by Lily Zante
“To stay or to go?” The barista asked Noah, as he got ready to scoot off and prepare the orders. Noah turned to her instead. “To stay or to go?” The way he said it, with the suggestion dangling delicately in the air, made her stare a second longer at his face, at his eyes, before her gaze dropped down to his lips. It was a touch-and-go moment, where she could either crush his hopes with one word, or strengthen the bonds newly forming.
“Stay.”
“It looks like I’m staying.” He told the barista.
“I’ll get a table.” She took her muffin and coffee and found a table three deep from the front. It wasn’t isolated off in a corner, but still afforded privacy.
Even though Matt never came here, she still didn’t want to risk him seeing her on the freaky off chance he might walk in. She angled her chair anyway, so that she had full view of the comings and goings at the door.
Soon, she would figure things out so that she never had to worry about what Matt thought but getting to that point wasn’t going to be easy.
She watched the guy waiting patiently at the counter, and as she did so, he turned to her and smiled. She felt a flutter somewhere between her stomach and her heart.
The more she saw him, the more she wanted to see him. The more she spoke to him, the more she wanted to get to know him.
It no longer felt strange—because now they’d seen each other more than a couple of times. Enough for it to not feel totally odd. Ever since she’d had that accident with the coffee spilling over her, things had sped up. She seemed to bump into him on most days, and probably because she went to the coffee shop on most days.
After the events of yesterday, spending time with a man whose name she didn’t yet know, but who made her feel good, wasn’t wrong at all.
As she waited, thoughts about Matt resurfaced. Being with him left her feeling more isolated and sadder than being single ever had. At least when she was single she’d never been unhappy. A little lonely sometimes, but that was all. She’d been content with her life, her body, herself.
A relationship was supposed to be the cherry on the top. It was supposed to be the thing that uplifted a person, that drew out the best in them, not destroyed whatever there was.
Her heart dipped at the thought of her and Matt and she felt a dullness drip over her. She didn’t have a good relationship. Because a good relationship was—
“You should have started.” He interrupted her thoughts, brightening her day just by his presence. Pointing his chin at her untouched food, he asked her, “You’re not hungry today?”
She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts, she hadn’t touched her breakfast. She shrugged. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, as he sat down opposite her.
“Noah,” he said, then put out his hand. “I feel we need some kind of introduction.”
“Noah,” she repeated, shaking his hand. It was soft and big and held hers firmly.
Withdrawing their hands they both picked up their cups at the same time and took a sip, briefly appraising one another over the cups.
After a while, he started to unwrap his muffin. “Want to try some?” He held his plate out to her.
“No, thanks. Do you want to try some of this?” She offered him her blueberry muffin.
He shook his head.
Having breakfast with a man she barely knew, but who offered her more comfort than her boyfriend had, was the kind of thing Heather would do without batting an eye. For someone like Melissa, whose middle name might as well have been “cautious,” it was unheard of.
“How come you’re here so early today?”
“I didn’t feel like facing the gym this morning.” She wondered why she’d offered this piece of news to him, given that she’d had no intention of going to the gym at all. But it made more sense to say this than to admit the truth. That she needed to think carefully about how she was going to dump her boyfriend.
“The gym? That’s where you go in the mornings?” He sounded impressed. “You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that.” His eyes twinkled and she admired once again his remarkably long eyelashes.
“I usually go…” She hesitated, not wanting to mention anything about Matt. “And then I’m done by eight.”
“Impressive.”
“It’s early for you too,” she suggested, suddenly needing to know why he’d come at this time and the reason behind his smart appearance. “Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” He grinned.
“If I stalked you, you wouldn’t be aware of it.” She raised an eyebrow back, while at the same time wondering if he had a girlfriend.
But until she thought things through and told Matt, she still had a boyfriend. Technically. And one that she’d neglected to mention. Deliberately.
“Maybe you being here, stalking me anyway, and telling me this is to throw me off the trail. Someone like you would make for an exceptionally smart stalker.”
“An exceptionally smart stalker.” She considered the term, and then him, sitting so close to her, looking smart in his white shirt and business suit. She wanted to comment on the fact but quickly decided that giving him compliments might make him think she was coming onto him. And she wasn’t yet sure what her motivations were. Only that right now, in this moment, he took away the shame of what Matt had subjected her to yesterday.
Talking to Noah made her think that things could be another way. He made her see how it felt to be with someone who lifted her higher. Not someone who broke her soul.
She took her time peeling her muffin completely from its casing, doing it slowly so that she’d have something to do. Because each time she looked at him now, she felt the buzz of intensity when he stared right back.
Did he feel the same?
Her nerves got the better of her so much so that she no longer felt like eating, afraid that she’d let the crumbs fall all over her mouth, or that she’d choke on a piece, or do something embarrassing.
“How come you’re extra early today?” He’d eluded her question before and now that he knew her reasons, it was time to find out his.
“I thought I’d get in early to clear some of my workload. We’re hiring and I’m running with that so all of my usual workload piles up. It’s always busy at work.”
