“You mean, a different kind of coffee from the kind we usually get?” she’d teased.
He’d ducked his head with a timid smile. “I mean, just you and me. Without the crew.”
Chelsie’s heart rate had picked up. The thought of dating anyone hadn’t dared crossed her mind. “Oh… I – I see,” she’d stuttered, feeling flustered and unsure. “That’s sweet of you to ask, but I’m sort of unavailable.”
“We can do tomorrow,” he’d said. He had looked eager and anxious.
“I’m sorry, Jon. I meant… I’m unavailable. You know – emotionally.”
Chelsie’s friends had known about her past life in New York. They had watched her relationship with Devon Sawyer unfold and fall apart on national news. They knew about Ian and the attack. They knew about her deep-rooted emotional trauma.
But… they didn’t know about Noah. They knew he existed, of course, but Chelsie had never talked about their unexpected friendship, profound connection, or whirlwind romance that had been cut short. They didn’t know she had fallen in love with him.
Chelsie often wondered if Noah still thought about her. She had kept tabs on him through the media and various social outlets. He was a proclaimed solo artist now. His arm had fully healed, and he’d picked up playing guitar again. Noah never went back to Freeze Frame, and the band eventually dissolved, the remaining members going off to pursue their own creative outlets. None of them had created anything worthwhile, except for Noah.
Noah Hayes was the country’s most promising, rising star. He’d released a hit single called ‘Aria’ about a year after Chelsie had left town. The song was about herself, that she knew. She’d spent many nights crying herself to sleep while the song played on repeat, haunting her bedroom with old memories and a painful echo of what could have been. Noah’s lyrics and the sound of his voice cut through her like a hot knife. It had felt like he was speaking directly to her. God, it hurt. It hurt more than she could possibly put into words.
But it was the right thing to do.
Noah Hayes was married now. He had tied the knot with Beth Jessup six months ago. They had a baby together named Jeremiah. Sam was a big brother.
All of it hurt.
Chelsie had to make a conscious effort each morning to remind herself of her wonderful life. She had made her choice, and she didn’t regret it. It was for the best. Noah was happy. Chelsie was happy. It never would have worked.
Still… she loved him. She always would. Chelsie had no desire to date or get married or fall in love with someone else. Noah would always have her heart.
So, she’d gently rejected Jon’s coffee invitation, hopeful they could still be friends. Jon had been disappointed, but he had understood.
Chelsie’s back-up alarm began to go off and she frantically turned it off. It was time for work. Her job was only a five-minute bike ride away, which was one of its many perks.
Chelsie made her way out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to turn on the shower. As she pulled a fresh towel out of her hall closet, her phone began vibrating on the bathroom sink. Chelsie ignored it and continued to fetch a washcloth and a new bar of soap. It buzzed again.
“Fine, I’ll bite,” she muttered, closing the closet door and walking back into the bathroom.
It was two missed calls from Lisa.
Chelsie had made amends with Lisa a few months after she’d left. They’d had an epic four-hour phone conversation and their friendship was saved. While they hadn’t seen each other in person since Chelsie left, they talked regularly via text and video chats.
Chelsie frowned when Lisa’s name lit up the screen for a third time. She answered quickly. “Lisa? What’s up?”
“Hey,” Lisa replied on the other end. “Did you see the news?”
A ball of anxiety twisted inside Chelsie’s stomach. “No, I just woke up. Why? What happened?”
“Chels… it’s Devon.”
“Devon?” Chelsie said in bewilderment. “What about Devon?”
Lisa fell silent on the other end, as if she were afraid to tell her.
“Lisa, what happened?”
“I’m so sorry, Chelsie. Devon is dead.”
Chelsie froze. Her blood ran cold. She could feel the color leaving her face and nausea creeping up into her esophagus. Was it possible she’d misheard her? “W – What?”
“They found him in his condo early this morning. The media is saying it was a drug overdose, but no one knows for sure yet.”
