Never Letting Go

by Kristin MacQueen

  “She’s been looking out the window since she went inside.” A smile tugs on the corner of his lips before it falls, a worried look taking over his expression. “Don’t push me away, Frankie. Just give me time, I’ll tell you, I just... I need time.”

  “I'm not going anywhere; I’ll give you all the time you need. Goodnight, Noah.”

  I stand on my tiptoes, pressing a single kiss to his lips before I pull back and hurry to the door.

  “Frankie...” I pause, my hand on the doorknob and peek over my shoulder at him. He’s sexy as hell standing in the moonlight, running his fingers through his hair, his green eyes sparkling. “I love you, babe. Call me if you need me tonight.”

  “I love you too.” I give him a big smile before I shut myself inside for the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Noah

  “Hey, Dad.”

  I collapse onto the couch next to him. Some news channel is playing on the television.

  “Hey, Noah. How you feeling?”

  “Broken.” I admit. His eyes snap to mine, shock and surprise filling them. He’s asked me that same question every day for over three years. I’ve never answered before.

  “Do you... do you want to talk about it?”

  “Kinda... would you mind?”

  He sits up straighter in his seat, his hands ringing together. He’s nervous as hell.

  “I’d love nothing more, son. I told you before, I'm always here for you. Tell me everything.”

  “She’s back.” My eyes stay locked on my hands, a smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

  “She is. How does that make you feel?”

  “I don’t feel like I'm enough. She says she loves me, but I feel broken, she deserves someone who’s whole.”

  “I don’t think you should decide who she should or shouldn’t love. Her love is hers and only hers to give.”

  “Will she hate me when she finds out? Will she pity me? Be disappointed in me? What if she wants nothing to do with me when she realizes how broken I am?”

  “There’s no way to know how she’s going to react until you tell her. I know Frankie though, she won’t hate you, or be disappointed in you. I don’t think she’ll even pity you but she’ll want to help you. She’s broken too, Noah. Everyone’s broken in some way.”

  “Liam isn't.” I grumble under my breath.

  “He likes Frankie?” He asks like he already aware of the answer.

  “How’d you know?”

  “She’s gorgeous, Noah. Kind, smart, caring, a guy would be stupid to not like her.”

  “He wants to date her.”

  “What does she want?”

  “She told him she wants to be friends.”

  “Then don’t worry about it.”

  “He isn't going to give up, Dad.”

  “He will when he realizes how that girl looks at you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Frankie’s looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars since you were little. Long before you two understood what love was, you loved each other.”

  “We’re not kids anymore.”

  “No, you’re not. Now you know what you’re feeling a little better and you know what love is.”

  “She knows I'm hiding something. Her friend, Miranda, figured it out. Miranda didn’t tell her, she said she won’t.”

  “How did Miranda figure it out?”

  I move the leather cuff bracelet; rub the scars it covers. The raised skin of the scars reminds me of how broken I really am.

  “She saw my scars, she asked how long ago my last time was.”

  “How long has it been?” His voice shakes with emotion. It kills him that I hurt myself. He feels like he failed me somehow, but he didn’t. He’s a great dad, always has been.

  “Almost five months.” I whisper.

  “How long has Frankie been back?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “You know you can't let your happiness depend on her being in your life.”

  “I know... I just don’t know how to exist happily without her.”

  “You fell into a deep depression when she left. I get it, I really do. Your entire world was turned upside down, you lost the person who means the most to you. I just worry about what will happen next year. What happens if you go to different colleges? Or if she meets a guy and gets married to him? How will you react?”

  “I don’t know. I'm trying, Dad, I really am.” He reaches his hand over and grabs my own. He squeezes my hand, giving me a smile.

  “I know you are, Noah. I'm proud of you, I really am. You’re doing better but I'm afraid. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You’re afraid I'm going to kill myself.” I whisper the thing that we’re both thinking. Cutting myself to release the pain is bad enough but they’re afraid I’ll take it further.

  “I’m fucking terrified of losing you, Noah. You’re my son, I want to do everything I can to make your life perfect, but I don’t know how to help you. It kills me to stand by and not know how to help.”

  “Dad, you do help. You’re always there for me to talk to. You’re talking to me now. You got me help, you realized there was a problem even when I tried to hide it. Therapy is helping. The therapist told me to channel my pain into something else and it’s working. I'm working out instead of cutting myself. I'm going to all of my sessions; I'm taking the medicine. I'm trying so damn hard.”

  “I know you are. We’re so proud of how much better you’re doing. I even saw you smile tonight when Frankie called me an old man.” He chuckles softly. “I forgot how much I love your smile.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “For what?” His brows pinch together, the concern is clear on his face.

  “For putting you and mom through all of this. I know this isn't what you expected to deal with, you didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Noah, we love you more than anything in the entire world. We’ll always be by your side. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

  “I became depressed and cut myself because my best friend left, I didn’t know how to handle not having friends. How’s that strength?” Anger rises inside of me; I don’t want to be told I'm strong when I'm not. I'm weak, I'm broken.

