Back to Me

by Lindsay Paige

  Our top four girls are horrible in doubles. Carrie is the number two seed and her bestie is number four. I’m certain Carrie’s attitude is why she doesn’t play well with our number one seed. I told Erica that the problem is a lack of chemistry. All she needs to do is play seeds one and three together and two and four together instead of one with two and three with four.

  While I jot down things the girls could improve on, which Erica will or will not acknowledge, I also keep track of score. There are five matches happening simultaneously, but it isn’t too hard to keep up. It’s actually harder to concentrate because Noah will be home tonight. He’s not getting in until late since they are flying home after a game. The good news is tomorrow morning is an optional skate since there’s a game tomorrow night, and I’m crossing my fingers that he’ll choose to skip.

  I’ve missed him more in this two weeks than I did in all the years we were apart. Now that I have him back in my life, I wonder how we lasted so long without one another. How did we live without hearing I love you or I miss you every day? How did we manage to not speak to one another for nearly eight years when we can’t go all day without doing so now? Life with Noah is so full of love and laughter, comfort and happiness. The little things feel like big things. The contentment of knowing a person so well and of anticipating his next words, his next touch is indescribable. For the first time in too long, there’s peace and a sense of being home.

  I didn’t even have that in my actual home.

  However, with all of that, there’s still a heaviness in my chest. Knowing that I’m going to tell Noah once he returns has brought about all sorts of anxiety, but in the back of my mind, I’m hoping that by telling him, the heaviness will alleviate. Maybe even completely disappear. That’s doubtful. At the very least, it can shrink to a more tolerable weight.

  I’ve worried over how Noah will respond. Whenever I try to imagine possible reactions, I come up blank. For my parents, it’s easier. But with Noah, I can’t seem to come up with anything. Part of me is ready to get it over while the other half just wants to keep it to myself for the rest of my life. He should know. He’s my best friend, the love of my life, and it’s something you share with that kind of person. I start planning my speech. I put together the perfect string of words in my head and hope they’ll leave in the order I’ve arranged.

  Thinking about this zones me out for the rest of the afternoon. My body is on autopilot throughout the matches, as I grab something to eat on the way home, take Leo out for his walk, shower, slip on Noah’s jersey with a pair of pajama shorts, and finally lie on the couch with my cuddle buddy to watch the game. My goal is to stay awake until Noah comes home. Conveniently, I have tomorrow off.

  I feel myself being lifted and my eyes slowly open. My head is against a neck.

  “Come on, Leo,” I hear Noah whisper.

  I lift my head. A smile easily lifts into place. “You’re home,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, Mere, I’m home.” He sets me on our bed before leaving me for the dresser. “Long day?” he asks over his shoulder. He’s already stripped down to his boxer-briefs, so I admire the muscles in his back and those thick thighs and bubble butt that seems to come along with every hockey player. Thank you, Hockey Gods.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  Noah brings me a pajama shirt. I toss it aside and throw my arms around him. He doesn’t hesitate in letting his arms hang around me. “I missed you,” he murmurs into my hair.

  “I missed you more.”

  His hands run up my back. “You’re my favorite part of coming home, especially when you look so fucking beautiful asleep and in my jersey.” His fingers grasp my hair, tugging gently, so I tilt my head back to look at him. His eyes are so intense as they search mine. “I still feel like you’re going to slip through my fingers and disappear on me.”

  “Never again,” I promise. A reason why I’m actually struggling with my attempt at a comeback. I don’t want to leave Noah. Ever. I like the new life I’ve built with him.

  If only I could come to terms with my career.

  Noah leans down and kisses me. I’m a bit confused because that kind of kiss—the soft, gentle, tender kiss—is what he gives me after an argument. It’s the everything-will-be-okay kiss. It always comes after an argument. However, we haven’t had an argument. Am I missing something?

  “What’s wrong?” I blurt out.

