It was well after midnight when my brother finally decided he could no longer hold back and called Noah. I met him at the bottom of the stairs, and we piled into his Tahoe, Chase and the others already tucked inside.
We didn’t speak much on the ride back to the beach house, and by the time we arrived, everyone was ready for bed.
Once again, I didn’t get much sleep, the events of the day looping through my mind, thoughts of what might have happened whirling around. It’s hard, not knowing if what I see is a memory or a twisted fantasy that stems from the desperate need to know I find myself burning in.
By the time the sun rises, I’m already getting out of the shower and heading straight for the first place I felt the need to be.
As I suspected, she’s up and spots me through the bay window.
With a small smile, Payton pushes open the door, her hair a messy pile on her head, her eyes tired.
“Ari, hi.” She ushers me in, retaking her place at the counter, where she’s mixing a bottle for her son. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I… Payton.”
Her eyes lift to mine.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She frowns.
When I pin her with a knowing look, she sighs, walks over and wraps her arms around me.
“Trust me, Ari. I understand.”
I nod, squeezing her back and blowing out a long breath when she lets go.
“Any chance you could use a little more sleep?”
Nerves swim through me as her steps pause, and she glances over her shoulder. But then she walks to me. “I could use an uninterrupted shower…”
Chewing at my lip, I nod, take the bottle from Payton’s hands and curve around the corner.
I step up to the bassinet, quickly turning to Payton before she’s gone.
“Payton.”
She halts.
“Thank you.”
With a small smile, she nods, and then she disappears down the hall.
I run my hands along the edge of the plush blue blanket, and as my face comes into view, Deaton’s eyes find me.
“Hey, buddy,” I whisper, chuckling when he kicks his feet.
With a deep breath, I gently lift him into my arms, his little cooing sounds warming parts of me I was afraid to feel.
As I lower into the rocking chair with him in my arms, moisture builds in my eyes, but it’s not from sadness. I’m not really sure what it’s from. All I know is that the baby in my arms is precious. He latches onto the bottle with ease, his hands coming up to cover mine as if he’s determined to hold the thing himself, and a low laugh leaves me.
“Already trying to be a man.”
I look over to find my brother stepping through the kitchen.
“Hey.” I squint, looking him over. “I didn’t know you were up.”
He nods, comes to sit beside me, and as soon as Deaton spots him, he smiles around the nipple of the bottle. Mason chuckles. “What’s up, my man?”
“Or maybe you didn’t know I was up. Mase?”
He shrugs, falling into the chair on the couch beside me. “I walk over in the mornings sometimes. Parker’s gone for work a lot and Kenra stays busy too.”
My eyes narrow, but he says nothing else.
Mason looks from the baby to me, his features softening. “I was wondering when you’d make it down here.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, running my fingers over Deaton’s soft hair. “Me too.”
Holding an infant brings a sense of peace like nothing else can. It’s as if time slows, and your lungs open beyond their ability. It’s like holding your breath and breathing deep at the same time, an unmatchable warmth that fills you from head to toe.
“You okay?” my brother whispers.
“I am,” I answer honestly, my hand tingling as I run the pad of my thumb over the baby’s soft cheeks. “I wish I would have spent more time with him over the last few weeks.”
I look to my brother, and he nods, but a small frown builds as he stares at the little boy in my arms. “If you did, it uh, might make it a little harder for you to leave tomorrow.”
“Is it?” I wonder.
He looks to me.
“Is it going to be harder for you to leave tomorrow?”
Mason’s chest rises, but again, speaks not a word, and worry washes over me.
“Mase…” I shake my head. “She’s not ready.”
“I know.” His eyes fall to Deaton.
Several minutes go by, and it’s not until I’m lowering the baby into his bassinet, sound asleep, that Mason speaks again.
“What are you going to do, Ari?” he asks. “About Noah and Chase?”
Shaking my head, I turn to him. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your heart telling you?”
Shame falls over me as I whisper, “That I want what I always have and that maybe it’s finally mine.”
“That he is finally yours, you mean?” I look down and he continues, “I know you, and I know learning a little bit about you and Noah has made things harder for you.”
“I just… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Mason sighs, a gentleness falling over him. “I know you don’t, but no matter what happens, someone gets hurt, sister. It’s inevitable.”
“Yeah, I know.”
My parents have always said you should follow your heart, that it will never lead you astray, but mine’s malfunctioning.
Because if your heart is the leader, your body and mind should fall in line.