  “Depression isn't weakness, I wish you could see that. People with depression, they’re stronger than anyone else. I know you don’t want to get out of bed every day but you do. Things are harder for you, you’ve told me you feel empty but you still go to school, you still live your life even if you aren’t always happy. I know you don’t find pleasure in playing football anymore but you don’t give up, you push yourself harder. You work until you’re the best on the team, there’s a reason you’re the captain. You need to stop looking at your sickness as a weakness. You’ll only be weak if that’s how you view yourself. You’re the strongest person I know, Noah.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “How have you been sleeping? I know you don’t sleep much; I hear you walking around at night.”

  “I'm sorry if I wake you up.” He waves me off like he doesn’t care at all. “I get around four hours a night, that’s about it normally.”

  “What about when you slept at Frankie’s last night?”

  “I slept most of the night.” I whisper. I don’t want to admit that having her in my arms calmed the storm within me enough that I was able to sleep the entire night.

  “You really love her, huh?” A smirk spreads across his face. He loves Frankie, it would be a dream come true for him if we got married.

  “I do. She’s perfect.”

  “She’s just as broken as you are, Noah... Are you afraid she’ll go to a different college next year?”

  “I’ll follow her anywhere.” I say with a shrug. It’s true, I’d follow her to the end of the earth if she’ll let me.

  “Good. Remember what I said, you fight for that girl if you really love her, don’t let her go.”

  “I'm not letting her go.�
�� I stand to head up to bed, I'm exhausted.

  “Noah?”

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “You don’t give up on the people who mean the world to you. You mean the world to your mother and I; we’ll never give up on you. We’re never disappointed in you, you could never let us down. Please don’t doubt that. We’re here for you no matter what you need, just ask. Let us in a little, I promise it will be worth it.”

  I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. I always thought they were disappointed, I somehow let them down by being depressed. It feels like a weight has lifted off my chest knowing that they don’t feel that way. Breathing is a little easier than normal. If one conversation with dad can make me feel this much better, maybe I should let him and mom in more.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I walk back over to him; he stands and we wrap our arms around each other in a tight hug. I couldn’t tell you the last time I let anyone other than Frankie hug me. It feels good to know that my parents are here for me, that they support me and want me to do better.

  When I finally get up to my room, I walk out onto my balcony, taking a seat on the wicker chair, propping my feet up on the table. I stare across the lawn at Frankie’s room. The curtains are partially open but the lights are off. I can see her television is on, she’s watching some crappy reality show. I’d bet Miranda picked it.

  I stay on my balcony for a while. Letting all the difficult conversations I’ve had sink in. I'm shocked that Miranda saw my scars and knew exactly what they were from. She said her brother used to cut himself too. She promised me that in time it gets easier but that he still struggles some days. She even told me she’d give me his phone number so when I wanted to cut, I could call him. Kind of like how an alcoholic calls their sponsor when they want a drink. I surprised myself when I accepted the number. Miranda texted her brother right away to let him know, he’s actually excited to help me. He’s two years older than us, in his sophomore year of college. I begged her to not tell Frankie. I think she understands even if she doesn’t agree with keeping my secret. Miranda really is a good friend; she made that clear tonight.

  My mind drifts to the kiss. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had. My fingers itch to feel her in my arms again. Frankie fits against me like she’s my missing puzzle piece, like she’s made for me. I wish Miranda wasn’t here, I want her in my arms tonight... every night.

  I let out a sigh as I trudge to bed. Looks like I'm sleeping alone tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Frankie

  I jerk up in bed. My hand is on my chest, it’s rising and falling fast. Breaths coming out in puffs, I feel like I just ran a marathon. My hands are shaking, skin covered in sweat. I try to focus on my breathing, try to control it, but I feel like I can't control anything right now. It’s the same nightmare I have almost every night. In my dream, it’s the morning my dad dies. I try my hardest to get him to stay home from work, I beg him, tears spilling down my cheeks but he says he needs to go put the bad guys behind bars. I even tell him that someone is waiting to kill him out front but he won’t listen. I wake up when the gun shot rings through the air.

  I run a hand through my hair, grip the back of my neck and squeeze my eyes shut. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain starting to fall outside. Tears silently fall down my cheeks just like they do every time I have a nightmare. The sound of the gun going off will haunt me for the rest of my life. I was there, just up the steps when he died. I ran down the steps as fast as I could but I was too late. He was dead. I heard screaming but didn’t realize it was coming from me until my mom came running. She crumbled to the ground beside me, we couldn’t move, we couldn’t do anything but cry. A neighbor called the cops when they heard the gun shot. The rest of the day was a complete blur, I don’t remember a single second of it.

  As soon as the funeral was over, my mom told me she wanted to move back here, back to my childhood home. I agreed, there was no way I could live in the city knowing it was the reason my dad was dead. I hated leaving all my friends behind, especially Miranda but I couldn’t take living in the house my dad died in front of. We hired a moving company and moved the following week.

