After the Storm

by Faith Andrews

  “Why are we here? I don’t see the point?”

  Questions! She’s had way too many and I don’t want to answer any of them. I just want this over with. But I dig deep with a calm, soothing breath and explain. “I have to get the rest of my stuff out of here. There can be no trace of me when he returns. The sooner I’m out of his life, the better.”

  “Do you know what a fool you are? You sound like—like—”

  “Like a woman who knows when to walk away. Admit it, Sloane. He doesn’t need someone with my issues in his life.”

  “Maybe he loves you—issues and all. Did you ever think about that? Huh?”

  I have thought about it. I was this close to believing it too, but seeing him with Mia—hearing how he longed for what a future with her promised him—“I can’t be selfish anymore, Sloane. I have to do what’s right for him.”

  “Why can’t you stop the righteous drama for once and do what’s right for you?” Her voice is loud and commanding. She thinks she’s scary, but it’s quite the opposite. It’s a waste of her breath. I’ve been through this over and over a thousand times in my head. I know what I have to do and I won’t change my mind.

  “You’re wrong.” I fight through my tears. Sometimes doing the right thing hurts like hell. “Now, be my friend and help me get out of here.”

  “You’ll have to face him eventually, you know? I spoke to him. I heard what he said. He won’t give up as easily as you might hope. He’s coming home for you. He wants you, Willow. You can’t run away forever. Soon enough you’ll have to grow a set and actually say goodbye.”

  I’ve accepted that too; I already planned what I’ll say in my head. Noah, I love you enough to let you go and give you the freedom to go out and get what you deserve. I’m not blind—you’re a caring person who needs to share that love and instill it in someone else. You’re wasting your time with me. I know you love me, but that will fade. Your need for a child never will.

  It will kill me to confess this, even if I’ve rehearsed it as if it’s an insignificant script with no meaning behind it. My infertility is no longer the single thing I can’t recover from. Loving Noah, leaving, and letting him go will take longer than forever to get over, but I have to do this before I drag him down with me in this childless life sentence.

  “Hello?”

  A female voice calls out from reception and startles me from my mission to get the hell out of here unnoticed.

  “Who’s there?” Sloane demands. She leaves my office to seek out our intruder. “Office is closed. Can we take a message for you?”

  “I was hoping to find Noah. Do you know where he is?”

  I recognize her sultry tone immediately. It’s Tori. Could she have worse timing?

  Dropping the pile of papers from my hands, I stalk off to meet my unwelcome guest. “No, he’s back east. You can call him on his cell if you really need to get in—” Holy shit, she got fat! Or is that—“You’re pregnant?”

  I stare at her protruding stomach as though it’s an abomination and jump to the worst possible conclusion—this is Noah’s baby. My eyes grow wide and my heart jumps out of my chest.

  “Yes,” she preens and caresses her tiny bump like she’s carrying the next Prince of England. “I’m having a baby. Noah didn’t tell you?”

  Why would he tell me such a thing? Unless of course—it is his! Oh my God! This baby is his. This skank who he used to screw around with is pregnant with his child—another slap in the face to remind me I’m a broken woman who will never measure up, not even to the town whore. My body collapses to the floor. The weight of the last twenty four hours and this news has broken me into a puddle of emotions.

  “That son of a fucking bitch,” Sloane snarls. She grabs fists full of her auburn locks like she wishes they were Tori’s throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “Oh, I assure you, I’m not kidding. As you can see I am very much pregnant, but I think you’ve got the wrong idea.”

  How could I possibly have the wrong idea? My boyfriend is having a baby with someone else and it’s just the most fantastic karma of all wretched twists of karma that this would happen to me. “What the hell did I do to you?” I cry, throwing my hands up and cursing God. “Why are you so cruel? Why are you doing this to me?”

  Sloane falls to her knees beside me and wraps her arms around my trembling frame. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Come on. I’ve got you.” Her words are soothing whispers in my ear.

