Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
SAVANNAH HOLLINGSWORTH
A s we finish up at Wendy’s I glance out the window. The wind has picked up and the sky has darkened to an ominous color. “We probably should get going,” I say as I look at the rain starting to pelt the windows.
Noah turns to look. “Yeah.” He stands and gathers up our trash.
When we get outside, the sky opens fire on us and heavy rain pummels us as we race for Noah’s car. He unlocks it with his key fob and we both climb in quickly.
Rain runs down my back and drips from my hair. I’m sure I look like I lost a fight with a waterfall. “Well, we timed that right, huh?”
Noah chuckles. “I’ve been in worse.”
The wind whips the trees in front of us, and I pull out my phone to look at the forecast. “Severe thunderstorm warning for Willow Shade. Sixty miles per hour wind gusts and heavy rainfall.”
“Yikes.”
I bite my lip. I don’t really want us to be driving in this. “Should we wait out the storm here?”
“Might not be a bad idea. Sorry, I should have thought about it before we sprinted to the car.”
“That’s okay. There is one more place I was wanting to go, if you don’t mind.”
He looks at me. “Where?”
“I was hoping to buy another photography book or two on infant photos. Can we go to the bookstore?”
Noah looks stricken, and I instantly regret my words. I forgot about the day his parent’s died, and how they were on their way to the bookstore. I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. If that’s a bad idea, I can order online.”
“No, it’s fine,” he says, leaning back, but his movements are stiff.
“It’s okay to skip it,” I say softly. “I forgot that it might bring up bad memories for you.”
He runs a hand over his wet hair, flinging water off onto the floor mat before turning to look at me. “It’s been years. I think it’s time for me to face this.”
I feel bad that I suggested the bookstore, but I slowly nod. If he feels like he’s ready to move past the pain of that day, then maybe I can help him. Be there for him. “All right.”
He starts the car, and we drive slowly out into traffic. Everyone is cautious, going below the speed limit, so it takes us fifteen minutes to get there. Noah pulls right up to the door. “You get out. I’ll park and meet you inside.”
My heart stutters a bit. “Thank you.” I open my car door. There’s an awning, so I don’t get rained on as I go inside.
I wait by the door until Noah comes in. We’re both doing a great job imitating a leaky faucet, so I tug him over by the reading area. The chairs are all empty. There’s a gas fireplace, and the warmth spreads through me. “Let’s dry off a bit before we ruin all the books.”
He looks down at me and chuckles. “What makes you think we’d ruin the books?” He scrubs a hand over his face and water drips off.
I laugh. “So difficult to say.”
Noah glances around the store as we warm our backsides. “They’ve done a remodel since I was last in here. It looks different.”
I look up at him. “Does that help?”
He nods. “Yeah. It does.”
“Did you come here a lot before the accident?”
“Yes. It’s the closest bookstore from our house, so this is the one my parents would bring me to.” He blinks back emotion.
I slip my hand into his. His hand is warm, despite the rain, and the skin contact feels good. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He smiles down at me. “I’m okay. This is just bringing up memories. Good ones. Don’t feel bad.”
“I’m glad.”
As we stand there, I lean a little closer to him. “Tell me about your parents. I never met them.”
Noah takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. “They were very involved in our lives. Even though my father ran his own company and worked hard, he was home on the weekends. Family was very important to them, and they instilled that into us kids. We ate dinner together every night.”
My chest constricts as I think about the difference between Noah’s family life and my own. “That sounds lovely.”
He looks at me. “I guess your family didn’t eat dinner together?”
I laugh, but it’s got a bitter edge. “No.”
Noah slides his arm around me, pulling me to his side. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t really want to eat with my parents. I often hid in my room to eat, so I didn’t have to hear them fighting.” I shrug. “That’s just the way it was.”
“That’s sad, and it makes me angry.” He caresses my side with his thumb. It sends tingles through me.
“I wasn’t allowed to be sad or angry about it. I was told to be a good daughter. A proper daughter who didn’t speak out. I wasn’t allowed to have any feelings whatsoever.” Anger rises in me as I say those words. Anger I’ve suppressed for far too long.
“No one should be treated that way. No wonder you went all nutso on that wall when I told you to get angry.”
I take in a breath. Noah’s right. I’ve never been allowed to express my feelings. It makes total sense that all of that would come out when allowed to. I nudge him. “You uncorked all my pent-up anger. Happy?”
He chuckles and pulls me closer. “Yes.”
All he said was one word, but it has such weight to it. I look up at him. The warmth of the fire, the strength of his arm around me, and the way his gaze travels over my face makes my heart rate speed up. I realize I’m happy, too. Being with Noah makes me happy.
Noah leans down and kisses the top of my head, which makes my heart nearly burst. He’s so kind and … loving. The thought rips through me. Does Noah love me?
As I stare into his grey eyes, I can see it. His gaze is full of it. He loves me. It warms me to my toes and fills me with a feeling so strong I cannot deny it anymore.
I love him, too.
I break eye contact and look around the bookstore, my feelings too overwhelming. Where do I go from here? There’s only heartache down this road.
A deep ache spreads through me, and I wiggle away from him. “I think I’m dry now. Let’s go.”
I weave my way through the bookstore aisles until I come to the photography section, determined not to think about Noah and our relationship. Determined not to let him see me cry.
I browse through the books, steeling my feelings. I pull out a few that focus on infant photos. I thumb through them as Noah waits patiently for me, but my thoughts aren’t on the books, and it’s impossible to concentrate.
“This one,” I pronounce, after I’ve flipped through all of them, unable to actually see the pages. “This is the one I want.”
“Great.” Noah grabs one that I put back on the shelf. “And I’ll get you this one.”
I glance up at him. “You don’t have to. One should be enough.”
“But I like the photos in this one. And I think they have more suggestions. I’ll get it for you as a business-warming gift.”
I hold in a laugh. “That is so not a thing.”
“Is too. Google it.”
I pull out my phone and quickly search. I huff and put my phone away. “Fine. It’s a thing.”
He grins at me, and I have to look away, my emotions raw. Why did I allow myself to fall back in love with Noah? Why wasn’t I more careful?
Now the pain of being alone for the rest of my life is going to hurt worse.