39. Dorian - October
THIRTY-NINE
Dorian - October
I FOUND - AMBER RUN
I paced the small living room. The conversation with Noah kept replaying in my mind, each word she said ricocheting off the walls of my mind, refusing to let me forget.
I can’t do this right now.
Her voice still echoed, laced with that quiet panic, her vulnerability on display in the tremble of her words. I could see it in her eyes—the worry, the careful way she’d tried to distance herself, pulling away before I had the chance to push her away first.
She put everything out there, faced the truth head-on, and I stepped back. I couldn’t handle it. Instead, I fumbled.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to push the knots of frustration and fear from my mind.
I thought about how I’d failed to protect the people I loved. My mom, Hallie, Dotty, and all the promises I made to Gracie. I swore to keep her safe and from experiencing any more pain. And now… now I was facing the real possibility of losing someone else.
I needed to protect Noah. I needed to keep her safe from the danger surrounding her.
But was keeping her at arm's length the best way to do that? Was it enough to just keep her out of my heart, out of the danger I feared?
That pull.
It was like an invisible thread, winding its way around my chest, tightening with every glance, every laugh she shared. Every time her eyes met mine, it was as if the world shifted. There was an undeniable force drawing me to her, something I couldn’t explain, something that felt like it had always been there, waiting for me to notice. And I was so damn tired of pretending I didn’t feel it—tired of holding on to the fear that had kept me from reaching for what I wanted most.
She was right. I didn’t want to be the guy who wasted his life hiding from what mattered, who let the fear of loss keep him from something real.
I couldn’t keep letting fear rule my decisions, either.
I needed to be honest with myself. I needed to admit what I already knew—that I wanted her. Not in some fleeting, casual way, but fully. All in.
But even as that truth began to hit, another wave of doubt crept in. What if I was too late? What if I’d already fucked this up too badly?
I couldn’t push her away again. Not after everything. I needed to hear her voice, to tell her I was ready, that I wanted more, that I was done running from what we both needed.
I grabbed my phone, my hands shaking as I clicked her number, but it went straight to voicemail.
I looked out the window. The rain was coming down hard, the sound of it pounding against the glass—a reflection of the turmoil inside my head.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration clawing at me. This wasn’t how I wanted things to end. I needed to fix this, to let her know.
The knock on the door broke through my thoughts. My heart jumped.
I moved toward the door, every step heavy, my chest tight with anticipation. I pulled it open, and the sight of Noah standing there, soaked to the bone, took my breath away. Her tears glistened, shimmering in the dim porch light.
“Noah?” My voice cracked, unsure if it was the moment of relief or the final blow.
I stepped back, instinctively opening the door wider. She crossed the threshold as water pooled at her feet.
She was here.
And for the first time, I was ready to let her in.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
My chest squeezed as I took in her in. Her small frame was trembling.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Flat tire.”
“Come on, let’s get you dried off.”
I led her into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamps illuminated the space, pushing aside the conversation we needed to have.
I disappeared into another room to grab an extra set of my clothes. They’d be huge on her, but it was better than what she had on. I returned, handing them to her.
“Here.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, meeting my eyes. “For this”—she held up the clothes—“and for letting me in. I wasn’t sure if you’d tell me to leave.”
“You can always come here,” I replied, stepping closer.
“Can I though?”
“Of course,” I said, my own heart pounding so loudly in my head it made it hard to speak.
I opened my mouth to tell her how deeply I felt for her, but the truth was messy.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I finally whispered, feeling the helplessness creep in.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and I could see the change in her expression—a mixture of understanding and frustration.
“Me either,” she admitted.
“I tried to call you. Just a few minutes ago.”
“My phone is dead.”
“Oh.”
“What were you going to say?” she asked hesitantly.
“That I’m done fighting this.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
“I’m done, I’m done trying to fight this. I want you. I really fucking want you, and not in the I only want to fuck you kind of way. I mean I also do want to fuck you, but—” I paused, knowing my words were coming out faster than I could comprehend. “I’ve wanted this since you fell apart in my arms months ago at the hospital. Hell, even before that, if I’m being honest, but I don’t want to risk you in the process. I don’t want to risk dragging you into my chaos.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and I could see the realization wash over her. “I want to be part of your chaos,” she said, each word a challenge that struck deep within me. “I want to be here for you, but you have to let me in.”
I pressed on, feeling a rush of emotion spilling out. “I don’t want to run anymore. I’ve been running away from things that made me feel for far too long. I’m terrified of everything that’s happened in the past, but I also don’t want to let it have control over me anymore.”
Noah was fighting this same battle, no doubt these same thoughts going on in her head, but she was the first to admit it, to dare to ask for more.
“Do you want this? You really want us?” I asked, desperately trying to keep my face composed while my mind whirled with possibilities.
Each word was a weight lifted off my shoulders, a chain breaking free. Her face lit up, her smile striking me right in the gut.
“Yes, I do.” A small chuckle-sob escaped her lips, and I felt my heart soar. She placed her hand on my chest, and I fought to stay on my feet. “I’m scared of something happening, to me, to you or Gracie, but staying away from you isn’t going to change that.”
“Nothing is going to happen to us,” I said confidently, for once believing it, letting go of all the worst-case scenarios that had kept me away from her. “I have too much to live for now.”
The storm outside raged on as the one inside me quieted. The rain poured down outside, but I was focused on Noah.
Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, my hands finding her waist, pulling her closer. She let out a little gasp. I leaned in, capturing her lips with mine.
It was a small, tentative brush at first, a question, an invitation. When she responded, deepening the kiss, I felt the weight of our past lift, replaced by more. So much more.
I poured every ounce of my longing and promise into that kiss, vowing silently to protect her, to cherish this moment and every damn moment that followed that I was lucky enough to get with her.
Time stood still as the rain pounded against the windows, a symphony of chaos that somehow harmonized with our newfound clarity. Her body against mine centered me, and I could taste the salt of her tears mingling with the sweetness of her lips.
I would fight with everything I had to look beyond my past and make room for her.
Because in that moment, I knew I was kissing my future wife.