How could this be real? Chelsie hadn’t spoken to Devon in years, but this news shook her to the core. She had loved Devon Sawyer. She had created a life with him. She had seen a future with him.
Now, he was gone.
“Oh, my God… I don’t know what to say,” Chelsie choked out, bile rising in the back of her throat.
“I’m sorry I had to be the messenger,” Lisa said. Her voice was solemn. “I didn’t want you to see it on the news first.”
“I appreciate you calling me. I… I can’t believe it.”
Lisa paused. “Chels, do you need me to come down to stay with you? I don’t want you to go through this alone.”
Chelsie forced a smile. “Thank you, Lis, but I’ll be okay. I’m not alone at all.”
“Well, I’ll let you go,” Lisa replied with a sigh. “I’m so sorry.”
Chelsie was about to say her goodbyes, when a thought popped into her head. “Hey… can you let me know if there’s a service or something?”
Lisa hesitated. “You would come to New York?”
A bundle of nerves bubbled in Chelsie’s gut. “Yeah. I think I’d like to be there.”
“I’ll definitely keep you posted then.”
“Thanks, Lisa,” Chelsie replied. “Love you.”
Chelsie set the phone back down on the bathroom sink. Her old life flashed through her mind, buried memories clawing their way to the surface. She recalled all the sweet moments she’d shared with Devon – from their very first coffee date, to their bonding session over pot stickers at one of the band’s practices. She remembered the way she had felt when she’d picked up the phone that fateful day and heard Devon’s voice on the other line. She couldn’t believe he had called her after she’d stormed out of their V.I.P. suite.
It was a lifetime ago. Chelsie had been a completely different person then. Frightened, insecure, and ridden with guilt. She’d be lying if she said those guilty feelings weren’t inching their way back into her psyche – Chelsie had always felt responsible for Devon’s foray into the drug world.
She shook her head and took a long, calming breath. It wasn’t her fault. None of it was her fault.
The days proceeded on like a bad dream. Reporters had started coming out of the woodwork, asking for an interview and wanting to know how she felt about Devon’s death.
Horrible. Sick. Sad. That’s how any normal person would feel about the death of someone they once loved. Chelsie tried to avoid the cameras and media frenzy. She buried herself in her work and her relationships. She had spent an afternoon shopping with her mother and fishing with her father. She had enjoyed a quiet lunch with Elsa and Maggie. Chelsie appreciated the busy schedule – it kept her mind off things.
Chelsie’s phone buzzed one morning as she strolled into work.
“Good morning, Chelsie!” June greeted, as she ran a basket of spa towels down to the laundry room.
Chelsie smiled at her friend, then reached into her pocket for her phone. It was a text from Lisa.
“The service is tomorrow at three o’clock. Can you make it?”
Chelsie’s breath caught in her throat. That was in less than thirty-six hours. She had to research flight times, transportation, hotel… was this even realistic? Should she leave the past in the past?
June had stalled in her tracks after noticing the worried look on Chelsie’s face. “You okay, girl? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Chelsie glanced up, distracted. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I – I just found out that D
evon’s service is tomorrow. I wanted to be there, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”
Elsa poked her head out of her office. “Chelsie, go home. Book your flight. We’ll see you when you get back.”
Chelsie folded her lips between her teeth. She noticed her hand was trembling, so she put her phone back into her pocket. “I don’t know…”
“You need closure, Chels!” June spoke up. “You need this. You’ll always have this hanging over you if you don’t go. Say your goodbyes, girlfriend.”
“She’s right,” Elsa agreed, leaning against the doorframe. “Closure is necessary for healing. Take all the time you need.”
It was settled. Chelsie Combs was headed back to New York.
24 Chapter Twenty-Four
It was a foggy, damp day in New York City. It felt as if the entire city was mourning the loss of Devon Sawyer. Chelsie pulled her sweater around herself. She was no longer used to the chilly, northern air. She felt out of place as she hailed a cab, dodging the busy pedestrians on their cell phones, and cursing as she stepped into a puddle. There was so much noise. The smell of street-stand hot dogs filled the air and car horns blared as Chelsie hurried down the bustling sidewalk.