“You sound just like my boss,” she remarked.
“Yeah?” he gave her another one of his smiles—the kind that had her heart ticking like a kitchen timer.
“I couldn’t sleep, actually.”
“Me neither,” she confessed.
“Mine was indigestion.”
She cocked her head, and thought about what he’d said. Now would be a good time to ask him if his girlfriend’s cooking was that bad. But aside from being sexist, it wasn’t the right thing to ask. Surely there had to be better ways of finding out if he was single.
So she chose to remain silent instead.
“You didn’t sleep either?” he asked.
She shook her head but gave no explanation. He covered it up, her obvious avoidance to answer. “It’s a wonder we met at all, seeing that it wasn’t our normal time.”
“Our normal time?” Her lips curved into a smile. “I didn’t realize we had a normal time.”
“Sure we do, around eight o’clock, usually on Mondays and Wednesdays.” His response startled her. She did normally pick Mondays to go to the gym because it was the start of the week, and she had more enthusiasm then to get up extra early and work out. And Wednesdays simply because it was dead center in the week. She couldn’t bear the thought of turning Thursdays and Fridays into gym days. Though earlier in her and Matt’s relationship, when she’d been more inclined to listen to him, she’d given in to going on Tuesdays too.
“You’re observant,” she deduced.
“I like what I see.” His words didn’t follow on from her comment, and she considered it his most daring confession so far. She dared to hope. A hot chill sprinkled along her arms. She slanted him a look. “You like what you see?” She repeated his words back t
o him. “What do you see?”
He leaned in a little and pushed his cup out of the way. “You want me to tell you?”
She nodded her head enthusiastically, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through her, unable to decide if what she felt was a magnified feeling of boldness, or sheer adventure.
“I see someone who is…I think, a little shy. Someone…” He looked away as if searching for the right words. “Someone who is probably more outspoken than she lets on, someone soft, yet hard inside, true to herself, loyal, hardworking, a good employee. I bet your boss values you.” He looked at her, as if to check he was on the right path. She said nothing but continued to listen, tilting her head a little, agreeing with what he’d said, and wondering how easy she was to read.
“Am I right so far?” he asked.
“I don’t know, are you?” she asked, giving nothing away.
He continued with a smile, as if she’d just told him he was correct. “Someone who works out, but it’s not a big deal if she misses a couple of sessions here and there, because she doesn’t take it too seriously. Someone who’s more like a wallflower, but she could be off the wall, if she let herself. Someone—” And now he paused with his lips pursed together, as if unsure whether to continue.
“Go on,” she encouraged him, fascinated by his insight and scared to reveal any more of herself.
“Someone who seems sad to me lately. Sadder than I’ve seen her in a long time.”
Tears welled up when he touched her truth, and he stopped the moment he saw her watery eyes.
“Melissa, I’m sorry.” He retracted, rubbing his face.
She shook her head, looked up, willing with all her might that she could dry the tears before he noticed. She turned her face away, determined to compose herself quickly. “I’m not upset.” She gave him a smile her heart didn’t feel.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of that to hurt you.” He held his hands out, as if he wanted to comfort her, but drew them back as quickly, unsure of the boundaries. Then he looked away, and she quickly dabbed at the edges of her eyes.
She felt foolish for dissolving into desperation like this before him and hated that she’d come undone this suddenly by his words. She’d been reduced to a mushy heap by the wrecking ball that was Matt.
Noah looked at her with worried eyes. A few times he shifted in his chair as if he was going to come over, but he stayed where he was and for that she was grateful. She didn’t need for him to tell her how awful he felt. She could read the evidence of it on his face. Even though he was almost a stranger, she already felt a connection to him. She felt him.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t.” She’d regained a modicum of self-decorum. “You didn’t do anything. It was me. I was a bit of a mess this morning.”
“I should have listened.” He hated himself, she could tell from the way he said it. “You probably wish you’d gone to the gym now, instead of running into me.”
“I was running from the gym,” she confessed. “And I’m glad I ran into you.” She meant it.
He gave her a searching glance, and she got the impression that he had questions, but she also sensed that he wasn’t going to push for any answers either.
“Stuff happens, sometimes,” he said it not lightly, not like verbal make-you-feel-better-bullshit. He said it like he knew about that kind of stuff—stuff that happened and scarred you. Somehow, the way he said it, she knew he was speaking from deep down. “I’m sorry I upset you.” He held out his hand to stop her, as she was about to interject again and tell him it wasn’t his fault. “My words stirred up something and for that I’m truly sorry.”
She shrugged, letting him say what he felt he needed to say.
“I’m glad we met today,” she told him. It suddenly dawned on her, in that moment, that her tears were those of relief.
Of finding someone who could read her so clearly, without her having to spell it all out.
Chapter 12
He felt more than awful for what he’d done to her.
The one chance he finally had to spend more than a passing moment with this girl, and he’d gone and reduced her to tears. How could he have been so careless?
