by Kat T. Masen
As for me, I have a lot of emotional baggage to work through and started the recovery process once again to piece myself back together.
But, Noah’s actions and words question everything between us.
We drive silently to Charlie’s house. I expect him to pass out on the ride, but the alcohol almost works in reverse. His eyes are wide, too alert for someone who drank so much.
When I pull into the driveway, I turn off the engine. It’s way past midnight, on the brink of dawn. I have to be on a plane to Napa in a few hours and freshly attired to meet some business associates.
Noah shuffles beside me. “I meant what I said.”
I shut him down, refusing to do this. “No.”
“C’mon, I just need… you know—”
“You want a rebound. Someone, to take your mind off her?”
“Promise I’ll get hard this time. Look…” he place’s my hand on his cock, and true to his word, he’s rock hard. “See?”
I remove my hand, exiting the car, and walking to the passenger side to open his door. Instead of getting out, he twists his body, sliding his hand up the side of my ribcage, whispering, “Please, Kate, let me fuck you. I promise you’ll forget about him, too.”
The weight of his touch is sending mixed messages throughout my body. I crave the touch of a man, a man who will give me what I need. Yet Noah will only half satisfy me. The physical connection will be amazing, but his mind will be elsewhere.
Certainly, not on me.
Definitely on Morgan.
With a delayed response, giving him false hope, I bow my head, trying to control the anger swelling within me.
“Noah, I don’t care if you’re drunk, okay? You and I are not each other’s rebounds,” I tell him as if I splashed cold water all over his face.
“Kate, I—”
“What Noah? You love her,” I blurt out even though it hurts somewhat. “You’re hurting because you love her.”
“I’m not hurting because I love her, okay?” he shouts, removing his hands from me. “I’m hurting because she lied. I’m hurting because I’ve been following this feeling, but maybe it’s wrong? Maybe the person has been there all along…”
I shake my head, distancing myself from him. How dare he throw something like that at me, staring at me as if we are anything else.
“Kate, please.”
“Please, what, Noah?” I lift my gaze to meet his. He has gotten out of the car, his tall stature standing in front of me. “We don’t do this, you and me. We do not use each other whenever it's convenient.”
“I’m not using you, Kate,” he preaches, an odd tone escaping him. “I'm just saying—”
“No, Noah. There’s nothing left to say,” I plead, desperate to end this right here. “You need to sober up.”
“You and I…” he continues, “… we are—”
“Friends,” I finish, ignoring the hurt festering inside. “We’ll always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”
And just like that, I’ve shut down anything between us.
He loves her.
Not me.
Noah may not have realized it just yet, but I was never supposed to the woman he fell for. He’s confused, plain and simple. My job is to be his friend, help him heal from the pain of a broken heart.
Nothing more, and of course, nothing less.
NOAH
I roll over to my side, my head pounding to the beat of a drum. No, wait, it’s actually drums. Argh, that damn drum set. I throw my pillow over my head until there’s a knock on my door. Amelia walks in carrying a bottle of water and two white pills. She turns around to look at Charlie, who encourages her to hand them to me.
“Uncle Noah, Mommy says take this medicine to make you feel better.”
I take it from her, swallowing it in one go. Amelia runs out of the room, leaving Charlie behind. She sits on the edge of my bed with a worried expression.
“I heard what happened.”
I throw my head back onto the pillow. “From Kate?”
She nods her head. “It’s okay to be angry. I know I would be.”
I close my eyes, wishing this nightmare away. “Am I that stupid I didn’t see the signs? I pride myself on knowing how to read women. God, that’s how I managed to get through these years without being tied down in a relationship.”
“You’re not stupid,” she tells me. “When you’re infatuated with someone, you can barely think straight. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions where nothing makes sense, and you’re being taken on this wild ride that consumes every part of you.”
Her theory makes sense. I saw the signs, but I chose to ignore them, thinking it was nothing more than my wild imagination. And I didn’t press on for fear of losing her. Stupid as it may seem, it was never my intention.
“Charlie,” I say softly, afraid to admit the truth. “Am I in love with her?”
“I don’t know, Noah. Only you can answer that.”
“But I don’t even know what that feels like. And I’ve only known her for three weeks. How can you fall in love with someone after three weeks? Isn’t that too soon?”
She smiles, toying with the wedding band on her finger. “I don’t think there’s a set time. Sometimes it’s love at first sight, and other times, it is with someone who has been there all along. Like a friend, for example,” she trails off, watching me with curious eyes.
“I know where you’re going with this.”
Charlie purses her lips, remaining quiet. Of late, she’s been vocal about my friendship with Kate despite both of us telling her there’s nothing going on.
“Just go with your gut.”
“My gut doesn’t fall in love,” I inform her. “It preys on broken women looking for a rebound. Just like Kate.” I bury my head in my hands, pieces of last night flashing before my eyes. “Did I… you know… with her… last night?”