It was a short drive to the funeral home. Too short. Chelsie didn’t feel prepared. When the cab pulled up to the brick building, Chelsie almost told the driver to bring her back to the hotel. Her heart was beating rapidly, and her stomach had twisted with nerves and anxiety.
She pressed on, though. She had made it this far. Chelsie needed to see it through.
“Thank you,” she said to the driver, handing him his cash and stepping out onto the sidewalk in her black sandals. There were people everywhere. Family, friends, fans. It took Chelsie’s breath away. She took a few hesitant steps forward, her eyes darting left and right, unsure of who she may recognize.
Would Julia be there? They hadn’t spoken since Chelsie left town almost three years ago.
Miles? Tad?
Noah?
Chelsie felt sick to her stomach. I can’t do this.
“Chelsie!”
She stopped in her tracks. She recognized that voice.
Lisa.
The two friends embraced, and Chelsie had to fight back her tears. It had been a long time since she’d laid eyes on her best friend. Lisa’s red curls smelled like baby powder and they tickled Chelsie’s nose as they hugged.
“I’m so glad you came,” Lisa whispered against her ear.
Chelsie let the emotions run through her. She didn’t want to fight her feelings. “God, it’s good to see you,” Chelsie replied, pulling back and wiping the fallen tears from her cheeks.
They stared at each other, taking one another in and studying how much they had changed.
“You cut your hair,” Lisa noticed, sniffling back her own tears. “It looks really cute.”
Chelsie raised a hand to her shoulder-length bob. Her bangs had grown out and Chelsie wanted something with less maintenance. “Oh, thanks. I’m still getting used to it.”
“It suits you,” Lisa smiled.
She pushed a few rebellious strands of hair behind her ear. “And look at you. You’re in law school. I’m so proud of you.”
Lisa nodded with excitement. “It’s going really well. I’m so glad I decided to finally go for it. No more waiting tables,” she said.
Chelsie’s mind wandered to Julia. “Oh, hey… do you still talk to Julia? I texted her after I left, but I haven’t spoken to her since.”
“Julia moved to California about six months after you left. She sent me a Facebook message. According to her Instagram, she’s dating some D-list actor and living as a socialite near Los Angeles.”
Chelsie wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like Julia.”
“Yep.” Lisa seemed to catch sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She bit her lip and started fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I – I think that’s Miles,” she said to Chelsie.
Chelsie’s head jerked into the same direction. Sure enough, Miles stood at the entrance of the funeral home with a mystery woman by his side. Tad was standing beside him. Lisa had dumped Miles immediately after finding out he’d been cheating on her. As far as Chelsie knew, that was the last time they had spoken.
“Are you going to be okay?” Chelsie wondered. She reached out her arm and laid a comforting hand on Lisa’s shoulder.
Lisa straightened her posture and cleared her throat. “Of course. It’s just a little awkward, you know?”
Chelsie nodded in understanding.
“Are you going to talk to Noah?”
Just the sound of Noah’s name had her belly doing flip-flops. “Um, I’m not sure.” Lisa was the only person she had told about their last night together. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Lisa grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Well, if you change your mind, he’s right over there.”
Chelsie paled. Her eyes followed the direction of Lisa’s finger and her mouth went dry. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might crack a rib. She could feel Lisa squeezing her hand even tighter, sensing Chelsie’s ever-growing panic. “I can’t do this, Lis. I can’t be here. It’s too much.”
“You can do this,” Lisa assured her. “Walk inside. Say your goodbyes to Devon. Make peace with everything. Then… go back to your life.”
Chelsie nodded. She tried to concentrate on her breaths, her gaze falling back to Noah. Beth was by his side, her hands clutching a baby stroller. A young boy, maybe three-years-old, was running circles around them as they chatted with unfamiliar visitors.
