten. Please stay with me.”
I want to respond, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate. The darkness is pulling me under again.
The last thing I hear before I slip into complete darkness is Ryder’s voice, thick with emotion.
“I love you. Please don’t leave me.”