Charlie stands. “I don’t know, Noah. Kate is upset. I’m not sure what happened, but if you don’t want to lose a friend, you better fix it.”
Great. Now I’m stuck in some sort of problematic triangle all because I followed my gut. The last I can recall, we argued, and I started yelling at her. As to what we argued specifically about, I have no recollection.
“How do I fix it? With Kate, I mean.”
“Give her space right now, okay?” Charlie warns. “Even friendships need the storm to pass to see the rainbow.”
“How do I fix it if you’re telling me to give her space? Why do women have to be so complicated?” I question, though knowing no answer will fix my ninety-nine problems. “Aside from Kate and her obviously being angry with me, I don’t even know where to begin with Morgan.”
“Noah,” she continues, keeping her voice low. “I don’t know what’s going on with Morgan. I like her, I really do. But you need to remember she has a family. A husband and a son.”
“I know, Charlie,” I respond with a bitter taste in my mouth. “My morals tell me to walk away, you’ve been played, and karma is a goddamn bitch.”
She leans in and kisses my forehead, staring back at me with her big brown eyes. “Karma may be a bitch, but sometimes, she’s your best friend.”
“So, you think karma is a woman, too?” I chuckle.
“Hell, yeah,” she laughs along. “Only women would have mood swings like that.”
Charlie leaves me be but not without reminding me to shower and change as we are taking Mom out to Malibu for lunch.
I spend all of Sunday being present for Mom. It’s refreshing to be around her. Mom’s jokes are the highlight of my day along with a delicious meal at Nobu. Charlie joined us with the girls, who Mom absolutely adores.
We reminisce about our childhood, and thankfully, both of them steer clear of my toxic love life. After a nice dinner Mom offers to cook, I call it an early night, trying to catch up on sleep.
***
Monday is a new day. At least that’s the pep talk I give myself while working out this morning at t
he gym. I’ve only been in the office for an hour, and my mind won’t shut down.
It’s bugging me that I don’t recall what happened with Kate, and she hasn’t bothered to call me. She left for Napa yesterday morning, due to return tonight. I decide to call her and ease my troubled mind.
“Hey,” she answers oddly.
“I knew it,” I say, angry at myself.
“Knew what?”
“We fucked. That’s why you didn’t answer the phone in your annoying ‘wazzup.’”
She chuckles softly, releasing a long sigh. “Uh no, I didn’t answer that way… it’s just things are tense.”
“I’m sorry, Kate,” I apologize for my behavior I can’t even recall. Only pieces of last night linger. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Noah,” she interrupts. “We didn’t have sex.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. You talked on and on about anal fisting, completely killing my buzz.”
I place my cell on my forehead—this shit just gets worse and worse. “Jesus. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“You were upset. I get it. I was upset for you and for myself. It was just a bad night all around. I want to forget everything as much as you.”
I lean my chair back, tilting my head up until I’m staring at the ceiling. It’s nothing but all white, a blank canvas that calms me if only a moment. The creak of my door alarms me, and I pull myself forward and see Morgan standing at the entrance.
“Kate, I have to go.”
“Sure… but Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“We need to talk, soon. Okay?”
I say goodbye, hanging up the phone and placing it on my desk.
Morgan closes the door behind her and continues to stand in the same spot. She looks terrible, dark circles behind her glasses. Even her hair doesn’t look as neat as it usually does.
Although she looks like death has found her, she’s still a beautiful woman.
And I hate that fact.
I should be looking at her with complete contempt and disgust right now.
“I guess I deserve that, and am not surprised Kate is the one you run to.”
I keep silent.
“I came here to talk to you… to explain what happened.” She tries to control her tone, remaining still.
“You can’t just ambush me at work,” I tell her in an artic voice.
“It’s the only place where I know you’ll have a civil conversation.”
“There’s nothing civil about you being married with a kid, Morgan.”
She continues to stand at the door, barely moving yet still remaining composed. “We need to talk, Noah. Please?”
Staring at the floor, I avoid meeting her eyes. The pain is etched all over her face, but who says she even feels pain? Maybe it’s guilt for treating me like shit. Just your run-of-the-mill guilty conscience when you know you screwed someone over but only have yourself to blame.
Just like you did with Benny.
“What’s there to talk about? I was a fool. You lied. I got played. End of story.”
She moves a few feet closer. “No, Noah. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself… the situation.”
“The situation? The fact that you’re married?”
“Separated.”
I laugh at the ridiculous technicality. “Such a loose word. That’s what they all say, ‘I’m separated.’ Because it gives you the right to fuck around.”
“But it gives you the right to prey on women even though you know they’re not over their ex?” she argues back.
And right there, she made it all clear. Not over an ex.
“I think, Morgan, you made yourself perfectly clear. So, tell me, why should I even bother with you now? That would be a hasty decision because you’re not over your ex… husband.”
“Noah, please. This is hard… don’t do this to me,” she pleads, keeping her tears at bay.
“Do this to you?” I raise my voice. “This wasn’t in my plan. You weren’t in my plan! This is supposed to be a new life for me. I wasn’t supposed to fall for you.”