  “Wait a minute!” I assume I know why Tori’s here, and muster the energy to speak directly to her. “You’re leaving, aren’t you? How dare you up and run away with something—someone—who belongs to him! He’s—he’s damn near perfect! He’d be the most amazing father ever and you’re just—you’re taking his baby? Away from him? What kind of person are you? You—you—”

  “Whoa, chica! Calm your tits.” Tori throws one hand up while she cradles her swollen belly with the other. “This is not Noah’s baby, and I’m not taking him away from his father.”

  “Huh? Then what are you doing here?” Sloane and I both drop our mouths open like stupefied morons.

  “I came here to say goodbye to Noah. The baby’s father and I worked things out. We’re moving to Oregon so the baby can be close to his grandparents. I just wanted to give Noah a proper farewell. He’s always been a good—friend.”

  Friend, my ass. I almost say it, but the relief that her baby was not fathered by Noah is all I can focus on. “You mean? It’s . . . he’s . . . you’re?”

  “I’m not having your man’s kid, lady. Promise. Cross my heart, hope to die. This child is the product of a steamy one-nighter with Harrison Gentry. At first I thought it was a curse—I actually prayed for a while that I miscalculated and it was Noah’s—but when push came to shove, Harry stepped up. This is a blessing in disguise. A shock nonetheless, but—why am I telling you two this?” She snaps to, shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

  “From the looks of things I have shitty timing, so can you please have him call me? I really wanted to thank him in person for being a stand-up guy, but I guess I missed my shot.” She lowers her gaze to the floor. The meaning behind her words is twofold. They sting my ears and electrify something inside that warns me about her message. I missed my shot. Noah’s the kind of guy you never want to pass up. I could tell Mia had a glimmer of regret, no matter how perfect her life seemed. Tori has that same absent look in her eyes when she talks about Noah. I guess I’ll wear the same misplaced frown soon too.

  I huff. I just want to pack my stuff and move on. “Sure thing, Tori. I’ll get the message to him.” I turn to continue my mission, but freeze in my tracks at Tori’s interruption.

  “Willow, you’re a lucky girl, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Facing her, my eyes reach hers to pull any ounce of retained honesty. I want desperately to hear how Noah feels about me. It’s a futile exercise—I’ve made up my mind—but it’ll still be nice to hear.

  “He loves you something awful, girl. I could tell from the first time I saw you two together. We never had anything remotely close to that. It was just fun, but you—you’re everything he’s ever wanted, ever needed, ever deserved. Noah Matheson has a lot to give. Take it and hold on to it. And then never let it go.”

  Tori—an unexpected pleasant surprise after two days of chaos and confusion—walks away and out of the office. She leaves my mind reeling, as if it hadn’t been before.

  Sloane and I stare at each other in awe, silent save for the sniffles from my cries.

  “See? I’m not the only one who thinks you’re crazy, Lo, and she doesn’t even fucking know you. You’re making a mistake. You need to think this through before you run away. I’ll support you no matter what, but babe, you deserve this. You deserve each other. Stop punishing yourself for something you have no control over.”

  In the arms of my best friend I let the words of a stranger seep into my soul. I want so badly for them to mean something—anything to make me realize I
am in fact making a mistake. But I can’t give in. It would only mean I let my heart win over my intellect again. I know leaving is right. Freeing him is right. I’m a curse that should never have been inflicted on someone as perfect as Noah.

  It takes a moment to muster enough gumption to vocalize my wishes. I swallow back the last of the tears and lift my chin up high. “I have control over this and I’m doing what needs to be done. Now please, Sloane, help me pack up so I can leave. For good. One more second in this damn place and I’ll cave, and I can’t have that. Not for him. Noah deserves better.”

  Sloane closes her eyes—a sign she’s finally succumbed to my demand. I take her hand in mine and let out a heavy breath of frustration, sadness, emptiness, and despair. I use Angela’s desk for support and stand from my crouched position on the floor. When I’m upright, ready to move on with my purpose, I come face to face with the only person who can stop me from walking away.

  Red-rimmed eyes, sunken and colorless, drained of hope, full of desperation—Noah. My Noah. He’s here. He came for me.

