The Truth About Lennon

by K. L. Grayson

  Oh my God. My stomach rolls. I knew my mother was self-centered, looking out for what’s best for her and my father, but I didn’t think she’d stoop to this level.

  “Is that why you want us back together so bad? Because you’re afraid Joseph won’t pay for Daddy’s precious campaign?” Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head. “I can’t believe you. You care about some stupid election more than your own daughter.”

  “Keep your voice down,” she admonishes. “You’re being dramatic.”

  “I am not being dramatic,” I hiss, so frustrated I don’t give a damn who hears me. This is my event anyway. “I’m pissed. You don’t give a damn about what I want and what’s right for me. You’re all about the money and the social status, and that’s not who I am.”

  “It is who you are—”

  “You don’t know who I am.” Desperate for a breath of fresh air, I hike up my skirt and weave through the ballroom. I don’t stop until I’m in the courtyard, at which time I double over and suck in a deep breath.

  How could my mother be so heartless?

  Who am I kidding? I knew she was like that; she’s proven it time after time. But I can’t help it. She’s my mother, and I wanted to believe that somewhere in that cold heart of hers was a place for me.

  It’s obvious now that I was wrong. She’s never going to change, and I can’t be a part of this family—of this life—anymore. This life isn’t for me. And my parents, even Brenna—they’ll never be the family I need them to be.

  I stand up straight, resolve settling deep in my bones. I went to Heaven to try to find myself, to prove that I could be who I want to be, and I’ve done that. If I’m being honest, I did it even before I went to Heaven. I’ve created a thriving charity, and I’ve built up a portfolio of dresses that people are showing quite a bit of interest in. And I’ve done it on my own, mostly from the comfort of my living room, whether that living room was in New York or Texas.

  So where does that leave me now? One thing I know for certain, I don’t want it to leave me here. I don’t want New York to be my home. Getting my own space, away from my parents and so-called friends is imperative to my well being. Just because I can’t have a life with Noah and Nova doesn’t mean I can’t make my life what I want it to be. I’m through with letting others control me. I can do this.

  I take a deep breath and smile, happy to have a plan. I’ll take my time, find somewhere that’ll suit me.

  Somewhere like Heaven.

  I close my eyes at the thought of Heaven, wondering what Noah and Nova are doing right this second. She’s probably having a tea party, and he’s—

  “Lennon.”

  Oh great, now I’m hearing Noah’s voice. Am I truly, finally losing it? Pressing my hands to my ears, I rub, trying to drown out the sound, but then a large, warm hand lands on my back, shooting a spark straight up my spine.

  I know that hand.

  That touch.

  Noah.

  I turn around and come face to face with him. His dark hair is an utter mess, and I wonder how many times he’s run his hands through it. He’s wearing a tuxedo and a nervous smile. His gaze drifts up and down my body appreciatively before finding my eyes, but when he does, what I see there causes hope to spark in my chest, which I quickly push away because I’ve already accepted that we can’t be together. I won’t be my mother. I will put Nova and Noah first. I’ll just use this chance to have the closure I need.

  It’s possible that’s why he’s here anyway. For closure.

  Truly, why is he here? He’s wanted nothing to do with me.

  There’s something different about him tonight, and I’m not talking about the exquisite cut of his tux—which looks damn good on him—I’m talking about the look in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” his smooth voice rolls over me, wrapping me in its warm southern drawl and waking up parts of my body and soul I thought were lost forever. For the first time since coming back to New York, I feel like I’m actually home.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  Noah looks around at the lush courtyard outside of the ballroom, and my eyes follow his. There’s a fountain the size of a small house in the middle, and it’s surrounded by rows upon rows of lush bushes and brightly colored flowers, all separated by stone walking paths. The beauty of the garden is something out of a magazine, and one of the main reasons I chose this particular venue for the ball.

  “I’m actually lost,” he says, turning back toward me.

  “I don’t mean here in the courtyard,” I say, reaching out to touch his cheek, needing to feel him one last time and assure myself that I’m not dreaming. “What are you doing in New York?” Unable to help myself, I run his hair through my fingers. I jerk my hand back, only to have Noah catch it on the way down.

  “Keep touching me,” he whispers, cupping my hand in his.

  He tugs me closer, his scent—clean and woodsy—washing over me. It’s intoxicating, and oh, how I’ve missed it.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Lennon. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I’m sorry for not coming after you sooner, and I’m even more sorry for not believing you.”

  This can’t be real.

  Noah and I broke up. He didn’t believe me. He’s in Heaven, and I’m in New York, I remind myself. This has to be a mistake. I’m dreaming, or maybe someone spiked my drink. Yes, that must be it, and now I’m hallucinating. I look down, and there are his big, callused hands wrapped snugly around mine. Emotion creeps up my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push his face from my head and pull my hands from his grip, and it works.

  The warm touch of his hands is gone, leaving mine cold, but suddenly that warm touch is on my face. Then his soft lips find mine, and my eyes fly open because this is real.

  Noah’s brown eyes stare down at me with so much love and affection, and more than a little determination—it’s an image I’ll remember as long as I live.