“No. Just Scarlett, right?”
“Fuck you,” I tell her and fumble for the keys to my car while ignoring the fact that she’s standing there about to cry. Every part of me wants to run to her and beg her to choose me. Not him. But my pride won’t allow it. I refuse to be second best.
I stand, pretending to ignore her as I walk past while she calls my name. She’s only a few feet away, but her scent has invaded my office, making it nearly impossible to walk away at this moment.
“Noah, please, let me explain to you.”
I hold back, uncertain as to why. I hate she has something over me, and that my pride and ego are willing to stand still for just a moment to listen to her.
“Michael is technically not my son. He’s my stepson.”
I hate to admit that upon hearing those words, it makes me feel slightly better, though I’ll never admit it to her. I continue to stand in silence, unsure why I feel the need to listen to her explanation when the damage has already been done.
“Michael has special needs. I don’t know if you know much about it, but he has autism,” she continues, the crack in her voice filtering through. “Wyatt and I have joint custody of him, and every second week he spends time with his mother.”
She moves her gaze to the floor, shuffling her feet anxiously. “Last year, Wyatt and I decided to go our own ways. We thought it would be easy, but Michael took it hard. We’d worked so hard to create a stable home environment for him. He reacted poorly, and his behavior changed, sleeping became difficult for him. The school was concerned for him. He doesn’t adapt well to change of any kind. There are ways around it, ways we need to adapt. But it’s a prolonged process that takes a lot of dedication from both of us, his mother, teachers, and our therapists. We saw a behavioral specialist last year, and Wyatt and I agreed that for now, we’d continue to live in the same house and transition the move slowly.”
She takes a breath, waiting for me to respond. I don’t have words, or at least my words make no sense in my head. I don’t know a thing about autism. The kid didn’t look any different at Scarlett’s house, so I don’t understand at all what she’s going on about.
“You lied, Morgan.”
“I had no choice, Noah. I didn’t expect any of this. I didn’t expect you to walk into my life… you just pissed me off so much I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to tell you, but I knew when I did, you’d act exactly the way you are now.”
“What the fuck do you expect?” I yell.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know the truth.” She straightens her posture and stares directly at me. “So where to now?”
“You’re asking me that?” I ridicule her, shaking my head, almost laughing at her ridiculous question. “You’re the one carrying the baggage.”
She appears offended, her wolfish expression quickly following. “And you’re not? Tell me now, why did life get so complicated back home?”
I stand in silence, not answering her question.
“Yeah, exactly. We all have our baggage. We all have our lies. The question is, are you ready to lay all yours on the table for me to see?”
More silence.
What the fuck does she expect me to do? Turn around and forgive her, then play happy houses with her and her husband.
“I didn’t think so. So, before you go judging me, take a look at yourself. None of us are perfect,” she fires back hastily. Morgan turns around, attempting to leave the room before I do.
Just before she steps out into the hall, I fire one more question at her—the one question eating away at me. “Answer me one thing,” I snarl. “Do you still sleep with him?”
Her complete body swivels to face where I’m standing. Wearing an emerald-green dress which flares out toward the bottom, it showcases her long, lean legs, which my eyes try their hardest to ignore. Even when
I’m looking at the floor, I see her gold pumps strapped around her ankle, and all I want to do is rest them on my shoulder and kiss every inch of her skin.
“Yes, Noah. I sleep with him. I don’t fuck him, but we do share the same bed. For the sake of our son.”
And the thought that threatened to eat away at me just took its first bite.
I laugh, covering up the hurt and anger swirling throughout my twisted mind. “Right, Morgan, you answered my question perfectly.”
NOAH
It would’ve been easy to drown my sorrows in a big bottle of Jack Daniels, but I was sick of feeling hungover and out of control. Not to mention, I have terrible judgment when I’m intoxicated.
Mom has an afternoon flight back home, so she’s spending most of the day out with some friends. I left work early, picking her up to take her to the airport. When it comes time to say goodbye, I can’t help but miss her already.
“You’ll get through this, kid,” she tells me with a reassuring smile. “You can get through anything. Just don’t end up in jail… again.”
I wish I could believe her, but I question everything in my life with no conclusion reached. It’s way too much for me, so I just block it out. For now.
We say our goodbyes, hugging it out until she disappears through the terminal.
Charlie calls to inform me that the girls are staying over at Lex’s sister’s house so we can have a decent night to adult. Now, I’m assuming a bottle of tequila will be present, but I’m misinformed. It’s Monday, and I still have a long week of work ahead of me. That, and Charlie can’t drink.
When I arrive home from the airport, Charlie is dressed in her pajamas and with what she calls a messy bun. Kate is beside her, dressed casually in a tank top and sweats. I know she arrived back around noon with a flight back to the East Coast tomorrow.
Even in her casual attire, Kate looks even more gorgeous, flawless without the ridiculous makeup women often cake themselves in.