My smile is wide as I step into the warm spray, the evening replaying before my eyes, the promise of tomorrow strong, but just as the excitement builds in my gut, it twists. It twists until it’s painful, and suddenly, I can’t breathe.
The calm from moments ago washes away with the water, swirling down the drain, taking me with it. Before I realize I’ve moved, I’m tucked into the corner, my legs drawn tight, my head buried against my knees.
I begin to cry.
At first, it’s emotionless, confusing tears, but slowly, the ache lets itself be known.
The shame seeps in.
And the guilt is nearly too much.
For weeks now, as I told the doctor, I’ve been silently screaming to remember what I’ve forgotten by blocking out what I knew, because what I knew was too painful and what I didn’t, I was desperate for.
So I pushed it all away, the good, the bad, and the sad.
The precious.
A sob racks through me, and I give into it.
I let it consume me.
Alone in the corner of the shower, I cry for all the things I’ve tried to force from my mind, but ache within me every day, nonetheless.
I cry for the child I lost, who I can hardly bring myself to acknowledge because the agony and loss it brings is unbearable. Downright devastating.
Being a mom is what I want most in the world and here I am, too weak to even think about the little life that’s no more.
The door is thrown open, and Cameron’s wide eyes appear. “Oh, sister…”
Taking the towel off the counter, she quickly turns off the water, drops to her knees beside me and wraps me in it, hugging herself to me.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Today was so much fun but—” I break off in another choked sob.
“But what?”
“I don’t know!” I shout. “I don’t know what the ‘but’ is for, but I feel it. Constantly. It follows me. Every step I take the ‘but’ is right there.”
Something fucking stings and she doesn’t understand.
No one does.
Not even me.
An overwhelming sense of self-hate slips in and my shoulders coil.
“I haven’t allowed myself to think of what I’ve lost in weeks, Cameron. I pushed away the one thing I knew for certain. Who does that?!” Tears pour down my face. “Who pushes away a memory that should be treasured?”
I haven’t spoken of or permitted the smallest hint of remembrance of the child that was growing inside me. My child.
I can’t even bring myself to go near Payton’s, that’s how hard it is.
“It hurts, Cam. My bones literally feel like they’re cracking when I think of him.” I admit. “I think it would have been a him. A boy. I don’t know why.” I shake my head. “But every time I touch my stomach, or accidentally wonder about him, I feel like I’m having a heart attack.”
“It’s okay, Ari,” she murmurs.
A bitter laugh leaves me, and I swipe at my nose. “No, it’s not. You just have no idea what else to say.”
“It is okay—”
“It’s not,” I snap when I don’t mean to. “I’m just pathetic. Completely fucking pathetic.”
Panic flares behind my chest, and it swells, locking off my airway, and I start to sweat. It’s as if my brain starts flashing, all these moving pictures and words, each blurrier than the last.
I might vomit.
“I don’t want to hide from myself anymore, but I can’t do this. Sometimes I want to swallow a handful of sleeping pills and hope when I wake, everything is different.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I feel that, Cam. I won’t, but I want to. I’m helpless. I feel like a fucking fraud, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
My muscles win out and my body hangs like dead weight.
My head falls to the tile, and while my eyes are open, I see nothing.
I think I scream, but I can’t be sure.
I hear nothing.
But a loud bang has me blinking, and I find my brother standing there.
His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. He bends, scooping me up off the floor. When he speaks, his voice cracks, “Come here, little sister.”
He lowers me to my mattress, and Cameron quickly tosses a blanket over me, dragging the towel off me from under it.
Tears roll down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me. “I can’t do this, Mason.”
My brother’s grip on my hand tightens. He holds my gaze a long moment, his chest inflating with his full breath. He licks his lips, but he doesn’t speak until my lips pull into a small, encouraging smile.
Nerves have him fidgeting, but then he sets his shoulders straight, his eyes trained on mine.
“I know you’re confused and heartbroken in ways I can’t even imagine, but I need you to know something, something I’m dead fucking afraid to say, but that needs saying regardless.” He shifts on his knees, his free hand clasping over our joined ones. “I need you to know that as much as you’re hurting right now, as much as you’ve been, that there is a man out there who is hurting just as fucking much, with every breath he takes.” I suck in a choppy breath, and my brother’s eyes gloss over. “And not for himself, but for you.” His attention falls to my stomach. “For both of you.”
My lips tremble. “There is?”
“Yeah, baby sister.” He blinks, moisture shining along his lash line. “There is.”
My eyes squeeze shut and I nod. Slowly, he leans forward, kissing my temple before he releases me and falls against the wall at his back.
Cameron crawls into bed beside me, facing me on top of the covers.
Slowly, my breathing settles, and a soft smile pulls at her lips.
Tears fall from Cameron’s eyes, and when I reach up, wiping them away, she chuckles.
My eyes close, and a little while later, the sound of my door opening and closing has me stirring. My brother is gone, but Cameron is sound asleep in front of me. Whispers from the hall reach my ears.
