Page 71
Story: Lost in Love
Kate pushes the bottle of wine in my direction. “Drink, girl. Just drink. Wine makes everything better.”
Kate likes to push alcohol on me, and it’s a good thing I already fed Fin for the night because I’m gonna need this tonight.
Right before we’re going to eat, I walk upstairs to change my shirt because I spilled barbeque sauce on it. Noah’s up there doing the same thing.
“What are you doing?” He turns when I ask the question, surprised.
Closing the door behind me, I step further into the room. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns back around to the closet doors and pulls a dark blue sweatshirt over his head.
“Fin spit on me.”
“Listen.” I notice his face when I begin to speak, walking two steps toward him. He knows what I’m about to say, prepares for it even. “I’m sorry she’s here.”
He isn’t expecting me to say anything. I can tell. “Funny thing about that. I don’t give a shit. I don’t give a shit that she’s here. What I care about is that you seewhybefore it’s too late.”
“Noah.” I sigh, but then I think about what he said. My mother made the days following Mara’s death impossible and drove a wedge further between us. “I know, but please don’t make this more complicated.” I swallow the tears, hoping my fear will go with them, because I know he’s right. He’s always right. I know why she’s here.
Noah stares at me, his cheeks flushed. “Define complicated.” His brow draws together in concentration, rawness and pain evident on his features. He’s remembering just how difficult she made it for me. The way she blamed me for letting her die, like I had any control over it. Blaming me only made it worse for me because I still hold onto so much guilt, not knowing if I did the right thing. If us waiting too long to take her in meant we were responsible for the cancer spreading. That guilt, that burden I carry with me, it will never leave.
“You.” My voice shakes around the word. “You’re complicated. This entire situation between us is complicated. Some days I don’t even know who we are anymore.” I don’t think I meant to say that, or at the very least, out loud. I can blame the glass of wine on that, right?
Noah’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You would say something like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What the fuck does that mean, Noah?”
He swallows heavily, steps toward me and I want to walk out of the room, throw Journal in his face and show him how it feels, because I can’t tell him. I can say these one-liners, even give him snide comments, but when it comes to really opening up, I’m afraid of his reaction and pushing him away even further. So I don’t say anything more.
Noah swallows, leaning in, his breath hitting my face. “I won’t say anything to her, but if she says something to you or our kids about Mara, I’m not going to remain quiet like I did the last time.”
I’ll be honest, I think my mom’s disapproval of Noah is because he’s good for me. She doesn’t want me better off than she was. She’s the type of woman whose motto could have been “misery loves company.”
Noah watches me, then turns to the door, angling his body out of the room. He pauses, his retreat halted. “You look.” He breathes in and I tense, waiting for what might be my breaking point today. His eyes drop to my legs, then return. “Pretty tonight.”
It takes me a minute. I can hear Kate calling for me, but I’m not sure what to think about what Noah just said. After I change my shirt and dry the tears that have started to fall, I make my way back into the kitchen to see Charlee in full cooking mode taking over, and Ashlynn and Bonner have arrived.
Moving around me, knowing where everything is at, Charlee goes to work taking the spinach, butter lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and cauliflower from the bags to clean and chop them for the salad.
Ashlynn makes her way into the kitchen with dessert in one hand and Sevi in the other. All he has to do is give her those blue pouty eyes, and she’s carrying him around like a baby kangaroo so he can lay his head on her tits.
“I think he’s using me,” she deduces when Sevi leans forward in her arms to reach the cookies on the counter. She gives him one and then snuggles him closely, kissing cheeks that love to be kissed. “Oh, how I want one of you.”
Sevi giggles in her arms, cookie crumbles flying out onto Ashlynn’s cream sweater.
“Hey, maybe take it easy on the drinking tonight,” Jason says to Kate when he, too, comes in the kitchen. “It’s still early.”
“Eat a dick, asshole,” Kate says to him, pushing him away.
“This is why we’re divorced,” Jason mumbles, rolling his eyes at her.
Moving through the kitchen, I try to stay busy and not think about my mom or what Noah said to me.
“That’s no reason to talk like a butt crack,” I hear Charlee tell Gretchen about her son. “He’s a bad influence on my daughter. I caught them making out in the broom closet.”
“Butt crack is considered offensive too,” Gretchen says, handing Kate another bottle of wine and draping her coat on the back of the chair at the island, and then her nose scrunches. “Wait, what part of the island did you and Noah bone on?”
My eyes snap to Kate’s. “Can you keep a secret about anything?”