  He brackets my face in his strong hands, forces me to stare right into his weathered eyes. My breath hitches when his thumbs caress my stunned lips. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  Get to Willow. Get to Willow. Get to Willow. “Come on!” I scream at the cabby. “Can’t you go any faster?”

  He rolls his eyes and grunts, and pays me no mind as he navigates the roadwork and detours to get me to Matheson Contracting, ASAP.

  After speaking with Sloane—on the DL—I know that’s where Willow is. Sloane—God love her—bought me time by lying about my flight and omitting the fact we’d been in constant contact since Willow fled. If it weren’t for Jeffy-Poo, I’d beg Blaze to get his shit together and make Sloane his. She’s a good girl, a keeper. Not only does she have her friend’s best interests at heart, but she sees how much I love Willow and has been a true friend to me too.

  I hold on to the oh-shit-handle above my head, welcome the cabby’s crazy ass driving, and pray I arrive at the office before she leaves.

  When we finally pull up, I see Sloane’s car out front and a wave of relief washes over me. I exit the cab, grab our luggage, and tip the driver more than I should. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it!” It doesn’t even cover how grateful I am to be here—inches from Willow—after I thought I lost her for good.

  I run into the office and leave our luggage in the hallway, to find Willow and Sloane in a sad embrace in the reception area. Quietly, as to not be noticed, I step inside and appraise my findings. She’s here. In one piece. This isn’t a dream—this is reality.

  I inch closer to them. Sloane senses my presence but remains silent. Ending their hug, Willow stands from the ground. She spins around and her hazel eyes meet mine with such shock I mimic her reaction before coming to.

  With steady feet and controlled breathing, I take her face in my hands and focus on her trembling lips, the tears in her eyes. God, how I love this woman. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  She’s stunned still—like a cat caught with a canary tail poking out of her mouth; like a kid apprehended with his hand in his mother’s cookie jar; like a beautiful woman too afraid to face what’s right in front of her.

  “Hi.” I break the silence with a beaming smile. “I’m here. You’re here. This wasn’t easy, you know.”

  Words caught in her throat, she simply stares.

  Sloane speaks first, a painfully uncomfortable expression on her pretty face. “I’m . . . uh . . . just gonna . . . I’m gonna go.” She scurries past, leaving Willow and me alone. At last. I thought for a while this moment would never come. I was so afraid I’d never have this chance to see her again—to savor the touch of her skin beneath my fingertips. She’s real, tangible, within grasp.

  “You scared me something awful, Willow. Why’d you run?”

  I know the answer, but I need to hear her say it so I can argue with her and tell her she’s crazy. This shit has got to be settled once and for all.

  “I—I—”

  “Don’t be shy, baby. Own it. Why did you leave me?”

  My fingers ache to silence her fears. With my hands still cradling her beautiful face, I move my thumbs to graze her lips. But she backs away to avoid my intimate touch. Her aversion stings. I expected this reaction from her, but didn’t anticipate how it would make me feel. Ache. Yearn. Hunger. “Don’t,” I command. “Don’t shudder at my touch. You never did before. There’s no reason to now.”

  “But there is,” she admits, her voice frail and lifeless. “Noah, this—we—it needs to end.”

  I laugh at her ridiculousness. “Not happening, but fill me in anyway. Give me some insight as to what’s going on in that pretty, worried, little head of yours.”

  “It’s not funny. I’m serious. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

  “You think I’m just gonna walk away and pretend I’m okay with you leaving? You’re outta your skull, Willow. Ain’t happening. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you!”

  I grab her wrists and pull her against my body.

  “Let me go! Stop! Just—just let me go.” Her frame slackens against mine, and tears roll down her cheeks. Pain contorts her beautiful features as she jerks free of my hold and bangs her fists against my chest to get away.

  “No!” I refuse. “I can’t let you go. You’re mine. Stop fighting it. Why do you keep fighting me?” I’m no longer strong enough to contain my emotions. Her withdrawal is enough to drive me bat shit crazy. I take a deep breath to control my desperation and bite my bottom lip to curb the words that want to fly from my mouth.

