Chapter 32
Noah
I’ve perfected the art of feigning interest in conversations that bore me.
The man in front of me has been talking for a solid fifteen minutes about offshore drilling regulations.
I smile and nod at all the right moments, hum my agreement, and keep my grip light on the champagne glass I’m not actually drinking from, all while trying to make sure my eyes aren’t glazed over in boredom.
Hannah’s hand is firmly gripped in mine, her fingers giving a gentle squeeze every now and then to keep me focused.
Her steady presence keeps my anxiety at bay.
My phone sits heavy in my jacket pocket, switched to silent with no vibration so I don’t get distracted, but I know Zac’s only a phone call away if I need him.
Grandad’s birthday feels like a corporate networking event, with Dad introducing me to important businessmen I couldn’t care less about, but I’m forced to make small talk and be on my best behaviour. I haven’t even seen Grandad since we arrived three hours ago.
We had an early dinner with him and Nan before everyone arrived, and Nan had taken Hannah’s hands across the table, gushing about how lovely it was to meet someone who has stolen my heart.
Grandad engaged her in conversation about her studies and her interests, and it was obvious he approves of the ambitious, strong-willed woman his grandson brought home.
Meanwhile, I sat there, smiling on cue and playing the part of a boyfriend madly in love, all the while weighed down by the guilt of lying to them and knowing we’ll be blowing everything up tomorrow when I come clean to Dad.
“Sorry, excuse us,” Hannah says when the man finally takes a breath. “Noah’s aunt is trying to get our attention.”
The lie is smooth, and he waves us off as his eyes scan the party for his next captive.
“You okay?” she murmurs as we move away.
“Yeah,” I say, leaning in to brush my lips over her temple. “Thanks.”
We stop beneath a tree in the shadowy outskirts of the yard, well away from the crowd. Fairy lights twinkle above us, but we’re essentially hidden here. I loosen my tie a fraction and close my eyes as I lean against the thick trunk.
“We’re almost there,” she says encouragingly.
“Almost.” I smile at her positivity despite the twisting in my gut.
She seems to read my mind. “Have you thought about how you’ll tell your dad?”
We spent the day exploring my hometown to avoid him, only returning home in time to get ready for the party.
I shake my head. “No matter how I do it, it won’t be pretty. I’m sorry for dragging you into this and subjecting you to whatever hateful things my father spews at me.”
“Noah,” she sighs, cupping my cheek. “I wish you’d stop apologising. I may not be your real girlfriend, but I am your friend, and I love you. You deserve to be seen for who you are. I’m here to make sure that happens.”
Emotion clogs my throat, and I swallow to clear it.
“It won’t be easy, and it probably won’t be pretty,” she admits, “but you will survive this. You have me, Zac, and your teammates back in Beckford. You have people in your corner, Noah. We’ll all support you no matter what happens with your dad.”
My stomach knots, knowing she’s right. Dad won’t make this easy on me, and I can only imagine the hateful things he’s going to say, but I’m so tired of fighting who I am.
I pull her into my arms, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “Thanks, Hannah. I needed to hear that.”
A throat clears, and my head snaps up to see my grandad standing a few feet away, his shrewd eyes studying the two of us.
Samuel Bentley is a handsome yet imposing man, with his silver hair neatly combed back and silver-framed glasses perched on his nose.
His expression is unreadable with the shadows crossing his face, and my pulse ticks up, wondering how long he’s been standing there.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, his voice measured. “Hannah, I was wondering if I could steal my grandson for a moment?”
Hannah’s eyes meet mine in a silent question, and I give her an almost imperceptible nod. “Of course, sir,” she says with a polite smile. “I’ll go grab a drink.”
We watch her leave, the familiar swell of anxiety rising in my stomach the farther away she gets.
“She’s a lovely girl,” Grandad says, pulling my attention back to him.
“Yeah,” I say thickly. “She is.”
He nods, his expression turning thoughtful. “She makes you happy?”
I stare at him, unsure what to say. It doesn’t feel right to lie straight to his face.