  Leo barks a pitiful little puppy bark, so Noah picks him up and sets him on the bed. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  His eyes shoot up from Leo to me. I rest my hands on his stomach, feel it tense underneath my touch, and wait for him to speak. Noah sighs. “Nothing. Promise. Things have been good with us and I know whatever you’re going to tell me when you decide to let me in is going to drop a bomb on us. I just...” He cups my neck. “We’ll be all right.”

  But his words are a reassurance for himself more so than for me. He’s worried damage will be done when I explain my past. That very well may happen. Maybe he’s worried that I’ll do what I’ve been doing: running away and falling apart. His day off is Saturday, and I plan to bare my secrets then.

  “We’ll be all right,” I repeat.

  Hopefully, that’s true.

  He kisses me softly just once more before crawling into bed and holding me. It’s reassuring.

  Noah’s not going to let go of me now or after I’ve bared my soul to him.

  He’s going to hold on for dear life.

  “Almost there,” I breathe. My fingers curl in Noah’s hair and I struggle with holding him down or yanking him up because I can’t take it anymore. “Ooooohhhhh goooooodddd,” I groan, my legs squeezing around his head while I fall apart from my second orgasm of the morning. Noah woke me up with some strategic touches, made love to me, and then kissed his way down my body to set me off again. As the waves begin to settle, my legs fall back open, my fingers release their hold, and my bones melt to make me feel weak and satisfyingly exhausted. Noah crawls up my body with a cocky grin. That’s the first time he’s done what he just did since we’ve been back together. “You know, you’ve gotten way better at that.”

  He tilts his head. “Are you saying I was bad before?”

  In my happy delirium, I nod. “You were sloppy; I may have faked a few times.”

  “You faked?”

  I giggle at his astonishment.

  “This is not a laughing matter.”

  “You can’t be surprised that teenage Noah sucked at oral.”

  “Teenage Mere was fucking great at oral,” he says and I bark out a laugh.

  “That’s because I was with teenage Noah! You were always easy to get off.”

  He shakes his head at me, but there’s a smile on his face. “You know, people are going to think I’m sick or something,” he says, changing the subject.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never missed an optional skate; it’ll be noticed.”

  “Should you go then?” I hate that I feel so out of the loop when it comes to his career. That’s like Sylvia is begging me to go to lunch with her and some of the other wives and girlfriends, but I’ve created excuses each time. Some of them were legit, most were not. I don’t feel like I fit in yet. Some of them revolve their lives around their men and the organization. Some don’t. Some seem to do both. I don’t even know that I’d want get as involved as some of them. I worry that I’ll lose myself like I did with Vance.

  I may have been a phenom, but Vance has been the best male tennis player for three years straight. My fame had nothing on him. Absolutely nothing. I wasn’t known as Meredith Quick, tennis player. I was known as Vance Powers’s girlfriend. Not even as Meredith or a girl who happened to play tennis as well. Being lost in the shuffle was liberating at first, but soon, and especially after my injury, I felt lost. Meredith all but vanished. I struggled to maintain a sense of self while Vance overshadowed me. He made sure when we were together that his light shone brighter than m
ine. He wanted me to be his version of the perfect spouse and it was so hard to fit into the cutout he made for me. My biggest fear used to be who am I without tennis. That battled with who am I with Vance.

  Looking back, it’s easy to see how he smothered me. Noah gives me plenty of space for what I want while also making sure I give him what he wants and we do what we both want. It was almost always about Vance. He wanted me more involved in his life without reciprocating even a little. Toward the end, it was a relief that Vance wanted to end our relationship. Between my injury and being with him, I didn’t know who the hell I was anymore. In some regards, I still don’t.

  Shouldn’t I feel secure in my life and who I am by now? I’m not a teenager. I’m not in my early twenties anymore. Why haven’t I figured life out yet? Why haven’t I figured myself out yet? Things only worsened when my engagement ended and the events that followed did not help. I’ve been stagnant, lost in between my life without Noah and tennis, but I’m beginning to find my way.