  “I understand what you were trying to tell me. I believe you. If I’m not too late, I’d like to hear your side of the story,” he says, slowly lowering his hands. “All of it.”

  This is what I had been hoping for, the chance to explain everything with his trust in me allowing him to believe it. But now that I seem to have that, I’m not sure what to do with it. Suddenly all my plans are unclear. Will this change anything?

  Swallowing, I decide just to take it from the beginning. “Mathis and I had been apart for nearly a year when he called me one night. He was drunk, trying to apologize for cheating on me, and threatening to kill himself. He said he missed me and he couldn’t live without me.”

  I shake my head, remembering my panic. “I didn’t really think he’d kill himself, but it wasn’t something I could take a chance with. Foolishly, I went to him, found him at a club with our friends, and stayed by his side all night, trying to talk him down. It was pointless, because he wasn’t himself. He was in a very altered state. On our way out of the club, it was all I could do to keep him upright, and a few feet from the car, he went down and took me with him.

  “Of course the paparazzi were there to capture every glorious moment, including the part where my skirt flew up around my face. As you’ve seen, pictures from that night were splattered across the internet in a matter of hours. It was the single most embarrassing moment of my life, and I had no idea it was about to get worse.”

  I pause, wondering if any of this matters.

  “Please, keep going,” Noah says, his face calm, his eyes warm.

  Reliving this is the last thing I want to do, but I will, for him. “The next day, Mathis apologized. He swore he’d just been drunk and would never really hurt himself. He begged me to forgive him. I wasn’t in love with him anymore—probably never had been—so I reminded him that we couldn’t get back together, but I forgave him, thinking it would be good closure for us both.

  “So when he made a similar call to me a few nights later, once again threatening to kill himself, I got pissed. Now I could
see he was doing it to jerk me around, playing with my emotions. So I hunted him down, and I screamed and yelled at him, and he screamed and yelled back. At one point he got mad, threw me up against a wall, and then instantly backed down, pleading with me to forgive him.

  “I just wanted to be done, Noah. Done with Mathis. Done with the games. Done with that part of my life. I knew we had to sit down and have a serious talk so I could get through to him, so we agreed to go back to my parents’. Only we didn’t even make it three blocks down the road. I was driving us, and we got pulled over. The cops found cocaine and heroin in Mathis’s car.”

  Blood rushes in my ears as I remember how pissed I was. “I didn’t even know he was using, and when the police confronted him, he lied and told them the drugs were mine. Long story short, we were both arrested. He came clean a few days later, and the charges against me were dropped. But by then the damage was done. The story was already everywhere. The media and paparazzi were relentless. Pictures from those nights haunted me, and they haunted my father, putting a strain on the campaign. My father forced me to take a drug test, which of course came back clean because I’ve never touched drugs in my life, and Mathis’s father forced him into rehab. He finally admitted he’d started using not long after we broke up.

  “For weeks I was followed every single day. And my father couldn’t leave his house without being bombarded by cameramen just waiting to assault him with questions about me, and that’s when he and his assistant got the bright idea that I needed to get away—away from the city and the media and Mathis.

  “I was frustrated and angry at the whole situation, but determined to make the best of it, and then I met you,” I say, looking Noah in the eye. “I met you and realized none of that stuff mattered. Mathis didn’t matter. The lies and articles, none of it mattered.”

  Noah brings his hands back to my face. “I need you to forgive me, Lennon.”

  “I understand why this was hard for you to hear and process, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should’ve said something when you told me about Kim, but I was scared to lose you. I should be the one asking you for forgiveness. I would give anything to rewind time and tell you sooner. I’m so sorry, Noah. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that.”

  With my face cradled in his hands, Noah shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize, Lennon. I should’ve believed you. I should’ve trusted what I already knew about you, not what I saw on the internet.”

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I understand why you didn’t.”

  He hugs me for a moment and then says, “You invested in Ricky, Lennon. Why did you do that?”

  My eyes widen. Of course Noah found out about that. “Because you believe in him, and I believe in you, and it seemed like a good investment.”

  “And you made my daughter a dress. Why?”

  “Because I love her.” I smile, picturing her in it.

  Noah gives me chagrined look. “I didn’t give Nova the dress right away.”

  “Oh, no?” I ask.

  “And that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done,” he adds in a rush. “She loves the dress, Lennon. She loves you.”

  God, that hurts, knowing I won’t get to see her in it. “I’m glad she likes it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Nova. I want to talk about you and us and how sorry I am. Finding your letter to Nova and finding out what you’ve done for Ricky reminded me of who you are, reminded me of all the reasons I fell in love with you. They—okay, and Mikey—gave me the motivation I needed to get off of my ass and re-evaluate everything you’d told me, as well as my life.”

  He just told me he’s in love with me, and I desperately want to hear him say it again, but I won’t ask. I don’t know what to think or what to do right now.

  Finally I say, “And what did you find out after you sorted through everything?”

