New York, New York #3
AJ wished then that she hadn’t come. She wished she had left her stupid hand out of sight. And she wished she weren’t suddenly on the verge of tears. This was an actual horror show.
“I gave it back,” she said finally.
Noah’s eyes went round. “You’re not—”
AJ’s cheeks burned but she forced herself to look at him.
She shook her head. And in that instant, the air between them electrified.
Noah was gazing at her as though she’d only just appeared, as if her face had suddenly come into focus.
Slowly he reached for her, opening her fist to examine the bare knuckle.
At the brush of his fingers AJ’s heart clutched.
“Did he hurt you?” Noah’s eyes were on their hands, his long lashes shading his cheekbones.
“No, Brian—Brian’s a good guy,” AJ heard herself say. “He deserves someone who actually loves him, and he was never going to have that with me. It just wasn’t fair.”
Noah’s face was unreadable. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out,” he said carefully. “I’m…sure they will next time.”
The words felt like a cold snap. AJ laughed a little.
Noah frowned. “What?”
There isn’t going to be a next time. “Nothing.”
As their eyes locked, their hands automatically opened against each other’s. Noah’s touch was familiar and shocking and AJ was a heartbeat from doing something truly reckless.
She willed herself to stand, to cross the room. She stared at her own silhouette in the French doors. Outside of Noah’s warmth, she felt a draft and folded her arms across her chest.
“Allison will be back soon.” She forced herself to speak her name.
For a beat, Noah didn’t respond. Then, “No, she won’t.”
AJ must have misheard him. “Sorry, what?”
“She’s on her way to the airport.”
Slowly AJ turned around. Noah had risen to his feet.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Noah’s hands slid into his pockets. “We’re not together.”
Every muscle in AJ’s body went rigid. Slowly, Noah stepped from behind the table.
“We had a brief thing, years ago,” he said evenly.
“Allison was getting over her first girlfriend, and I needed to…This was right after Into the Blue. It was super casual, and we wound up staying friends. Then eventually, we were cast together, and the media got so hooked on the idea of us being a couple we just…let them run with it. We sold a lot of Byron tickets that way.”
AJ’s temples were buzzing. “But you said—”
“I know.”
AJ shook her head. “No. She was here. She knows Mrs. Gilroy.”
Noah shrugged. “We’re friends.”
There were tears in AJ’s eyes now. “At the Oscars,” she bit out. “You thanked the woman in your life. Said you loved her.”
Noah fixed her with his stare. “I wasn’t talking about Allison.”
For a second, all was still except the ticking of the grandfather clock.
“Are you kidding?” said AJ quietly.
Noah swallowed. He shook his head.
AJ’s hands fisted, anger blistering through her. “Are you fucking kidding?”
He took another step forward. “Age—”
“You humiliated me,” shouted AJ, her eyes stinging. “You told me you felt sorry for me.”
“I was trying to do the right thing,” said Noah hotly, his cheekbones and neck flushed.
“What was I supposed to say? ‘I rearranged my entire year to spend a few hours looking at you, but you’re better off with Brian’?
‘I put my hand through a wall the day I saw that ring, but hang on to it because I have nothing better to offer you’? For fuck’s sake.”
A vision of his bandaged knuckles surfaced in AJ’s mind, but she shoved it aside. “You lied to me,” she said, advancing on him. He towered over her, but she was too livid to care.
Noah glared at her. “I had to,” he fumed. “You’re in complete fucking denial that I’m sick. You won’t hear a word about it. That night, you practically begged me to tell you it was all because of Allison. So I did. I couldn’t let you throw away your future.”
AJ’s entire body was vibrating. “I am not in denial.”
“Oh yeah?” said Noah, stepping forward. “How will you feel when I’m not big and strong anymore? When I’m not smart or capable?” His eyes were intent on hers, his mouth a rueful curve. “You haven’t thought about it, Age. I told you everything and you just…buried it.”
AJ gaped at him.
In a flash, she remembered the look on his face outside Blue Con, how disappointed he’d been. You just couldn’t do it, could you? She’d been eager, she realized. So very eager to believe it was anything else. Because if Noah did love her, and they still weren’t together, he truly was…sick.
She felt him watch her admit this to herself now.
Noah ran his hand over his face. “It’s a pretty standard response.”
His tone cut through AJ’s anger. She had hurt him, and she understood why. She was now the only living person who knew his reality, and she had made him feel erased. AJ covered her mouth to think. When she looked up, Noah was staring at a bleach spot on the rug.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her hand. “I know you have HD. I…I read about it sometimes when I miss you. I’m always on alert. Whenever you do anything impulsive, it’s…on my mind.”
