Chapter 67
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Savannah
Carry the Burden
Izzie and Tatum are sleeping, so I’m at the kitchen table, making the fixes my mom gave me on my book, resisting the urge to find Noah’s bedroom and learn all about him and his childhood, since this might be my only chance.
They lost the game tonight, though Lacey says Noah played well, but even if they’re just moping over beers at Slapshots…
I don’t want to be at home, living vicariously through my characters anymore, I want to be out there, taking chances and putting my heart on the line, because I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe properly since last weekend, and instead of blaming myself for putting myself out there, I’m wishing I’d had the courage to fight harder.
To argue when Noah said he didn’t have the time to make me a priority.
To take a moment to think and let him explain before running away from him, when I knew, even then, that the best thing to make me feel better would have been his arms.
There’s a knock on the door, but Mrs. Callahan warned me Doug might get home first, and he knocks before using his key, so I save my document and go check the little window to make sure before letting him in.
Only it’s Noah.
I assume he has the key, but he’s waiting on the doorstep, hands in his pocket, biting his bottom lip, like he knows I’m the one who’s here, and he’s letting me decide if he’s allowed in.
I take a deep breath, either to brace or calm myself, then open the door.
I want to get lost in his deep blue eyes. I want to jump into his arms and tell him to never let me go. I want a million other things in that vein, but instead I stand there staring at him, both of us caught in a game of who breaks the silence first.
“I’m sorry,” we both say eventually, at the same time, then let out one of those laughs that are more awkward than happy.
“I shouldn’t have assumed the worst without talking to you first. I know you would never do anything to hurt me.”
“I’d rather die,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t.”
I shiver and he takes off his sweatshirt, the same one I returned to him through Izzie, before I remember I’m holding the door, and invite him inside.
It won’t be cold anymore now the door is closed, but I still put on the sweatshirt he offers, because it smells like him, and it’s the closest I can get to a hug.
“When my dad died, my mom didn’t just stop coming to my games, she stopped functioning.
I took care of Izzie and kept it under wraps because I didn’t want her taken away, but I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself.
Even my mom. She gets better, but then she crashes, and I couldn’t trust anyone to carry the burden with me.
” He looks at me with so much pain in his eyes.
“She got mostly better after Tatum, but you were right, she won’t let Doug in, because she’s afraid to get hurt again, or to need someone, and I realized I was doing the same thing.
I’ve been doing my best to hold everything together.
My mom, my sister, the house, my brother… it was all on me.”
I want to reach out, to say something, or put my hand on his, which he’s nervously playing with in his lap, but I think he needs to get this out, so I wait.
“Making plans at the last minute after games, then hesitating when you invited me, that’s because losing puts me in a funk, and I don’t want to subject anyone to that, so I don’t reach out until I know how we did. Because if I’m not holding everything together, who will? It’ll all fall apart.”
“That’s not—”
“I know, but that’s how I felt. Like I was protecting you by staying away.
Keeping you at arm’s length as if that would prevent it from breaking me when I lost you.
Refusing to let you in because I couldn’t stand the idea of being with you, then having to do it on my own again.
But the thing is, if you love someone, you let them in, even on the bad days.
I want to be with you for all the good times.
And I won’t ever want to subject you to my moods during the bad times, but when the game ends, win or lose, all I want to do is find you.
Whenever anything happens to me, I want you.
And I don’t expect you to fix things or make them better, but also, just being with you does that.
Even if it didn’t that would be okay, because I think I’d rather be miserable beside you than alone, or even happy with anyone else. ”
I’m quiet, processing what he just said, my heart beating so fast I might be having a heart attack, but he isn’t done.
“I don’t ever want to burden you, Peaches, but you’re in my bones, and losing you wrecked me. I don’t want to pretend that you’re not…you’re my heart, Savannah. I love you so much I can’t breathe sometimes, and it scares the shit out of me, but not loving you is scarier.”
He leans forward and kisses me, like he couldn’t not, but pulls away sooner than I’d like, as if he isn’t sure he’s allowed to do that anymore, but I’m just glad I get to tell him, “I love you too.” I swallow.
He brings his hand to my cheek, his thumbs rubbing it, but in between kisses, he takes in my eyes, my lips, looking at me as if he’s worried I’ll disappear.
“I’m guessing you saw your mom?”
“I can’t believe you got her there.”
“I was worried she would hate me after, but I just…you deserve to have someone in your corner. All the time. I know I need to let you in and not keep things from you, but you shouldn’t have all that weight on your shoulders. You’re allowed to fall apart and ask for the things you need.”
“I’m seeing that,” he agrees. “Neither of us want to be seen as a burden.”
“I think maybe you’re not good at knowing what’s a burden.” I call back to when he tried to convince me I wasn’t inconveniencing him.
“Is that so?”
“Definitely. Hanging out with your sister, cheering for you at your games, baking, spending time with you…not even one of those things feels like a burden to me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do.” I smile before he kisses me again.
“We should…” I don’t know if I’m about to suggest we go to his bedroom or put a hold on things until we get somewhere else, but the kisses are no longer the slow, overjoyed to be back together ones anymore, they’ve grown hungry, and I don’t want his mom walking in on us like this.
“I might have convinced my mom to go talk to Doug,” Noah informs me.
“Because he’s madly in love with her?”
“And us Callahans need to start fighting for the people we love.”
“That’s all you do,” I point out.
“For you,” he specifies. “Not letting you run away again unless you have a damn good reason, which I don’t see happening.”
“I’m very okay with that.”
“The kids are sleeping?” he asks, nibbling at my earlobe, and I know he’s talking about his siblings that I was babysitting, but there’s a half-second where this is our future, making out on the couch after our kids are in bed, and I really don’t hate it.
Not that I’m in a hurry, and I think Noah deserves to enjoy what it feels like to not have so many responsibilities and the world on his shoulders, but God, someday I want all of it with him.
I nod, because he’s leaving kisses down my neck, and I’m pretty sure any words I tried to say would turn into moans anyway.
Noah scoops me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing and carries me towards the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Carrying you to my bedroom so I can show you how much I love you.”
I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing that.
“And how will you do that?”
“With my fingers,” he says, and suddenly one arm is supporting all my weight while the other caresses my cheek. “My tongue,” he continues before capturing my lips in a searing kiss that sends heat to my core. “And my…”
“Sh!” I warn as we pass his sister’s bedroom, but I cannot wait.