The Seat Filler: A Novel
Page 26
Noah squeezed my hands and said, “My turn. I want that, too. Have wanted it for a while.”
My heart soared at his words, sending happy, flappy flutters through my whole body. “You do? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“Because you said no and I wanted to respect your feelings and your boundaries. I secretly hoped they would change, but if they hadn’t and you’d just ended things and walked away, I still always would have been glad that I’d met you. Even if I was nursing a broken heart.”
“A broken heart?” I repeated, those happiness bubbles still fizzing away inside me.
He nodded his head, like I was silly. “I’m in love with you, Juliet. How could I not be? You’re everything I never knew I always wanted. Sweet, brave, loyal, willing to fight for what you want, brilliant, hilarious, and, like you said, a million other things that make you the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. I’ve been into you since the first night we met and I fell in love with you a long time ago.”
“You love me?” Why was I repeating everything he was saying?
“Even more than I love Magnus.”
Wow. That was more than I’d expected.
But how could he love me? How could I ever be enough for him? My mom hadn’t been enough for my dad, and while I’d never thought I’d actually be in a relationship, now that I was, how could I expect someone like him to be faithful? Because while I didn’t have much experience, I was pretty sure cheating would be something I couldn’t get over.
“What is that look for?” he asked.
“What if you get bored of me?”
He laughed. “How could I ever get bored of you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re constantly around the most beautiful, fascinating, and talented people in the world?”
Noah put his hands on the sides of my face. “There’s something Paul Newman said once when asked if he was tempted to cheat on his wife. To paraphrase, he said, ‘Why would I go out for hamburger when I have steak at home?’”
My heart lifted at his words. “But hamburgers are really good, too.”
“Not as good as steak,” he said definitively, as if there were no further discussion to be had. “I’d never cheat on you.”
Then he kissed me, and I didn’t even have that fear echo. His kiss was so intimate and perfect; it was just love and excited giddiness and promises of so much more to come.
“Wait,” I said, pulling back. “I want you to meet my mom.”
He smiled wryly. “I already met your mom.”
“No, as my boyfriend. If it’s okay to call you that.”
“Yes.” He grinned. “And I’d love to meet her again.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“It’s a date.”
We were interrupted by a nurse, who came in and said, “You can’t be in here.” Her expression shifted and she said, “Oh. You’re Noah Douglas.”
“I’m sorry for being in here. We just needed a minute,” he said in that confident way that smoothed over everything.
“No, it’s okay. Take as long as you need.”
“My girlfriend and I were on our way out.”
Girlfriend. Why was that the best word in the whole world?
Noah loved me. Noah Douglas loved me. I’d already figured out that I was in love with him, but it seriously hadn’t entered into my head that he would love me back. As we walked out of the hospital room hand in hand, I knew that I should tell him. But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say the thing that would make him walk away from me and never talk to me again.
But for some reason, I couldn’t tell him I loved him, either. I didn’t know why or what was holding me back.
And I didn’t know how to resolve it.
The next morning I got my phone out to call my mom and saw that I had a text from Gladys.
But she didn’t respond. I decided I’d go by tomorrow regardless. She wasn’t the kind of person to ask for help, but she was going to get it. I knew how much Sunshine loved his teddy bear.
Then I called my mother to inform her that Noah, my boyfriend, and I would be coming by for dinner.
She let out a tormented sigh and said, “I thought you were just friends. Do you think an actor is the best person to be in a relationship with?”
Annoyance exploded behind my eyes. I couldn’t keep quiet. “You’re trying to be an actor. You cannot keep doing stuff like this. Mom, I love you, but do you know how many weird hang-ups I have because you hated Dad?”
“What do you mean?”
“You always think no guy is good enough for me.”
“No guy is good enough for you,” she agreed.
“Mom!”
“You’re my baby. I want to protect you. I never want you to get hurt the way that I did. And that Noah seems like he could be a real heartbreaker.”
I decided to ignore her last sentence. “I know you want to protect me. But you can’t protect me from life. You need to let me fly and make my own mistakes.”
“I know.” She sighed again. “I just love you so much that I want to put you in bubble wrap and keep you in your old bedroom.”
“That’s not at all creepy.”
“Speaking of your room, I’ve started packing your stuff up. It’s been your shrine for long enough. I’m thinking about turning it into an exercise or sewing room. You’ll have to take the boxes back to your apartment.”
“I will,” I promised. “But I want you to meet Noah and really talk to him and I want you to be nice to him and I want you to love him, because I already do.” Whoa, I felt that deep in my gut. I’d never said the words out loud before, and it seemed monumental.
“Do you see a future with this boy?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” I figured saying, Yes, absolutely, would probably freak her out more than was necessary in this moment.
“Okay, then. You bring him over, and I’ll do my best to love him, too.”