“Tell me she’s okay.”
“She’s not. She’s pushing it all away. She’s going to break.”
“I’m going in.”
“I don’t think it’s the best time for that.”
“She’s mine, Mason. I should be the one to hold her. To remind her that she’s stronger than she knows.”
I drift off again, my dream full of a flashing color.
Of blue.
Of a bottomless, brilliant, ocean night blue.
His.
I’m his.
Whose?
Noah
* * *
Yesterday was rough. Last night was worse.
That seems to be the downward trend.
I wake wishful, and I go to sleep weak and weighted. I keep waiting for the moment when things will get better, but they don’t. Every day brings a new mountain to climb, and it only gets higher, steeper. It’s as if I’m at the bottom with a broken harness and no rope.
Except there seems to be an invisible one wrapped around my chest, and it tightens every time I look up to see her smiling face, pointed at a man who’s not me.
My mom’s going to realize things are getting worse the moment I’m in front of her, so I make a quick stop in the bathroom, splash some water on my face and take a moment to mask the broken man in the mirror.
It takes a little less effort when I reach her, finding her bed raised to the highest sitting position and a smile on her face.
“Hey, Mom.” I slip closer, my grin feeling a little foreign. I notice the wheelchair beside the bed and then Cathy steps around me.
“Hey, Noah.” She offers a small smile, meeting my eyes for a moment before focusing on my mom. “This young woman here has been watching the clock for you today.”
My mom swats at her playfully, and then she does something I’ve yet to see her accomplish, maneuvers her hips at a ninety-degree angle. On her own.
Her eyes come up to mine and a
low chuckle leaves me. “Whoa, now. What’s this?” I rush around, unable to control the smile on my face as she reaches for me.
Taking her right hand in mine, I guide her, ready to support her left side, should she need me to, but she twists, planting right into the seat. Bent at the knee, I look up at her, and I’m almost overcome, but I don’t want to spoil this, so I swallow it back. “Someone has been killing it in therapy, huh?”
My mom laughs gently. “I’m feeling great, son.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I push to my feet, leaning in to hug her. “So, where we going?”
“Cathy says there’s little cakes in the cafeteria next door. Thought we could try it out, see if it’s anything like mine.”
I chuckle, my knee bouncing. “Doubtful.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see. Besides, the coffee here tastes like used grinds, so I could use one step up.”
“You know I would have brought you something if you’d have asked.”
She waves me off, patting at the wheel, so I slip behind her, gripping the handles. “I wanted to go with you. I hear the decorations are still up in there.”
Smiling, I nod at Cathy and off we go.
Two slices of chocolate cake and an abandoned cup of coffee later, my mom sighs, her eyes on the giant nutcracker outside the long windows. She trails along the lit-up garland to the snowman holding a Christmas book.
“Do you remember the year we spent Christmas in the mountains?” She looks to me. “You said you didn’t want any gifts, but a night in the snow, so we booked that small cabin for one night?”
“And then we got snowed in and got to stay for another night for free.”
My mom laughs, a softness falling over her. “Yeah, we got lucky, didn’t we?”
She turns back to the table, picking at the frosting left on her plate, her eyes roaming the room with such joy, my throat thickens.
I’ve waited for this for so long, to see her up and around and happy to be in the world again, but her body has been too weak. She would try but moving into the chair alone would take so much energy, she’d be too tired for anything other than a short walk around the rehab facility.
The hardest part for me was not knowing the way she felt when she was alone, but I imagine the undeserved guilt she had in the beginning seeps in sometimes, and a wave of helplessness follows, but she still has so much life in her; I see it when I visit her. Every time I step into the room, she’s the mother I’ve always known, kind and loving and selfless.
Today helps prove it.
She’s getting stronger, there’s light in her eyes, and her movements have yet to grow heavy, even though we’ve been sitting here for over an hour now.
I needed this.
My world is so fucked up, but right now, seeing my mother turn to the woman a table over, chatting about the poinsettias and how red is the classic color everyone should stick with, everything feels okay. For the first time in forever, I feel like I can breathe.
A little while later, it’s time to take my mom back.
Inside her room, she ushers for me to sit, so I drop in the chair across from her.
“I had a dream last night,” she whispers softly. “It was Christmas Eve, and you were sitting by a tree with a box in your hand. You opened it and this…” She digs inside the small pocket over her chest. “Was inside.”
A small frown builds along my brow as my mother lowers a wedding band into my palm.
“Do you remember this ring?” she wonders.
Shaking my head, I lift it, eyeing the little diamonds along the side. “You found it when you were six or seven. You saw the neighbor using his metal detector, and he let you borrow it, so we took it down to the pier. We spent hours walking around and didn’t find a thing. Not even a bottle cap. You were about to give up, almost in tears, when suddenly, it beeped.”
A vague memory settles over me as I set the ring in my palm and look to her.
“This is the ring you dug up. You wrapped it and gave it to me for Christmas that year.”
“I do remember,” I rasp, a smile tugging at my lips. “You cried.”