She refuses to make eye contact with me. “Nope.”
Kate likes to push alcohol on me, and it’s a good thing I already fed Fin for the night because I’m gonna need this tonight.
Right before we’re going to eat, I walk upstairs to change my shirt because I spilled barbeque sauce on it. Noah’s up there doing the same thing.
“What are you doing?” He turns when I ask the question, surprised.
Closing the door behind me, I step further into the room. He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns back around to the closet doors and pulls a dark blue sweatshirt over his head.
“Fin spit on me.”
“Listen.” I notice his face when I begin to speak, walking two steps toward him. He knows what I’m about to say, prepares for it even. “I’m sorry she’s here.”
He isn’t expecting me to say anything. I can tell. “Funny thing about that. I don’t give a shit. I don’t give a shit that she’s here. What I care about is that you seewhybefore it’s too late.”
“Noah.” I sigh, but then I think about what he said. My mother made the days following Mara’s death impossible and drove a wedge further between us. “I know, but please don’t make this more complicated.” I swallow the tears, hoping my fear will go with them, because I know he’s right. He’s always right. I know why she’s here.
Noah stares at me, his cheeks flushed. “Define complicated.” His brow draws together in concentration, rawness and pain evident on his features. He’s remembering just how difficult she made it for me. The way she blamed me for letting her die, like I had any control over it. Blaming me only made it worse for me because I still hold onto so much guilt, not knowing if I did the right thing. If us waiting too long to take her in meant we were responsible for the cancer spreading. That guilt, that burden I carry with me, it will never leave.
“You.” My voice shakes around the word. “You’re complicated. This entire situation between us is complicated. Some days I don’t even know who we are anymore.” I don’t think I meant to say that, or at the very least, out loud. I can blame the glass of wine on that, right?
Noah’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You would say something like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What the fuck does that mean, Noah?”
He swallows heavily, steps toward me and I want to walk out of the room, throw Journal in his face and show him how it feels, because I can’t tell him. I can say these one-liners, even give him snide comments, but when it comes to really opening up, I’m afraid of his reaction and pushing him away even further. So I don’t say anything more.
Noah swallows, leaning in, his breath hitting my face. “I won’t say anything to her, but if she says something to you or our kids about Mara, I’m not going to remain quiet like I did the last time.”
I’ll be honest, I think my mom’s disapproval of Noah is because he’s good for me. She doesn’t want me better off than she was. She’s the type of woman whose motto could have been “misery loves company.”
Noah watches me, then turns to the door, angling his body out of the room. He pauses, his retreat halted. “You look.” He breathes in and I tense, waiting for what might be my breaking point today. His eyes drop to my legs, then return. “Pretty tonight.”
It takes me a minute. I can hear Kate calling for me, but I’m not sure what to think about what Noah just said. After I change my shirt and dry the tears that have started to fall, I make my way back into the kitchen to see Charlee in full cooking mode taking over, and Ashlynn and Bonner have arrived.
Moving around me, knowing where everything is at, Charlee goes to work taking the spinach, butter lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and cauliflower from the bags to clean and chop them for the salad.
Ashlynn makes her way into the kitchen with dessert in one hand and Sevi in the other. All he has to do is give her those blue pouty eyes, and she’s carrying him around like a baby kangaroo so he can lay his head on her tits.
“I think he’s using me,” she deduces when Sevi leans forward in her arms to reach the cookies on the counter. She gives him one and then snuggles him closely, kissing cheeks that love to be kissed. “Oh, how I want one of you.”
Sevi giggles in her arms, cookie crumbles flying out onto Ashlynn’s cream sweater.
“Hey, maybe take it easy on the drinking tonight,” Jason says to Kate when he, too, comes in the kitchen. “It’s still early.”
“Eat a dick, asshole,” Kate says to him, pushing him away.
“This is why we’re divorced,” Jason mumbles, rolling his eyes at her.
Moving through the kitchen, I try to stay busy and not think about my mom or what Noah said to me.
“That’s no reason to talk like a butt crack,” I hear Charlee tell Gretchen about her son. “He’s a bad influence on my daughter. I caught them making out in the broom closet.”
“Butt crack is considered offensive too,” Gretchen says, handing Kate another bottle of wine and draping her coat on the back of the chair at the island, and then her nose scrunches. “Wait, what part of the island did you and Noah bone on?”
My eyes snap to Kate’s. “Can you keep a secret about anything?”
She refuses to make eye contact with me. “Nope.”
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