Mine have not, and I have no idea what to do about it.
Cam and I spend the day unpacking while my mom works her magic in our little kitchen, restocking and organizing all the crap we simply tossed into the cupboards in a hurry. She cooks steaks and mashed potatoes, and the boys come over for our first dinner back.
A few hours later, once everyone has gone home, I lock myself in my room.
I open my window to better hear the pitter patter of the rain and pull the calendar from under my bed before settling on top of it.
You can do this.
I give myself a little pep talk, and then I flip it back to September.
Outside of a few test reminders and game day reminders, as if I needed them, there isn’t much, so I flip to the next page.
My mouth falls open, and I draw it closer to my face.
After the first week, there’s at least two days colored in, little hints to plans I had made written in. Plans I have no idea if I followed through with or not, but the little doodles on the notes section in the bottom makes me think I did. But then I turn the page again, and I nearly lose my breath. October was nothing compared to November.
Cooking with Noah.
Movie night with Noah.
Road trip with Noah.
Noah’s game.
About halfway through the month, I stopped writing in his name, but the plans look very much the same. The entire month is filled, the doodles on the bottom of unrecognizable foods and familiar movie lines, a mountain and splashes of water.
Of hearts with smiley faces.
I turn to December, and there’s a pull in my chest.
I shake my head, reading over everything, and unease coils around my shoulders when a few days in, it begins to look very different.
The words ‘I’m sorry’ are scribbled a few times, broken hearts and small flames littering the edges.
“Something happened,” I whisper to myself.
But what?
Did he leave me?
Hurt me?
Were we even dating or was it… what were we?
And then I get to the last entry on the page.
December twenty-third, so after the accident, the words pick up the CB, with an address attached.
I Google it, finding it’s a printing company not far from campus. I try calling, but they’re closed.
The rest of the night I’m stuck wondering what I could have possibly ordered, and by the time morning rolls around, I’m more than ready to find out, but classes begin today, so whatever it is will have to wait.
Noah
I woke up this morning with a little less weight on my shoulders.
Nothing is good, not by a longshot, but she came to me without direction. She looked at me like she used to.
She felt me like I feel her.
All over, in every part of her, she just didn’t understand it. I should have kept my mouth shut and kissed her but kissing her would be the cruelest form of torture, and I’m not so sure how much more I can take. My mom’s not here to talk me through this, and I won’t bother my friends with problems they can’t find a way to fix.
It’s been the longest six weeks of my life, but I’m hoping it gets better.
We’re back on campus now. Back to the hustle of college life and I’m hoping everywhere she goes, everywhere she looks, she sees me as I do her.
I see her in the fountain we sat on the night I found her at the bar.
I see her at the coffee shop and on the picnic tables.
In the library and on the track.
The gym, field, and every other inch of this place, because I’ve held her hand across every part of it. I’ve kissed her in every corner.
I’ve loved her in secret, but I’m not so sure how much of a secret it was.
I think she knew.
I hope I showed her what she meant to me.
What she’ll forever mean to me.
If she isn’t mine in the end, I’ll still be hers.
It’s torture.
But it’s true.
There’s no coming back from a girl like her.
The hope is I won’t have to, but as I step out of the coffee shop, I’m reminded of why I left hope behind long ago, after my mom’s second stroke.
Ari stands off to the side of the building, a peppermint latte in hand, no doubt, extra hot like the one burning my left palm this very instant, Chase a foot before her.
My baby smiles up at a man that isn’t me, and when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, mine fall.
I slip into the shadow of the tree as they start walking this way, my eyes closing as her laughter threatens to tear my heart from my chest.
Only once they’re gone do I step out, throwing the coffee I bought her in the can untouched.
I have class in an hour, but I don’t care.
My feet carry me to my truck and my truck leads me to the highway.
The same highway I drove her down more times than I can count.
It’s like I said, she’s everywhere.
My Juliet.
A bitter laugh leaves me and I shake my head.
Maybe the answer to our ending was given from the start.
If I’m Romeo and she’s Juliet, maybe this is the fate I put on us that very first day. Love forbidden, but in our story, we’re forbidden by fate.
Maybe I was the placeholder, as Mason wondered.
Maybe I’m not the man of her dreams, but the understudy who did the noble work. Who befriended a broken girl. Who showed her what it meant to matter to a man, how it felt to be loved. She knows now that she’s worth the world and deserves even more.
Ari is strong enough to demand what she’s always wanted now, and the person she still believes she wants it from is ready to give it to her.