She laughs. “I did. And then I had it properly cleaned and I saved it for you. I almost forgot about it until last night.”
“Your dream?”
She nods. “Yeah, it was sitting there in the box, and your hands started shaking when you pulled it out, but they stopped the moment you slid it on her finger.”
I swallow and my mother’s eyes grow soft. She takes my hand, squeezing.
“Mom…”
She reaches up, cupping my cheek as tears pool in her eyes.
“I am so proud of you, Noah Riley. You have become the man I always hoped you’d be.”
Moisture builds in my gaze, and my jaw flexes. “I had one hell of a woman show me the way.”
“You did, didn’t you.”
My chuckle is laced with emotion, and she smiles. “I love you, honey. With all my heart. Always.”
“I love you, too.”
With a deep breath, she pats my cheek, and I help her into her bed. “Today was a good day,” she whispers, a heaviness growing in her words, and I know it’s time to go.
I step out into the cool January air, and I ignore the moment of reprieve I feel.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I scroll to the long list of missed calls and hit send.
Trey answers on the first ring. “Well, fuck me, he’s alive.”
I point my smile to the sky. “How about that beer?”
“I’m already headed out the door, my man. See you in twenty?”
“I’ll be there.”
Climbing behind the wheel of my truck, I roll down the windows and turn the music up.
Feeling lighter than I have in a long time, I head toward campus.
Chapter 47
Arianna
* * *
Out front, Chase jumps from his seat and runs around the hood, reaching my door right as I push it open.
He pins me with a victorious grin and reaches for my hand.
“You know.” I scoot closer to the edge, slipping my palm in his. “I’ve jumped to my feet from this very seat several times.”
“Oh, I know.” His free hand comes up, taking my other one, and I hop to the ground, his fingers tethering to mine as he draws me closer. “But tonight’s a little different.”
“Yeah, and how’s that?” I play along.
“You were here as my friend all those times.”
Something sparks in my gut. “And tonight?”
“Tonight, you’re here as my date,” he whispers, and my calves tighten. “And I’d like to kiss my girl goodnight before we go in and I don’t get the chance.”
I laugh lightly, about to respond, but something over his shoulder catches my attention, and I gently nudge him to the side.
Mason, Brady, and Cameron have stepped from the house, and unease washes over me.
My eyes roam them once more, and I take note of who’s missing. The same person I’ve searched for but haven’t set eyes on in the four days since before the gala, though I was told he came back that night, but left before morning.
Noah.
Tension wraps around my shoulders.
Cameron wrings her hands before her, opens her mouth, but her palm lifts to cover it and she shakes her head. She looks to the ground, shifting to the side, and my eyes flick toward the front door.
Soft eyes meet mine. “Hi, Ari.”
“Paige.” I frown, my stomach shrinking. “Where’s Noah?”
Her eyes widen, and she stutters, “Um, he-he’s…” She trails off, erasing the distance between us and grabs my hands. Her eyes begin to water and my teeth clench.
“Paige…” My blood runs cold. “Is he okay?”
Her lips tremble, and she shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.
Something in me cracks, and my cheeks run warm as a sob breaks from me. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe, and my vision blurs. I
don’t realize I’m shaking until my brother’s palms latch around my forearms from behind, steadying me. I turn into him, and he whispers in my ear, but his words are muffled.
Soft hands find mine and I look up.
A broken smile curls Paige’s lips as she nods. “Can I tell you what happened?”
I quietly climb from the Tahoe, turning to look at the long line of trucks pulling into the parking lot, each one loaded down with three or four Avix Sharks football players. One by one, they file out, somberly joining us at the curbside.
Tears brim in my eyes, and I nod when his coach steps up, gripping my arms briefly, as if they understand the pain I’m in when I, myself, am still trying to figure it out.
Once all the cars have parked, Mason, Cameron, Brady, Chase, and I lead the group around the back, where the service is about to begin.
I can’t say for certain this is what Noah would have wanted, but I think it is. It feels right.
As we step around the corner, Trey and Paige come into view, both sitting in the only row of seats brought out into the yard, the officiant standing before them with a Bible in his hand. He looks up, spotting our large group and a small smile brims his lips.
It isn’t until we’re in the clearing, the pond and flower garden now in full view, that his body comes into view.
With shaky steps, I move down the small path, and with tears pooling in my eyes, I lower into the last free seat.
With trembling limbs, I look to his closed eyes, placing my palm over his folded ones, my words a croaky mess. “I’m so sorry, Noah.”
Noah’s body tenses, his eyes snapping left to find me at his side.
Shock shakes his features, but only for a moment, and then a shuddered breath blows past his lips.
His hollow gaze grows misted in an instant, and he pulls his left hand free, closing over our still clasped ones. His touch tightens, and with that, every muscle in his body seems to ease.
Mine does the opposite, the weight on my shoulders doubling as I stare at him.
He’s so sad, hurt and maybe a little hard fought anger making him up. I haven’t seen him in days, and in that time, I know he hasn’t slept much.
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