Page 90
Story: Lost in Love
Unsure if a wedding is happening or not, I make my way downstairs to find my kids and Noah’s mom. Her eyes are wide. “Is everything okay up there?”
Finally feeling like I’ve sobered up, I shrug. “I have no idea, but Justice locked them in a room together so not sure how this is going to play out.” I point outside. “Are the kids out there?”
She nods. “Yeah, they found Noah. Fin’s asleep on Papa after she spit on the flower girl and called her a tit, and Sevi found a dog to lie beside. They’re napping together under a table.”
“Wow, sounds like I missed a lot.” I laugh. It’s funny how completely different Noah’s mom is to mine, who isn’t even here. Her own daughter’s wedding and she doesn’t show up. Typical. “Are Hazel and Oliver with Noah?”
“They’re out there somewhere. Oliver found his friends and Hazel found cake pops.”
“Oh, boy.”
Finding my way outside, everyone is running around like they don’t know what to do. Jonas is nowhere to be found, and I run into Noah. Physically run into him when I round the corner. Smack dab into his chest like it’s a brick wall. He catches me by the arms right before I fall backward. “Jesus, are you okay, honey?”
Honey? Okay. Maybe he’s not totally upset about everything he read?
Or maybe he fucking loves you, ya nutball.
It takes me a minute to reply. “I’m fine.” I don’t want to look at his eyes, but my heart betrays me, and my eyes slide to his. It’s like slow motion though, and it’s as if I’m seeing him for the first time.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in a tux, and he looks amazing. Fucking amazing. Tan skin on black fabric, scruffy face, hair tousled, and bloodshot angry eyes. I know, call me crazy, but I’ve always had a thing for his brooding appearance.
If I look closer, there’s something else in his eyes. Regret maybe?
Touching his body, even if it is just his arm, feels unfamiliar. I step back and breathe in a heavy breath. “Hi.”
Running his hands over his face, groaning, he seems torn at what he wants to say. Staring at me, dark eyes so deep and tortured I fear they’ll never be free, he hesitates. I know this expression. I’ve seen it before. It’s the same one he gave me the day our daughter died. The one that says, I wish I could take it all away, but I can’t.
“Did you read it?” I ask.
He squints into the setting sun trying to peek through the stormy clouds, little slivers of chalky pink and purple streaking through a slate-gray sky.
Noah tips his head toward me to listen, but his eyes are on the field where the wedding should be happening. “I did,” he replies, low-toned and turning slightly. He quirks an eyebrow.
Shaking my head, I sigh. “All of it?” I feel nauseous. Like any minute I might throw up. I’m regretting the wine.
The stillness between us, the bloodshot eyes and the vulnerability, it locks us both in a moment we’re not prepared for. I see something I thought I would never see in Noah Beckett again. Tears. Maybe just one or two, but still. He swallows, his throat bobbing and he nods, as if he can’t bear to say the words. When he blinks them away, he forces a smile.
Country music floats from a live band to our right, friends and family all celebrating a wedding that’s not happening at the moment.
“I’m assuming Justice found her?” Noah asks, looking up to the second story of the house.
I nod. “He locked her in a room after he and Jonas got in a fight.”
Noah chuckles lightly. “And we thought we had problems.”
“We do have problems,” I point out.
“You know what I mean. I wasn’t trying to….” He stops, continuing to stare at me in that overwhelming way. I close my eyes and feel his breath on my face. “You know what I meant,” he croaks.
“I do.” Leaning into the outdoor kitchen counter, I wrap my arms around my stomach as a breeze kicks up around us. My pulse quickens, the anticipation for what comes next is overwhelming.
Noah’s eyes drift to the pink lace dress I’m wearing. “You look beautiful.”
I look away from him, trying to walk away. He catches my hand and refuses to let me go. “Noah….”
“Is it really going to be like this?” he asks, his jaw clenching, his tone accusing.
My eyes snap to his. “Like what?”
Finally feeling like I’ve sobered up, I shrug. “I have no idea, but Justice locked them in a room together so not sure how this is going to play out.” I point outside. “Are the kids out there?”
She nods. “Yeah, they found Noah. Fin’s asleep on Papa after she spit on the flower girl and called her a tit, and Sevi found a dog to lie beside. They’re napping together under a table.”
“Wow, sounds like I missed a lot.” I laugh. It’s funny how completely different Noah’s mom is to mine, who isn’t even here. Her own daughter’s wedding and she doesn’t show up. Typical. “Are Hazel and Oliver with Noah?”
“They’re out there somewhere. Oliver found his friends and Hazel found cake pops.”
“Oh, boy.”
Finding my way outside, everyone is running around like they don’t know what to do. Jonas is nowhere to be found, and I run into Noah. Physically run into him when I round the corner. Smack dab into his chest like it’s a brick wall. He catches me by the arms right before I fall backward. “Jesus, are you okay, honey?”
Honey? Okay. Maybe he’s not totally upset about everything he read?
Or maybe he fucking loves you, ya nutball.
It takes me a minute to reply. “I’m fine.” I don’t want to look at his eyes, but my heart betrays me, and my eyes slide to his. It’s like slow motion though, and it’s as if I’m seeing him for the first time.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in a tux, and he looks amazing. Fucking amazing. Tan skin on black fabric, scruffy face, hair tousled, and bloodshot angry eyes. I know, call me crazy, but I’ve always had a thing for his brooding appearance.
If I look closer, there’s something else in his eyes. Regret maybe?
Touching his body, even if it is just his arm, feels unfamiliar. I step back and breathe in a heavy breath. “Hi.”
Running his hands over his face, groaning, he seems torn at what he wants to say. Staring at me, dark eyes so deep and tortured I fear they’ll never be free, he hesitates. I know this expression. I’ve seen it before. It’s the same one he gave me the day our daughter died. The one that says, I wish I could take it all away, but I can’t.
“Did you read it?” I ask.
He squints into the setting sun trying to peek through the stormy clouds, little slivers of chalky pink and purple streaking through a slate-gray sky.
Noah tips his head toward me to listen, but his eyes are on the field where the wedding should be happening. “I did,” he replies, low-toned and turning slightly. He quirks an eyebrow.
Shaking my head, I sigh. “All of it?” I feel nauseous. Like any minute I might throw up. I’m regretting the wine.
The stillness between us, the bloodshot eyes and the vulnerability, it locks us both in a moment we’re not prepared for. I see something I thought I would never see in Noah Beckett again. Tears. Maybe just one or two, but still. He swallows, his throat bobbing and he nods, as if he can’t bear to say the words. When he blinks them away, he forces a smile.
Country music floats from a live band to our right, friends and family all celebrating a wedding that’s not happening at the moment.
“I’m assuming Justice found her?” Noah asks, looking up to the second story of the house.
I nod. “He locked her in a room after he and Jonas got in a fight.”
Noah chuckles lightly. “And we thought we had problems.”
“We do have problems,” I point out.
“You know what I mean. I wasn’t trying to….” He stops, continuing to stare at me in that overwhelming way. I close my eyes and feel his breath on my face. “You know what I meant,” he croaks.
“I do.” Leaning into the outdoor kitchen counter, I wrap my arms around my stomach as a breeze kicks up around us. My pulse quickens, the anticipation for what comes next is overwhelming.
Noah’s eyes drift to the pink lace dress I’m wearing. “You look beautiful.”
I look away from him, trying to walk away. He catches my hand and refuses to let me go. “Noah….”
“Is it really going to be like this?” he asks, his jaw clenching, his tone accusing.
My eyes snap to his. “Like what?”
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