She’d reassured him that she was going through things and that it wasn’t his fault. But the truth remained: he’d had the luck of meeting her unexpectedly again this morning, and instead of using that time to connect, he’d ended up making her cry. He’d sensed something was up from the moment he set eyes on her. After that he’d tried to steer the conversation to safer waters—they’d talked about their places of work, what she did and what he did.
Their offices were a fifteen-minute walk apart. He didn’t need to tell her that he could have stayed on the bus for another stop that would have taken him right outside his workplace. That ever since he’d started running into her, he always walked the extra stop.
She had no idea. The air of vulnerability and a kind of fragility she exuded, whatever the cause of it, turned her into the kind of girl nobody would notice only because she didn’t stand out in a crowd. Until one noticed her understated, quiet glam—as he had—and then it was impossible to forget that face.
At least that was how it had been for Noah—meeting Melissa. He looked over his shoulder and saw her walk toward the crossing, gave her one last parting glance, waited to see if she’d look back at him when she stopped at the crossing.
She didn’t.
He looked ahead and continued walking. Bit by bit, these little glimpses of her, stolen moments now and then, all these things gave him something to look forward to. They helped him forget and made him instead look ahead. To dare to dream of newer things. To bury the past.
He didn’t like sharing his past with anyone. His parents worried about him. Bree’s parents could see there was more that hid under his strong, fabricated exterior. But he still didn’t want to talk about it. The moments with Melissa helped him forget.
He’d dressed smartly and she’d noticed. He was still trying to gauge if she liked him or not, or was making polite talk. He no longer knew how to tell whether there was a “vibe” or not. He’d spent so long buried in his wall of misery, preferring to cut himself off from the need to interact with others, especially if there was a danger of it leading to anything. But now he’d met a girl he liked, and he no longer knew how to tell whether the feeling was reciprocated.
Melissa worked out, and she counted calories.
Bree had over-exercised and starved herself. He was better trained now and more alert to the signs to the extent that he was always on the lookout. Was he falling for the same kind of girl twice? Was he hardwired to attract a certain type of partner?
Was he mistaking Melissa for Bree?
He frowned, so deep in thought, trying to reason with himself. Melissa was no Bree. They were different and yet the same.
He wasn’t attracted to Melissa because she reminded him of Bree. And he knew nothing about Melissa except her sadness. The always pervasive sense of something being not right had been more visible this morning than ever before. He’d probed a little too deeply and touched a real nerve somewhere.
But what was her truth? Her story?
He shook his head. He had a meeting with Rory first thing. And it wouldn’t do to be inattentive when having a meeting with the Chief Security Officer of Black Diamond, a company that created and offered industry-leading security to companies that needed to defend their networks and infrastructure. Rory had high hopes for him, and with the chance to lead a growing team of security specialists, Noah’s star was now on the rise.
Rory had told him to recruit two new people, because the amount of work this San Francisco based startup had begun to attract indicated a busy year ahead.
Hence the smart suit. He’d shortlisted a couple of candidates and interviews were due to be held after the start of January, but he needed to go through the burgeoning list of applications they’d already received, even in the five days that the n
ew positions had been advertised.
Noah walked into Black Diamond offices, trying to turn his attention to work. But his mind was still full of Melissa. Now, more than ever, he was intrigued by the cause of her upset. Something she didn’t want to talk about—and he understood that perfectly. Nor would he ask her.
Just because they were starting to talk more, and he felt some kind of connection to her, it still didn’t yet give him any right to her innermost world or her thoughts.
He’d been a part of Bree’s world and she’d kept it all hidden from him too. He hadn’t even known of her sickness until the final months, and when he found out, he wondered how he could have failed to see it. The guilt, believing he could have saved her if he’d looked harder, listened more, read between the lines, never left him. Almost a year after and he still blamed himself. Her parents told him it wasn’t his fault, that she hid it so well, it was only towards the end that they had started to notice—and they lived with her. It still didn’t help assuage his feelings.
As he walked out of the elevator, weighed down by guilt, his cell rang. He answered it quickly. “The room’s available from next week. Let me know if you want it. You’ll have to move in over Christmas.”
“Thanks Paul, let me think about it.” He tucked the cell phone away. His well-meaning friend was subtly trying to get him to move out and move on.
He and Bree had talked about moving in together, long before she had pushed him away. Theirs had been pie-in-the-sky dreams with nothing concrete underpinning them; they hadn’t even looked for places to rent. This had been before her sickness became known to him, but she had ditched him before then.
Then she’d gone. And his plans had stopped. Life stopped. He was still living but not going anywhere. Not moving on.
Maybe now it was time to start healing and to forgive himself.
Moving into that shared accommodation with Paul would be a step in the right direction.
Chapter 13
She’d been thinking of Noah for most of the day. Even during her busiest time, typing minutes, assembling brochures, submitting expense claims, she’d replayed their conversation and the whole scene from this morning over and over in her head.