“That’s all I can ask for! But don’t tell him about the love part. I technically haven’t told him yet,” I said. The last thing I needed was for him to find out that I loved him because my mom didn’t know how to keep a secret.
I told her I’d see her at seven and followed up with a text to Noah, making sure he could show up at that time.
I actually pressed my phone to my chest, squealed, and spun around. I never thought this would happen to me, and not even in my wildest daydreams did I ever imagine that it would be with Noah Douglas.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. I didn’t have any dog-grooming appointments, but I always made sure to spend at least an hour of my day trying new ways of marketing. Today it was to contact current and previous clients to let them know that I was now doing dog sitting in addition to grooming and that I would offer them fifty percent off their next dog grooming if they referred me to a friend.
Then I got ready and drove over to my mom’s. I let myself in the front door and found her in the kitchen, where she was stirring up her famous bolognese sauce.
“It smells good!” I told her, kissing her cheek hello.
“Here, taste. You need to eat more,” she said, offering me some of the sauce on a wooden spoon. I blew on it and then tasted it.
“Amazing as always,” I said. “What can I do to help?”
She asked me to go set up the dining room table. I got out a tablecloth and the nice china that we almost never used except for holidays. It was strangely thrilling to be setting it for three people instead of two.
Once that was done, my mother had me making the salad while she told me about her favorite class and how she thought her professor might be flirting with her. Even though he was too young for her.
I hoped he was flirting. My mom was still a hottie and deserved the ego boost. Good for her. I took the salad and the bread out to the table.
At exactly two minutes before seven o’clock, the doorbell rang. I wondered who it could be because I’d fully expected Noah to be late and had already prep
ared my mother for this fact.
But to my surprise, it was him. All cleaned up and wearing a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants. He’d even put product in his hair and pushed it back from his face. He had a mixed floral bouquet with him.
“You look like you just walked out of an Old Navy commercial,” I told him as he kissed me hello.
“Hush. I’m dressed like this solely to impress your mother. And before you get any big ideas, these flowers are not for you.”
He was nervous. I could see it, and this tickled me. Because he was doing this for me. He wanted to make me happy and knew that this would. He was trying so hard, and it was completely adorable. “I’m glad you’re taking this seriously. Because so far she disapproves.”
“Does that ruin my chances with you?” he asked, slipping an arm around my waist.
“Actually, it makes it much more likely that I’ll keep hanging around you. It would only make you more appealing.”
“Good. Because usually mothers hate me. They think I’m the worst.”
“Noah!” I laughed. “That’s probably the opposite of true. I bet you charm them all.”
He grinned. “Okay, yes, mothers love me.”
My mom came in the room carrying her sauce and the noodles, setting them down on the table. “Mom, you remember Noah?”
“I do! How are you?”
“I’m good, Ms. Barber. How are you?”
Oh, bonus points for him for remembering that she went by her maiden name. I could see that she felt the same way, given how her smile warmed. “I’m doing very well, and please, call me Caroline.”
“These are for you,” he said, offering her the bouquet. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”
“Thank you! They’re beautiful. I’m going to go put them in water.”
“Maybe I misjudged you,” I whispered to him. “You’re kind of killing it.”
“Never underestimate the movie star,” he whispered back as my mom returned with her flowers in a vase. She placed them in the middle of the dining room table.
“Please, sit down,” she said.
We all took our seats, and my mom offered the pasta to him first. He took it and had just started serving himself when she said, “Oh! Before I forget again, I found something today. Now I know where I recognized you from.” She got up, leaving the room.
Weird. I wondered if she’d looked him up online or something.
He got a text and checked his phone. “Whoops. I forgot to call Kyle back last night, and now I have a thoroughly vetted list of California’s best oncologists.”
“Yeah, we were a little busy,” I said.
“We were,” he said with a sexy smile, and I debated whether or not I could kiss him senseless before my mom came back.
But she returned right then to majorly mom-block me. When I saw her, my smile slipped off my face. My ears started ringing, and my heart stopped beating. Like, literally stopped and then slowly started up again, so slow that I thought I might pass out.
She was carrying my scrapbook. My Felix Morrison scrapbook that I’d kept throughout middle school and half of high school.
This. Was. Not. Happening.
“I’ve been packing up Juliet’s room, and I found this. She spent so much time on this scrapbook. I threatened to take it away from her more than once if she didn’t do better in school and spend less time looking up things to print out.” She was so joyful. She thought she was helping. Doing a good thing.
Not ruining my entire world.
“What’s this?” Noah asked when she placed it in front of me, reaching out to touch it. I wanted to scream, to tell him not to look, to grab it and run away so that he’d never see it. But it was like being trapped in a real-life nightmare. I was paralyzed in place, unable to move, unable to blink, unable to do anything besides just sit there and watch.
Even if I had been able to act, it was already too late. He opened it and I saw the microseconds when his expression changed—from curiosity to confusion to understanding.