  I tip toe to the balcony, slip out the door and drop into my favorite chair. My eyes instantly lock on Noah’s window. The shades are open but it’s too dark to see anything inside. I wish he were here. I know being with him would make me feel so much better. I bite my bottom lip as an idea forms.

  I tiptoe back into my room, step over Miranda’s sleeping body on the floor and down to the kitchen. I grab a notepad and scribble out a note to my mom before I leave.

  Rain is falling steadily but that won’t stop me. I won’t be able to sleep the rest of the night, I never can after that dream. I run across the driveway with bare feet, a pair of shorts and Noah’s old t-shirt. I go straight for the small ceramic frog, pulling the key out from under it. I open the door, quietly closing it behind me. I scan the dark kitchen; it looks exactly the way I remember.

  I pad up the steps, going straight to the door I’ve spent so hours behind in the past. My hand on the knob, I take a deep breath and let it out. If I do this, there’s no going back. I push open the door, leaving it open slightly, just to make my mom happy.

  Noah’s room look completely different than the last time I was in here. The walls are painted a medium gray, all of the decorations are navy blue. There’s a desk in the corner, a couple dressers and a television. It’s spotless, there isn't a piece of clothing on the ground, no shoes kicked into the corner or papers on the desk.

  “What are you doing here, Frankie?” Noah’s groggy voice startles me.

  “Hey... I, um, I couldn’t sleep?”

  “Come here, baby.”

  He sits up in bed, reaching for me when I'm close enough.

  “Why are you all wet?”

  “It’s pouring out.” His touch sends a shiver through me. Noah climbs out of bed, grabs a t-shirt out of his dresser and brings it back to me.

  “Put this on, I don’t want you to be cold and wet.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand there awkwardly. I don’t know where I should change. I don’t want to be walking all over the place and wake up his parents. Not that they’d care that I'm here, Noah’s dad told me where the key was and said to use it whenever I needed Noah.

  “I’ll turn my back so you can get changed in here. Tell me when you’re done.”

  When he turns his back to me, I notice for the first time that Noah’s only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. He looks perfect. I stare for so long that Noah’s voice breaks through my trance.

  “Are you done yet?”

  “Uh, give me a second.”

  “How long does it take to change a shirt and take off shorts?” His low chuckle causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I haven’t heard him laugh in so long.

  “I'm done.” I say softly. I'm swimming in his t-shirt, it almost reaches my knees.

  “You look sexy as hell in my shirt.” I roll my eyes at him but I can't stop the smile.

  “I wear one of your shirts to bed every night.” I hold up the wet shirt I stole from him before we moved.

  “I know, I love it. There’s something about seeing you in a shirt I currently wear though. It makes me feel like you’re mine.” He closes the distance between us, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. His lips are on mine before I can respond. The warmth from his bare chest, seeps through the shirt, warming my cold body. My hands wrap around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair. Noah holds on to my hip with one hand and wraps the other arm tightly around me, pulling me as close as he can get me. A small moan escapes before I can stop it. I can feel the corners of Noah’s lips lift in a smirk.

  “Sorry...” I murmur, burying my head in his chest.

  “Don’t ever be sorry for moaning when you’re kissing me. Let’s get to bed, babe.”

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “Y
ou didn’t. I don’t sleep much.”

  “Really? How come?”

  “Insomnia.” He says simply.

  Noah lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all. He carries me over to the bed, gently putting me on the right side of the bed. He pulls the covers over my body, tucking me in like a child. I love how he takes care of me. He pads across the room to the other side of the bed and climbs in. As soon as he’s lying on his back, he holds his arm out. I put my head on his chest, my arm thrown over his stomach, his arm wraps around me, his other hand threads through my hair.

  I prop myself up slightly when I notice the tattoo on his chest. My fingers trace over the design, memorizing every single detail.

  “Why did you get this tattoo?” He stares at me, I don’t think he’s going to answer me, he’s silent for so long.

  “The design meant a lot to me.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “The anchor is a symbol of hope, it grounds me, I can hold onto it when I'm overwhelmed. It keeps me from drifting back to a period of time I'm not proud of.”

  “What about the keys?”

  “It symbolizes that I have access to happiness and the life I want; I just need to take it.”

  “Why two of them?”

  “I can't tell you; it will sound stupid.”

  “Noah, I'm not going to think it’s stupid.”

  He lets out a long sigh, he’s fighting himself over this. He wants to tell me but he’s afraid.

  “Let me in, babe.” I whisper as I kiss the tattoo over his heart.

  “What was your nickname growing up?”

  “Kiki?” I'm so lost, I have no idea what my nickname has to do with his tattoo. His hand untangles from my hair, he points to one key then the other.

  “Key-key.”

  “What?”

  “It was to remind me of you. I wasn’t going to get Frankie tattooed on my chest, that’d be weird.”

  “Noah, I don’t know what to say.” I'm speechless, I have no clue how to react to this let alone what to say to him.