Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Noa
C arly’s waiting in front of my hotel when I pull in.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, shutting my car door. “And— how ?”
Carly holds up her phone in answer. “Find My Friends, friend. I can locate you anywhere, especially in a crisis where you have to leave town in order to save face.”
My head lolls back and I stare at the starry sky in exhaustion. Puffs of my exhale obscure the brilliant view. “The more I think about it, the more I wonder if running away fixes anything.”
Carly makes a sympathetic sound as she slips her arm around my waist, and we walk inside. “It’s probably one of those catch-22 situations. You can’t win either way, just do what’s best for you.”
“You sound like Mrs. Stalinski,” I say longingly. “I miss her.”
“Not as much as I’m sure you miss a cold glass of chardonnay. As your bestie, it’s my job to direct you to the nearest bar.”
My body angles toward her, agreeing with that notion before my mind does.
It’s been an exhausting day compounded by a demanding night—and capped off with a heavy decision.
It’s on my lips to unload on Carly, tell her about this crazy Paris opportunity that I didn’t see coming, but I stop myself, thinking it’s better to do this after a few sips of wine before I hear everything my lovely, opinionated friend has to say.
She isn’t here as my drinking buddy. Carly wants to dissect the breaking news today and Stone’s role in it. That alone will require some prolonged sips.
I’m not one to deny the friend that stood by me anything she wants to know, so I break the ice once we sit down and the hotel bartender takes our order.
The bar area has an old-fashioned vibe meant for the cigar-smoking men of old, with dark wood, brass finishings, and embellished mirrors behind rows of liquor.
“Did you read the article?” I ask.
“Did I read the article,” she repeats, snorting. “Hell yeah, I did. About twenty times. Say my favorite word to me, and I’ll get right on it.”
I respond with a small smile.
“C’mon,” she nudges. “Do it. Say it.”
“It’s not libel,” I admit, leaning back as far as I can on the barstool.
“Dammit. I meant for you to say it without canceling it out.”
“You were there. Everything this reporter wrote about is the truth.”
“I’d hardly call her a reporter. More like a Gossip Girl reject who probably has a lizard as a pet and plays online bingo in her spare time.”
The bartender sets our glasses down at the perfect time. I’m in the middle of quenching my stress when Carly bursts out with that line, and I nearly choke.
“Your loyalty is unmatched, even when it makes no sense,” I say after collecting myself. “But sadly, there’s nothing other than our mutual opinion of her to go on.”
“You’re annoyingly correct.” Carly rests her chin in her hands and sighs. “I turned that article upside-down and sideways. She alluded to an abortion, but not enough to sue. The joy of the First Amendment.” She lifts her wine. “Cheers to that.”
“Your support means a lot. And coming here when it’s completely out of your way.”
“Are you kidding? I’m here for you, Noa. Always. We’re there for each other, no matter what. So take another sip. Or gulp. Go on.” She tilts my glass farther when it reaches my lips. “Up, up, up. There we go. Now you can tell me how fucking Stone has fucked this day up further.”
I cough, pulling the glass away from my mouth. The bartender gives us the side-eye. Wiping the droplets with the back of my hand, I respond, “That’s all it was. Fucking. Very astute of you to notice.”
She makes a tsk sound. “Sorry, babe. Overruled.”
“You’re not a judge. You’re a lawyer.”
“I’m whoever I damn well want to be when probing into your sex life. Tell me the truth. That’s the only way we’ll get through this together.”
I chuckle, rubbing my eyes. I’m exhausted, famished, and uplifted by her presence. “I might’ve caught some feelings.”
“Some? More like the seeds of him that remained grew into a giant weed that’s overgrown and impossible to eradicate now.”
“Your analogies are wonderful.”
“The jurors love ’em. And you love Stone.”
I whip toward her, appalled. “Do not .”
“Stop bullshitting me, Noa. You can pretend to the town that you’ve moved on and bury yourself in a life of servitude because you blame yourself for your daughter’s death and not saving your mother, but I know the truth.
I can hear your heart a mile away, and it wants him.
Frankly, you never left him. Not really. ”
I sniff hard, refusing to let any more tears fall and hide my face behind my wine. “You don’t get to do that—say those things so easily, like I can be summed up in a sentence.”
“That’s not at all what I’m trying to do.
” Carly leans forward, her hair flashing into fire under the recessed lights.
Her eyes don’t contain the same flame. They simmer with low warmth.
“Maybe I’m quick to say it because I’m fully aware of how much it kills you to hear it.
But I was beside you on the bathroom floor.
I slept in the same bed as you for weeks.
It was my pre-mixed, burned, more rectangular than circular cookie that you ate after refusing meals for days.
Stone didn’t see any of it. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive him for that. ”
I exhale, leaning away. “I’ve learned it’s more complicated.
When it happened, I texted him and emailed his assistant.
That’s all I did. It never occurred to me what reading or hearing it might do to him.
I was convinced he forgot about me as soon as he passed the Welcome to Falcon Haven sign.
My contacting him was more closure for me, hoping that once I did I could move on, which, of course, I didn’t. ”
“He fucking deserved it.”
“No. I didn’t realize until we talked recently, and I looked back on his history.
He buried himself in work. Lost all emotion.
Married someone he barely knew, surrounded himself with people who didn’t care about William Stalinski and just wanted Stone William’s luck and money.
Does that sound like a man who didn’t care he lost a child? ”
“He didn’t call you. Didn’t talk to you about it.” Carly crosses her arms while flicking her gaze at the bartender for another round. “That’s the least he could’ve done. Not act like the prick he did.”
I nod. “And I could’ve told him why I stayed. Why I wasn’t going with him to LA. His whole life, people have left him, his dad being the first. He believed I didn’t give a shit about him, that I felt he wasn’t worth more than a text when we lost her.”
“What was he going to do if you gave birth to a healthy baby? I’m sorry, Noa, but I need to ask this if this is the direction you’re going. Her loss was?—”
“Convenient for him?” My voice cracks. “That’s what I thought, too, until we spoke. I may not have wanted him in my life, but he wanted to be a part of hers. He wanted to prove himself worthy.”
Carly purses her lips in thought. The bartender comes over, refreshing our glasses until Carly says, “Just give us the damn bottle,” and swipes it out of his hand.