When I don’t say anything, he smiles sadly. “You don’t look at her the way you used to look at Nathan.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I reach for the tree trunk to steady me. “You knew?”
He nods. “It was obvious, the way you two gravitated towards each other. It was like everyone else ceased to exist. What happened between you? I never understood why Nathan left when you both had such bright futures in the company.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes.
Grandad knew about me and Nathan this whole time.
“W-why didn’t you ever say anything?” I choke out.
His brow furrows. “I thought you’d tell us when you were ready. But then Geoff quit the company, and Nathan moved away. Is that why you transferred to Beckford? For a fresh start after Nathan left?”
My vision blurs as I struggle to draw a breath. None of this makes sense.
Dad said Grandad would disown me if he ever found out about me, that it would shatter everything he built, that I’d be the shame no money could ever bury. Now I’m standing here, heart hammering, realising Grandad knew who I was all along, and he’s not ashamed.
He’s not angry; he looks as confused as I feel.
All this time I’ve been terrified of bringing shame to my family, but Grandad knew. Not only that, he supported my relationship with Nathan. He was waiting for me to be ready to tell him.
“You knew,” I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks. “This whole time. You knew.”
“Noah…” Grandad reaches for me, but I stumble back, putting my hand up to stop him. “Talk to me. I don’t understand.”
Releasing a shuddering breath, I tell him everything—about Nathan, about Dad, about the fear of what would happen to me if I didn’t fall in line with his expectations.
Grandad doesn’t interrupt once, but sadness clouds his eyes as he listens.
When I admit the suffocating guilt I’ve carried, knowing I’m the reason Nathan’s life was torn apart, my voice breaks.
Grandad exhales slowly.
“Where does the lovely Hannah come into all of this?”
I swallow. “Dad wouldn’t let up. He kept pushing, watching, and telling me to fall into line. Hannah agreed to be my fake girlfriend so he’d leave me alone.” My chest tightens. “I can’t breathe, Grandad. This life, the pretending, it’s suffocating me. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Nor should you have to,” he says without hesitation.
“Why is it so bad?” I whisper, rubbing my hands over my face, my frustration and grief tangling together. “Why is loving a man treated like it’s something shameful? Like I’m broken?”
He steps forward, and this time, I don’t stop him. I fall into his embrace like a little kid, my shoulders trembling. “It isn’t bad,” he says firmly, squeezing the back of my neck as I cling to him. “You love who you love. There’s nothing wrong with that. There never has been.”
A sob tears out of me before I can stop it.
“Then why can’t Dad accept me? Why does he hate the idea of me being with a man so much?”
Grandad’s shoulders sag as he sighs. “I have my suspicions, but that’s something you’ll need to talk to him about.
The important thing is that you hear this, and you believe it.
” He pulls away, resting his hands on my shoulders and cupping the back of my neck.
Tears shine in his eyes as he meets my gaze.
“You have my full support, Noah. Always.”
My heart pounds, but for the first time, it isn’t fear driving it. It’s courage.
“There’s someone else,” I say softly. “Back home in Beckford. His name’s Zac. He—”
“Noah!”
Hannah’s voice is sharp with panic as she sprints towards us, phone clenched in her hand.
Dread blooms fast and violently in my chest.
“It’s Zac,” she says, breathless. “There’s been a car accident. He’s in hospital.”
The world tilts.
I reach into the breast pocket for my phone, almost dropping it.
The screen lights up with numerous missed calls from Zac’s dad and Jasper, dozens of text messages from Milly, and one from Zac about two hours ago.
I click on it, my breath catching in my throat when I see the selfie of him sitting on my bed, that sexy, lop-sided smile pasted on his face that makes my pulse pick up every time I see it.
Zac: Miss you.
Grandad’s hand clamps onto my shoulder, grounding me.
“Go,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll have a car take you to the airfield. The jet will be ready and waiting for you.”
“But Dad—”
“Don’t worry about your father,” Grandad says, his voice steady as he motions for Hannah to lead me through the back gate and down the side of the property, away from the prying eyes of his guests. “We can talk later. You need to be there for him. Go.”