His whole visage darkened. His betrayal and pain were etched into his face. “What is this, Juliet?” he demanded.
CHAPTER THIRTY
My mother might not have known exactly what was happening, but she had the good sense to excuse herself, leaving us alone.
“Noah, let me explain—”
“What is this?” he repeated, his teeth clenched together. I’d seen him angry before, but never at me. I didn’t know how to take it.
Even if it was well deserved. “It’s a scrapbook I kept when I was younger.”
“Of me. Of Felix Morrison.” He said the name with disgust. “You told me you didn’t know who I was. The first night we met, you said you’d never heard of me.”
I reached for his hand and tried not to flinch when he jerked it away, out of reach. I had to explain this. To make him see. “I know I did, but I thought you were being arrogant that night. Now I know it was just to protect yourself from what you thought was a crazy stalker fan, but I was so annoyed that I just wanted to knock you down a few pegs. Which I shouldn’t have done and maybe I should have confessed earlier, but what would have happened? You would have walked away from me and never looked back. And I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You used me. You lied to me and then had me help you learn how to kiss.” I wished he would yell instead of utilizing this deadly calm voice he was using and his blank face. “Did you fake your phobia, too? Were you trying to trick me into being with you? Was this some scheme? Was the whole thing a lie?”
“Nothing was a lie. Besides me saying I didn’t know you. Everything else was the truth. A hundred percent. I promise.”
“Your promises don’t mean a whole lot right now.” He stood up, clearly meaning to leave.
I couldn’t let that happen. I grabbed for his wrist, and he stopped only to pull himself from my grasp.
“Please don’t go. We can work this out,” I begged.
“How?” he asked. “I thought I’d found this unicorn—this unexpected woman who was perfect for me and wasn’t blinded by my celebrity. Who didn’t care about the roles I played. Who cared about me. As a man.”
“I can’t say that I don’t care. But I only loved those characters because you were so good at performing them.” I saw immediately that that was the wrong thing to say and tried to fix it. “You are not some character to me. This was never about Felix or Malec for me. I couldn’t care less about what you do for a living. You’re just Noah to me.”
Finally, there was anger. “That isn’t true! There’s a four-inch notebook on your table saying that isn’t true!”
“I’m not the same person I was when I was fifteen. I know there’s a difference between fantasy and reality.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said, his voice back to being cold. “And right now, apparently neither do I.”
He was nearly to the front door when I called out, “You can’t go. I wanted to tell you everything, but I was too scared to. I didn’t want to lose you. I’m begging you. Please don’t do this.” My voice was edged with unshed tears. I was struggling so hard to keep myself in check, to not break down.
His shoulders curved in, and relief shot through me. I thought that was it. That I’d gotten through to him and we would talk about this and I would find a way to make it up to him.
Instead he seemed to shake off my words and without turning around, he said in a low voice, “Don’t call me. Don’t come to my house. I’m done.”
Then he walked out the front door, closing it behind him.
I collapsed onto the floor in a sobbing heap, crying so hard I thought my chest might split open. My throat felt raw, shredded, and my whole body shook with my tears. My heart ached so badly I didn’t know that it would ever beat the same way again. Him shutting me out of his life was what I was most afraid of and it was what had happened.
I’d ruined everything.
Life had to go on, but it was like all the color had been draine
d from the world. It didn’t help matters that I was living alone. It let me really steep myself in my depression.
Shelby came over the night after he walked out of my mother’s house and just held me while I cried and told her all the ways I had messed up and how I didn’t know how to live without him.
“I’ll tell you how. You get up in the morning and take a shower and keep living your life. You build your business. You find a new roommate. You move on, and hopefully every day it will hurt a little less.”
She never said I told you so, but maybe she should have. Because she’d been right about everything. Again. And I’d lost the person I loved most in the whole world.
My mother kept calling to apologize and see if I was okay. But she wasn’t to blame and it was exhausting pretending I felt better than I actually did. I found myself dodging some of her calls.
One night Shelby stopped by to check on me. It might have been two weeks later. Maybe three. Time had sort of lost all meaning. She let herself in because she still had her key.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
And I knew why she looked so concerned. Despite her counsel to take care of myself, I had fallen into a deep funk that included not leaving my house and forgetting about personal hygiene. I was also wearing the hoodie that Noah had lent to me and I’d never returned. It had never been washed. “Today I wanted to find out how many Snickers bars I had to eat to stop feeling sad. So far it’s not ten.”
“Sweetie, what can I do?”
Tell me about Noah, I wanted to say but didn’t. Whenever we talked or she visited, I was starved for information about him. But she wouldn’t talk about him. Even when I specifically asked, she would change the subject. I was torn between understanding why she was doing it, wanting to keep out of it because she had her own relationship with Noah, and feeling hurt that she wouldn’t give me every morsel and detail she knew because I was her best friend.