Page 122 of Becoming Us

The other Noah.

We had talked about this a couple of times now—Atty’s theory of me turning into another person, shutting off my emotions. Every time, it was so fucking hard to hear because I knew who I was turning into. Maybe my dad had been right. Maybe we were more alike than I liked to admit.

And I hated that the one thing that had made me feel like absolute shit growing up, I had turned around and done to the person I loved. The hurt on his face—it was the same one my mother carved into me. That was on me.

It scared me shitless, because if I had one goal in life, it was to not be like her. And yet it was so fucking easy to fall into her patterns, her behaviors. Easy to let the anger take over and shut down the people who mattered most.

“I won’t shut off. Not with you,” I said, my grasp tightening. “Do you know what the one on my back is?”

He shook his head. “I figured it had something to do with your dad, but the date threw me off.”

“January fifth,” I said. “Of 2023.” Neither of them had the year. Just the month and the day.

His eyebrows shot up.

“That was the first time you told me you loved me.”

His lips twisted a little before he pressed them together. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the side of mine.

“Maybe it seemed a little rushed, and I know everything between us back then felt a little too intense. But you said it back—and I believed you. And even though I’m still not sure why exactly, it felt so real.

“When I got out of rehab, I needed something to remind me of why I was doing this. Why I wanted to change and get better. A really big reason that was strong enough to outshine everything else.And that was you. Your love.I wanted to become the kind of person who deserved it. Deservedyou.Deserved a home, a life, a family. Even if I didn’t get you back, that was the version of myself I wanted to fight for.”

He exhaled slowly. “It’s not about worth,” he said, voice trembling.

“I know—and I don’t,” I admitted. “Maybe, one day, it’ll sink in. But right now, it’s a goal. So when I say I’m trying, when I say I’m not going to run from this—I mean it, Atty. Not from you. If you need this, I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you. Even if that means fighting myself.”

He shook his head, but his lips curved into a small, albeit painful smile. “I’ll come with you,” he said, leaning back just enough to look me in the eyes.

“Are you sure?” I was caught between not wanting to hope and already doing it anyway.

“If you need this, I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you,” he repeated.

My eyes prickled. “The Atty and Noah Team?”

“Exactly,” he said, before leaning in and placing a kiss on my cheek. “Stretch your legs.”

I did as he asked, and Atty let go of my hand and—in one very surprising move—straddled my lap. I looked up at him, smiling, and he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I pulled him close, hands resting on his hips, and he settled his weight over me.

It tugged at something deep in my chest, having him like this. It felt like a gift.

I curled my arms around his waist and held on tightly. “You feel nice up there.”

His hands cupped my face, tilting it up until I was looking at him. “Noah, there’s something else I need from you.” His voice was soft but serious.

“Anything.”

“I need you to stop thinking I’m some perfect being you have to live up to.”

My lips parted slowly.

“You’ve apologized enough. And I’m not fucking perfect. I made mistakes too—with us. This isn’t about you living up to me, okay?”

I nodded, a little too overwhelmed to speak.

“I know it’s going to take a while for you to believe me when I say this, but you’ve always been more than enough for me. I want to be who you need too. I love you.”

My arms tightened around him instinctively.