Hearing this seemed to get his attention. He looked up. “I miss you too,” he said with difficulty. “Sometimes, I—” He closed his mouth, and AJ watched his nostrils flare as he bit back whatever he’d been about to say. The clock ticked almost a full minute as he mastered himself.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said at length, his tone reserved. “You deserve someone who can give you children. Grandchildren. Someone you can grow old with.”
AJ thought of Libby’s crumbling marriage, of Patrick and Elle. Love is always a risk.
“Noah,” she said gently. “None of us are guaranteed old age, or any of that.”
“Yes,” said Noah, his voice breaking. “But with me you won’t even have a shot at it.”
AJ couldn’t breathe. “But I’d have you.”
Noah’s eyes welled instantly. “You’ll change your mind. You will. When you see what’s going to happen, you’ll—”
AJ shook her head. “This isn’t some decision I’m making,” she said. “It’s who I am. I’ve tried to want other things. I literally tried to marry myself off. But I couldn’t do it.”
Noah flinched. “You still might—”
AJ closed her eyes. “Stop, please,” she said. She peered into his dear, dear face. “You are it for me. It is what it is. You don’t have to like it, but just…lay off, okay?”
Noah took a fast breath, his eyes brimming. He looked down at the carpet again, wrestling with himself. When he spoke, his expression was severe.
“What about kids?”
AJ’s mouth went dry. “I don’t want kids,” she said, admitting it out loud for the first time.
Noah tilted his head as if he hadn’t quite heard her. “When did that happen?”
AJ tried to swallow. “I think I started to realize watching my sister-in-law last year,” she said.
“But honestly, if opting out was more the norm, it probably never would have occurred to me to have them. I’ve thought about it a lot and the responsibility is really real to me.
Maybe too real. I just…don’t want it. I didn’t have a super-joyful bond with my own parents, so I’m sure that’s in the mix.
But yeah. Whatever that thing is that makes other people want kids… it’s not in me.”
Noah’s brow creased as he absorbed this information. AJ searched him, trying to get any read at all on his energy—nothing. He swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”
Her eyes filled. “Does it matter?”
Noah lifted his gaze, and for a brief instant, his face shone wild with possibility.
“If you really don’t want to be a mom, then maybe we could—” he started, and AJ’s heart seized.
Then a shadow fell across his features. His expression went blank.
“No,” he said, shaking himself. “No. This isn’t the plan.”
AJ blinked, disoriented. “The plan?” With a start, she realized he was referring to the same plan he’d outlined in L.A.—the one that precluded long-term relationships, children, and advanced HD symptoms.
The one that resulted in him killing himself.
AJ’s heart rate surged, blood rising to her face. “Is Oregon still part of the plan?”
Noah’s eyes were burning. “Yes,” he said finally.
AJ shook her head. “No,” she said, and immediately felt a sob gather in her chest. She forced it back down. “For fuck’s sake,” she whispered.
Noah glared at her. “This isn’t up for debate.”
Cold fury detonated through AJ like a blast of liquid nitrogen, and in that instant, time slowed.
Even if she couldn’t sense him minute by minute, she knew what was inside. That black mass, yes—and caged deep within it, his love and his hope. AJ would have bet her life that those hounds were raising hell right now, whaling on the inside of that great glass dome.
And she was going to break them out, whatever it took.
“There it is,” she said, stepping toward him.
Noah gave her a forbidding look. “What?”
AJ held his gaze. “Your game,” she said. “The Noah Drew Dies Alone game.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “Hey, Age,” he said. “You might want to be careful. You’re starting to talk out of your ass.”
“Am I?” she said, inching forward. “We once sat together, not a mile from here, and you told me that having closeness didn’t feel like your life. That you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That having to leave felt inevitable.”
This enraged him. AJ could see his temple throb. “AJ,” he said warningly.
“Noah,” she retorted, stepping closer. “Be honest. When you were diagnosed, was a little part of you secretly vindicated? Like, yeah, it’s devastating, but it must have felt a little good to be so right. To have your proof. To be able to say, definitively, you’d be alone for the rest of your life.”
Noah seethed, his massive shoulders heaving, his cheeks redder than AJ had ever seen them. His eyes were on fire. “Stop talking now.”
AJ smiled. “Oh, right, it’s ‘not up for debate,’ ” she said blithely. “My bad. I mean, why would anyone give up all that yummy certainty? Seems like a fair trade for your entire life.”