Then there was Sam. He had grown so much. He was impossibly tall, and his hair had become shaggy, curling behind his ears. Chelsie wondered if he would remember her.
“Let’s go inside, okay?” Lisa said, nudging Chelsie’s side. “I’m right here with you.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Chelsie kept her eyes facing forward as they passed Noah and his family. All she could do was hope he didn’t recognize her.
When they were safely inside, they waited in line to pay their respects to Devon. It was a closed casket and Chelsie was grateful for that – seeing her ex-boyfriend lying in a coffin would be too much to bear. Just knowing he was in there was enough to make her stomach sour. When she was next to proceed, Chelsie pressed her hand on top of the mahogany coffin and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Devon. I’m sorry for letting you down in so many ways.” Hot tears pooled in her eyes. When she blinked, they fell down her face and landed on the shiny wood. “Thank you for all you did for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I’m a better person now, and I wish we could have made amends. I wish I could have fixed you.” She sighed. “Wherever you go, I hope you keep making music.”
Chelsie stepped away. A combination of remorse and peace washed over her as she spoke her final goodbyes.
Closure.
She settled by the snack bar that was garnished with plates of cheese, doughnuts, tea sandwiches and more sweet treats. There was lemonade and coffee. Devon loved coffee.
Chelsie turned around to let a woman access the snacks and almost bumped into someone. “Oh, excuse me…” She froze. Noah stood before her, his eyes burning into her. She felt dizzy – the room was spinning. It was hot. She couldn’t catch her breath. Chelsie reached over to hold herself steady against something, but there was nothing there. She lost her balance and Noah moved in quickly to pull her back to her feet.
“You okay?”
That voice. His voice. Chelsie had heard it on the radio, but this was different. He was here. He was real. Her Noah. His hand was still lingering on her elbow as she regained her footing – it was the first time they had touched in almost three years. The physical contact sent her mentally spiraling for just a moment; her entire universe seemed off-kilter. Chelsie reeled her emotions back in and let out a breath she had been holding for the last thirty seconds.
“Noah.” His name sounded foreign on her tongue, like a lost and forgotte
n language. Sacred – a thing of beauty.
Something that should remain entombed.
Noah released his hold on her arm, his movements slow and languishing. It was as if he was reluctant to let go. “I saw you walk in. I don’t want to bother you, I just…” He scratched the back of his neck, his features unreadable. His green eyes used to tell so many tales. “I’m sorry, I probably should have left you alone.”
Chelsie glanced over at Lisa, who had finished paying her respects. She was sipping a lemonade in the corner, giving them their space. Chelsie’s eyes fell back to Noah. “It’s okay. I’m not staying long.”
Noah put his hands into his pockets, the sleeves of his black button-down rolled up to his elbows. A tattoo of a guitar with various dates encompassing it had been newly etched into the fleshy side of his arm. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Gone. That word was so final; so conclusive. Chelsie wondered if Noah had felt a similar chill in his bones when he’d realized she was gone. She folded her sweater across her royal blue dress and looked down at the floor. “Me, too. I think I’m still processing everything.”
“Chelsie?”
Her head jerked to the right as the young, innocent voice registered in her brain. Sam. Sam had approached them with wide eyes and remnants of doughnuts on his face. “Sam… you remember me?”
Sam was seven years old now. He would be in second grade. He likely had epic birthday parties with his friends and video game marathons with his father. His dinosaur pajamas had probably been replaced with superhero or Minecraft designs. Chelsie wondered if he still had his Buzz Lightyear nightlight, or if that had also been replaced – or possibly, removed completely. Maybe Sam wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore.
Sam stood beside his father with a dumbfounded look on his face. “Of course, I remember you. Why did you leave?”
Oh, God. How could she possibly put into words why she’d left? What explanation would ever make sense to a young boy?
I had to stop trying to fix everyone else and finally fix myself.
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 29