  I think.

  “Mere?” Noah’s soft, worried tone snaps me out of my thoughts. “Where’d you go?” He taps my temple before moving to lie next to me.

  The weight of the disaster of my life while looking at the beautiful man who could care less and wants me after all that’s happened hits me all at once. How do I even begin to explain what’s going on in my head? Swallowing hard, I whisper, “I need to tell you today.” I need to get it all out before I explode. Before I overthink, overanalyze, and over-plan what can’t really be planned to start with.

  Noah nods. “Okay. Shower, breakfast, and then we’ll talk.”

  He doesn’t waste any time getting out of bed, holding his hand out, which I take, and leading us to the shower. He takes over, washing me with the utmost care while I focus on doing the same for him. Noah doesn’t say anything when the tears begin to fall. The worry dominates in those brown eyes of his, in the pinch of his brows, in the frown already on his face. When we’re finished, we dress. Noah takes Leo for a walk and I get started on breakfast.

  Nothing is said while we eat. He’s watching me, but I focus on my plate of food. The longer it takes, the more I withdraw into myself. I can’t do this. I can’t say those words. I can’t relive the past. I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to see the surprise, the pain, and the pity in his eyes. I don’t want to see how telling him may affect our relationship. I’ll tell him I’ve changed my mind. But what will holding the past hostage from him do to our relationship? Now that I have him, I can’t be without him again.

  Noah’s phone blares from the bedroom, so he gets up to answer it. The minutes tick by as my anxiety rises. My thoughts are like a ball on the tennis court.

  I can do it.

  No, I can’t.

  Yes, I can.

  No, I can’t.

  Yes, I can.

  I have no choice.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  Maybe it’s Marc. I almost hope it is. Only one way to find out.

  I open the door and feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut when I see Vance standing on the other side. My heart immediately bounces around in my chest. Oh my god. No. “How’d you find me?” I’m barely able to speak loud enough for him to hear me.

  “Searched your name online and found out where you worked. Your boss, Erica, told me.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, even though I know. There’s only one reason Vance would want to speak or see me again. Fuck, what am I going to do? Not only do I have to tell Noah, but I have to tell it to this despicable man?

  That’s when Vance glances down at my stomach. He tilts his head. The slight bit of worry confuses me. “You’ve already had the baby?” he asks, surprised.

  All I can do is shake my head as my throat closes up. No, no, no, no, no.

  This is not what I planned! This is happening all wrong. Why is it happening to me at all? Haven’t I been through enough? Isn’t telling Noah enough?

  His eyes harden and the fury I remember is back on his face. “So, I was right? You were lying the entire time?” His harsh tone makes me flinch. Vance takes a step closer, invading my space, his face only two inches from my own. Then he beings to yell. “You bitch! I can’t believe this. I’ve been searching high and low for your fucking ass and I was right that you lied!” He shoves a finger at my chest. It’s a hard enough poke that it catches me off guard and I stumble a step backward.

  “What’s going on?” Noah says from behind me as my voice cracks while I try to explain, “I didn’t lie!”

  “Then where’s the baby, Meredith?” Vance shouts.

  “Baby?” I faintly hear Noah question.

  “Why do you even care?” I scream. The rage of his accusation from so long ago that I’ve held in all this time finally pushes me over the edge. “You thought I was trying to trap you, Vance! You wanted nothing to do with me and thought I would actually lie about something like that. You told me even if I wasn’t lying, you wanted nothing to do with us!”

  “Well I changed my mind!” he yells. He’s so close to my face, one small movement and our noses would be touching. From the corner of my eye, I see Noah grab Vance’s shoulder and nudge Vance away from me.

  “Why? Why the fuck couldn’t you just stay away?” I fire back.

  “Because I got married,” he starts eerily calm, “and when I told her what happened, she told me I needed to step up and find you, be part of the baby’s life, and come to find out, it was all a lie!” he finishes in a shout.