  After long moments of silence that weaken me as a human being and threaten every glimmer of hope I ever had in happy endings, Willow whimpers. The shallow sound of her moan stabs my gut with piercing pain. “You deserve better. Please let me go. You deserve so much better.”

  Why does she think this way? Why does she have such little faith in herself? It’s time to stop this shit once and for all. No holds barred. Enough is enough. “Shut up! Just shut up and stop saying that. You are everything to me. Every-fucking-thing. I live for you. I wake up for you. I go to sleep thinking and then dreaming of you. I don’t know why you can’t get past what you think I want, but I am telling you now. I. Want. You. I. Need. You. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care that you can’t have kids. I don’t care that you don’t think you’re enough. I know—with every single bone, muscle, cell, and hair on my body—that I am in love with you, Willow Jones. Not the idea of you, not the promise of what a future holds or what the past has already given us. I love you right now, in the present, in the flesh, for all that you are, as you are. Am I being clear enough? Do you get it now? I would walk across the country to get you back and prove it all to you. You are mine. There’s no running away. Please, Willow. What will it take for you to understand all of this?”

  Her eyes glisten with pools of tears. Pretty, pink tinted lips quiver as she cries. Willow’s hands fly up to my neck and wrap so tightly I fear she might suffocate me. But I’d welcome that—death at her hands, in her arms, just to know for one split second that she understands the depth of my love.

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobs. Her face is buried in my neck as she lets go of it all.

  “For what, baby girl? You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry. I hate that you had to witness that. I’m sorry if I hurt you, I wasn’t thinking, but please know I never intended—”

  “No, let me say this.” She interrupts me without lifting her face from my chest. Her tears soak my shirt unmercifully. I grant her the stage so she can expel her poison. That’s what it is—all that pent up insecurity. Poison, corrupting the beautiful person she is from the inside out. “I am so sorry I can never give you children and I’m sorry that I can’t be like her—like Mia. Part of me will always feel like I’m living in her shadow by not being able to give you what she could have.”

  I rumble beneat
h her touch. I want to stop her from her incessant fixation on this one thing; I need her to understand that she’s too special to live in anyone’s shadow. But before I can speak, her hands are at my lips to silence me.

  “Let me finish. I need to get this out.”

  I nod and hold back so much more than I ever imagined I could.

  Willow takes another labored breath. Her palms rub up and down my arms. “We are put on this earth to procreate. That’s what I believe. Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Boy marries girl. Girl carries boy’s children and the cycle continues on and on and on. I believe this, Noah. I was brought up to have faith in this very thing, so to have it stripped from me—I don’t have that confidence in God anymore. It’s something I can’t muster. It’s an everyday struggle I don’t expect you to understand. But—” She chokes back more tears, her eyes search mine for understanding. I listen; I allow her this outlet, but want so badly to rid her of her pain and tell her she doesn’t need to continue. It’s too late for that, though. I owe her this. Her hurt is my hurt, right? We have to endure it together.

  “Go on, baby,” I encourage her. She smiles amidst a tear stained face, and spews out the rest of what eats at her.

  “But if you’re willing to stand by me, accept me with my flaws and all, I can get through this. I can stop running away from your love. I can come to terms with the hand I’ve been dealt and take what we do have as a blessing.” Her lips touch mine, a tinge of saltiness mars her plump flesh. “I’m sorry I ran. I am so sorry I caused you pain. Your pain is mine, and the pain of living without you is far worse than the harshest ache I’ve felt thus far. We’ll be okay. Just the two of us. We’ll be okay?” It’s a question and a reassuring statement all rolled into one.

  With her arms still wrapped around me, I lift her face to mine, suck the briny taste from her lips and devour her the way I hope to from now until the end of time.

  “I love you, Willow. I’ve loved you for a long time—longer than I should admit—and I’m gonna love you till the day I die. Please stop comparing yourself to Mia because, baby, there is no comparison. You were made for me; you’re my destiny. She was a tiny piece of my past, but you’re the one who keeps me sane in the present and hopeful for a future. So, no more running. No more crying. We’ve weathered this storm and together—just us two—it’s time to appreciate the clear blue skies ahead.”