Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Ella has to come first.
If I lay down next to him, wake up to his arms around me, I might go back on everything. I can’t. Instead, I set food and water up for the dogs, check on Noah, then take a pillow from his bed and move onto the couch. Physically, I’m exhausted. Mentally, my brain won’t shut the fuck up. And Ella is right there with it, kicking and pushing on my bladder, making me get up to pee every few minutes.
Finally, I fall asleep, only to be woken up by someone gently poking my cheek. I open my eyes, to see Noah standing next to the couch.
“Am I dead?” he asks.
“What?” I push up. “No, you’re not dead. What’s wrong?”
He blinks, and I notice his eyes are super dilated. He’s still heavy under the influence of pain medication. “Are you sure I’m not dead? I woke up with the dogs. And now you’re here.”
“Why would that make you think you’re dead?”
“Because this is what I want. You, with me.”
Damn you, drugged up Noah. Nine little words, like nine little bullets. I burst into tears, thank you hormones.
“Well, if I was dead I wouldn’t make you cry,” Noah says.
“It’s okay,” I hiccup. “Are you hurting?”
“I’ve been hurting since you said goodbye.”
I can’t handle that right now. Or ever. “Come here,” I say and heft myself off the couch. “Let me see.”
“Okay,” he says softly and follows me into the kitchen. I have him sit on a barstool so I can inspect his wounds. I don’t take care of people, but stitches are stitches. He has five stitches on his left arm. The skin around it is in bad shape from road rash, and I can see bruises all over the left side of his body.
Colin summed it up perfectly: Noah is beat to hell but will be okay. I believed my brother, but seeing it first hand offers relief. Noah and I might not be together, but I didn’t stop caring about him. I don’t think I’ll ever stop caring.
“They look good,” I say, putting the gauze back over the cut on his arm. “Make sure you keep it clean and dry.”
“I will.”
“Do you have anything to take for pain later?” I can’t look at him when I talk.
“I do. Lauren…thanks for coming over.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes I do.”
I turn and he catches my wrist. His skin against mine causes a ripple in my soul.
“Lauren.”
“Noah, I can’t.” Tears are running down my face.
He gives my arm a gentle tug. “I miss you.”
I pull my arm back, breaking his grasp. “You need to rest, Noah.”
He nods, and through my blurry vision, I see the heartbreak on his face. He stays there for another few seconds, looking at me, before going back into his room.
I cry myself to sleep.
My alarm goes off too soon. I wake up tired. This is going to be a great fucking day. I stiffly sit up; sleeping on the couch with a pregnant belly is not comfortable. Sasha is on the floor near me and Vader is nowhere to be seen. He must be in with Noah.
After using the bathroom, I duck into Noah’s room. Vader is snuggled up with him, head pressed against Noah’s chest. It’s sad and it’s sweet and if I keep staring, I’m going to start crying again. So I turn and get ready for work. I make a sandwich for Noah and put it in the fridge. I know he’ll be hungry when he wakes up and won’t want to cook anything. He came home with extra dressings for his wounds. I go through the discharge instructions, rewriting it in simpler, easy-to-follow steps, and lay out what he’ll need to keep his stitches from getting infected on the counter.
I’m dressed and ready to get the dogs and leave. Yet here I am, sitting in the kitchen. When I walk out that door, I won’t ever come back here. At least not in a way that’s enjoyable. I hug my stomach, thinking of the little girl who’s inside.
It’s for you, baby.
I don’t try to hold back the tears. They will come eventually anyway. I am sad. I am broken hearted. And that’s okay. What’s not okay is giving in and letting myself get hurt again.
I get up, and go into Noah’s room, stopping in the doorway. My heart aches as I gaze upon him. I miss him so much.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I whisper.
I’m sobbing when I get into my Jeep. I want to rush back in, hold Noah, and never let go.
Chapter 24
NOAH
MY BODY HURTS. I’m stiff and sore and every step is agony. But it’s nothing compared to the heartache.
Lauren was here.
She came over last night, took care of me. Knowing she still cares just makes it that much worse. It would be easier if she hated me, if she yelled at me and cursed my name.