  “I didn’t lie!”

  “Then where is the baby, Meredith? Where the fuck is our baby?” He goes to take another step closer, but Noah’s arm shoots out to become a barrier to keep him away from me.

  “Dead!” I scream, and the silence immediately envelopes us. The loudest noise is my hard breathing from the yelling. I take a deep breath. My hands are shaking and I’m ready to give up. “I lost the baby,” I say in a quiet, trembling voice, barely able to keep it together. “And it wasn’t any of your fucking business since you thought I was lying in the first place.”

  There’s three beats of silence as they both stare at me with wide eyes.

  “Mere.”

  My eyes close at the sound of Noah’s soft voice. I swallow hard, shake my head, and turn to run down the hall toward the bedroom, leaving the stunned men behind.

  VANCE LOOKS SHAKEN by the news, and I feel sick. Clearing my throat, I say, “You can have a seat if you need a minute before you leave.” Because he is leaving. I don’t wait for his reply. I follow after Meredith. How in the fuck do I wrap my mind around this, around something Mere was going to tell me today, and compose myself before I face her?

  Meredith is lying face down on our bed, and Leo is looking up at the bed, wondering how he’s going to get up there since he can’t jump that high yet. She’s sobbing uncontrollably, the worst I’ve ever seen. I crawl over her body and let my weight rest on her, though not all of it, as I prop myself on my elbows and press my face into her neck, her hair tickling my face.

  “It gets worse,” she whispers. Her voice is cracked and as broken as she is. I wonder if she pretended to be okay with me, when she wasn’t thinking about it, or if I’ve been helping her heal. Then, I realize what she said.

  Fuck. How can it get worse?

  Her shoulder bumps mine, so I lift myself for her to roll over before lowering my body again. She finds solace in my neck as her arms wrap around me. She doesn’t say anything. She only holds on tight with strength I didn’t know she had. I don’t push her. I don’t ask questions. I roll us onto our sides so I can hold her. That’s all.

  Her tears dry up. My neck is soaked. Her breathing is shaky.

  “I know it’s not my fault, but...” The sentence trails off into her hiccups.

  “Talk to me, Mere,” I whisper.

  She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry you found out like that, Noah.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I quickly interject, wishing sh
e’d just get on with it. “I know you were going to tell me.”

  Meredith squeezes her eyes closed, two fresh tears falling. “The day before it happened, I broke down into tears because all I could think about was you. Vance had already blown up at me and I was back in Pittsburgh. I was heartbroken because it felt like a permanent end to us, like I’d forever lost my chance, and I had the gall to be upset because it wasn’t your baby. I wished I could start all over, go back to you, and go through it with you. The next day, I lost my baby.” She’s holding on by a thread. I can see the battle in her eyes to hold on instead of falling apart again. Her fingers dig into my skin.

  “Mere,” I start quietly. “Just because you wished those things didn’t mean you wanted to lose, and wouldn’t love, what you were given instead. I’m so sorry you went through that alone and have been holding that in, and maybe this isn’t the time to say it, but you’re here. We’re together. You’ll have my baby.”

  “But what if I don’t? What if that was my one chance and I lost it?”

  “It’ll happen, Mere. We eventually made our way back to one another, we can eventually make that happen, too. You deserve the world, and I’m determined to give it to you, Mere. One way or another, yeah?” She nods and the fact that she’s letting me ease her worries, that she trusts me that much...if my heart could skip a beat, it just did. While I have her like this, I add, “You gotta tell your parents.”

  “I know,” she whispers. “I’ll need to go home for that, but I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “You can ask them to come here if you don’t want to do it alone.”

  She only nods.

  “I’ll be right back.” I hate to leave her, but I want to make sure the prick is gone. How do you accuse your fiancée of lying about a pregnancy because you think she wants to keep you from ending the engagement? I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for Meredith.

  Vance is sitting on my couch when I walk into the living room.