Chapter 10
Noah
Ava sits backward on the chair opposite my vanity mirror, her chin resting on her forearms as she watches me hold different shirt collars against my throat.
“Why don’t you just rest?” she asks, her eyes tracking my movements in the glass. “You look like a zombie, Dad.”
I look over my shoulder, offering a raspy chuckle. “It’s fine. I’m as strong as a bull.”
“Yeah. And as ugly as a toad,” she says without blinking.
I turn back to the mirror, raising an eyebrow at her reflection. “Really now? A toad, huh?”
Ava rolls her eyes, shifting her weight as she points toward the hanger rail. “Go with all black. The monochromatic look always works for you.”
I look at the dark fabric, my throat feeling dry. “You think so?”
“Yes,” she says, tapping her chin. “And wear your photochromatic glasses. Your eyes are completely bloodshot, Dad. It will hide the redness.”
I nod, tracing the collar of a shirt. “What else?”
“Bring a flower,” she says, her voice dropping into a quieter rhythm. “And a handwritten letter. Mummy keeps all your old notes tucked safely inside that velvet memory box on her nightstand. She still reads them.”
A sudden warmth spreads behind my ribs, cutting through the heavy chill of the fever. I look at her through the glass. “Are you sure, Ava?”
“Yes,” she says, a sudden smirk breaking through her serious face as she twists the doorknob. She glances back over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose. “I would have given you a hug, but you might actually have the flu, so I’m just gonna go.”
The door clicks shut behind her, and a low, raspy laugh bubbles out of my chest. I shake my head at the empty room, my shoulders dropping as the echo of her teenage bluntness hangs in the quiet air.
I turn toward the bed where a single, fresh bloom rests on the duvet next to a sealed white envelope.
I slide the paper into my inner jacket pocket and pick up the flower, the small smile staying on my mouth. Hopefully, we sort it out tonight.
***
The headlights cut through the evening dusk as I pull up to the curb. When the front door opens, Lily steps onto the porch, and my breath catches completely. She is wearing a burgundy gown, the rich silk trailing down her ankles in a way that instantly takes me back to our college years.
I step out, opening the door for her as she slides into the passenger seat. The sweet scent of her vanilla perfume fills the small space, making my heart do a familiar flip.
She looks at my profile as I shift into drive. "Hey. You don't look well, Noah."
"I'm fine," I tell her, keeping my eyes on the road. "You look beautiful, Lily. Incredible, actually."
A faint color spots her cheeks, but she turns to look out the window. "How are the kids doing at the house?"
"They're good," I say, a small smile pulling at my mouth. "Ava basically picked out my clothes tonight. She gave me strict styling instructions."
Lily lets out a soft, genuine laugh. "Thirteen going on forty. I'm not surprised."
We pull up to the Italian bistro downtown.
The valet takes the keys, and I walk around to her side, holding the heavy door open.
As she steps out of the SUV, the cool night wind catches the hem of her burgundy gown, the silk snapping softly against her ankles.
I reach out, my palm guiding the small of her back as we navigate the concrete steps of the entrance.
Even through the fabric of her dress, the warmth of her skin hits my hand, a sharp reminder of everything I spent a year and four months missing.
The dining room inside is low-lit, the small tables illuminated only by slender candles that cast a soft glow across her collarbones. We sit opposite each other, and after the waiter pours our water and leaves, the silence between us grows thick.
I reach into my bag, pulling out three separate boxes, and set them onto the white tablecloth.
Lily looks down at the stack, her eyebrows drawing together. “Noah, what is this?”
“Three gifts,” I say, the fever making my chest feel warm. “One for each of the birthdays I missed.”
I push the smallest velvet box forward first. Inside is the specific shade of tinted lip gloss she had mentioned wanting months ago, the one she had teased me about needing to find for her.
Next to it, I slide a sleek Chanel handbag, and finally, a delicate gold necklace that catches the candlelight.
She touches the chain of the necklace, her fingers lingering on the metal. "You remembered the lip gloss?"
"I remembered," I say softly. "I'm trying to remember everything now."
She reaches for the small card tucked beside the boxes, sliding the thick paper out of the envelope. Her eyes scan the short, handwritten line inside: Will you forgive me?
Silence settles over the table, the candle flame flickering between us. Lily folds the card closed, her expression unreadable. “I’ll think about it,” she says softly.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For thinking about it."
The waiter returns with our plates, placing the pasta and grilled chicken breast between us.
"How is the new broadcast segment going?" I ask, taking a small forkful of food.
"It's busy," she says, looking up from her plate. "Colton is pushing for higher digital engagement. It takes a lot of coordination."
"You always were the best at handling the pressure behind the scenes," I tell her, meeting her gaze in the low light. "The studio is lucky to have you running the floor."
She captures my eyes for a long beat before looking back down. "You used to say the work was the only thing that mattered."
"I was wrong," I say, the honesty raw in my throat. "The work is just noise without you there to hear it."
We finish our meal in a quiet, comfortable peace, the old gridlock between us completely lifting as we talk about Nora's preschool and Liam's soccer matches.
***
The dashboard clock reads just past ten when I pull up to the curb outside her house. The engine idles in the quiet street.
Lily turns in the passenger seat, her eyes moving over the pale cast of my face. “You look like you got run over by a truck,” she notes, her voice carrying a trace of that old, protective strictness.
I let out a weak groan, my shoulders dropping. “Ouch.”
“Please make sure you actually take your medicine tonight,” she says, her fingers finding the metal clasp of her purse.
“You are so beautiful, Lily,” I murmur, the words spilling out before I can stop them. I look at her brown hair then I look at the rich color of her gown. “I love you so much. I want you back... more than anything. But then again, love leaves choices.”
I look down at the steering wheel, then back at her.
“You asked me in your office what would happen if you wanted me to sign those papers,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “If it is what you truly need... I will sign them. But I will chase you again, Lily. I won't stop.”
A small, genuine laugh breaks from her lips, the sound melting the last bit of tension in the vehicle.
I lean across the console, my eyes dropping to her mouth.
I want to kiss her. I want to feel the soft drag of her lips against mine until the sickness doesn't matter anymore.
But as I close the distance, Lily tilts her chin, moving her face away so my mouth catches only the smooth skin of her cheek instead.
“When I forgive you, we’ll talk,” she whispers against my ear, her breath warm against my skin. “And then we’ll see if we can kiss.”
I nod, accepting the boundary, and press a soft, lingering peck to her temple. “Fair enough.”
She opens the door and steps out onto the pavement, the burgundy silk rustling in the night air. I watch her walk up the path until the front door safely clicks shut behind her.
The moment her shadow disappears from the window, a harsh, ragged cough breaks through my chest, racking my whole body until I have to lean against the steering wheel. I shake my head, rubbing my warm forehead against the leather.
“It’s really the flu,” I mutter to the empty car.