  “That my life is better with you in it. Nova’s life is better with you in it. You bring a peace that I didn’t know was missing. You fill a void I didn’t know was empty, and I was a fool to push you away.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard.” Noah grins that panty-dropping grin, and I instinctively push myself closer to him. “I spent nearly fifty bucks on Starbursts, but once I handed over all the pink ones, Charlotte gave up her tickets for tonight.”

  My heart constricts.

  “Did you come by yourself? Is Nova here?” I ask, looking around.

  “No. Mikey came with me. He’s here somewhere. Probably at the bar.”

  We both laugh, and then Noah’s face grows somber.

  “About that apology I owe you…”

  I squeeze Noah’s hands, using them for leverage to keep me upright, because these are the words I’ve been waiting for, the words I’ve needed to hear.

  “It was wrong of me to believe the media over you. I was shocked and hurt, and I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. For a second, it was Kim all over again, and all I could think about was Nova and how I didn’t want to put her through that, but I wasn’t fair to you. I lost sight of us there for a minute, but I’m done screwing up.”

  I give him a look, and he shrugs.

  “Okay, I’m sure I’ll still screw up. But I promise I’ll never second-guess you again. I’ll never walk away without truly hearing your side, and I swear to God, if you let me, I’ll love you, Lennon, with every fiber of my being, every second of every day for the rest of my life.”

  “Noah—”

  “Lennon?” Jane, my assistant at Children Everywhere, pops her head out the door. “Almost everyone is gone, but Trevor Fallon has been looking for you. He wants to have a few words with you before he leaves.”

  I nod. “Thank you, Jane. I’ll be right there.” I wait for her to duck back inside before looking at Noah. “I’m sorry, but I need to go talk to him.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he says. “This is your event. Do what you need to do. I’ll wait.”

  I smile, still unsure what all of this means.

  He flew across the country to see me, to apologize and hear what I had to say. Maybe I should re-evaluate my previous thoughts and plan. If we’re both in this for the long haul, ready and willing to work through whatever life throws our way, maybe there’s hope for us after all.

  But first, Mr. Fallon.

  With a hand pressed to the small of my back, Noah leads me into the hall where Trevor is waiting. “I’ll be over here,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. I watch him walk across the floor and take a seat at the near-empty bar next to Mikey.

  Mikey glances over his shoulder once Noah is seated and catches my eye. He waves, and I wave back before turning toward Trevor.

  “Thank you so much for coming tonight, Trevor,” I say, leaning in for a hug. He kisses my left cheek and then my right.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This is quite the organization you’ve got going.”

  “Thank you. It means so much to me.”

  “It shows. But I wasn’t exactly wanting to talk to you about the charity.”

  I tilt my head to the side and smile. “What can I help you with?”

  “Your designs. They’re beautiful. Perfect, really. And just what my line needs.”

  Pride and excitement and a million other emotions fill me up, along with a giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want to jump up and down, throw my hands in the air, and give myself a high five, but I don’t. Instead, I clasp my fingers together in front of my body.

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I put just as much love into my designs as I do this charity. They’re my passions.”

  “You’re special, Lennon. There’s just something about you that people love. Whenever you get some time, I’d like for us to sit and down and see if we can work out a contract. I want you on my team.”

  “I’m flattered, Trevor. And it would be a honor to work with you, but I have to be honest. I don’t plan on staying in New York.”


  I look around the room at the chandeliers, the crystal glasses scattered on the tables, and the few remaining people dressed in designer gowns and suits, and I know my decision to leave is the right one.

  “I want to get away from the city; I want to be somewhere quiet.” Somewhere like Heaven.

  Trevor smiles warmly. “I don’t care where you are, Lennon. That’s details. I just need you.”

  Perfect answer. “I’d like that.”

  “Great.” Reaching for my hand, Trevor kisses my knuckles. “We’ll keep in touch. Get settled wherever you’re going to be, and then reach out. You’ve got an amazing career ahead of you, Lennon, and I want to be part of it.”

  Pressing my lips together, I nod, desperately trying to keep my excitement bottled up until Trevor is out of the room. Once he’s gone, I do a little happy dance right there in the ballroom.

  “I love seeing you smile like that,” Noah whispers from behind me.

  I whirl around and throw myself at him. He wraps me in his arms, pulling me close as I squeal in delight. “That was Trevor Fallon,” I squeal.

  His smile is bright, but he shakes his head. “Who is Trevor Fallon?”

  “He’s with one of the top fashion houses in New York. And he wants to work with me. He loves my designs.” I laugh, hugging him tight again. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Congratulations—”

  His words are cut off by the band announcing their final song of the evening. They begin playing a slow rendition of Christina Perri’s “Arms.”

  “Dance with me.” Noah laces his fingers through mine, and I let him lead me to the middle of the dance floor.

  Lowering his mouth to my ear, Noah whispers, “Everyone’s staring. Do I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe?”

  He laughs, and tears well up in my eyes. My heart is so full. Full of love, but also spinning because I still don’t know exactly what to do about him and Nova.

  “No.” I run my fingers through his hair, lacing them together at the back of his head. “They’re staring at you because you’re incredibly handsome, and they’re all wondering how I got so lucky.”