She looks at me, a kind smile on her face. “What’s your father’s name, darling?”
I straighten, keeping the panic at bay as best as I can. “It’s Peter Simmons, ma’am.”
Noah tenses next to me, and I turn to look at him to find him frowning, his eyes on the wall behind Susan. “Everything okay?” I whisper. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he stares into space, lost in thought.
“Your father was transferred out of the ICU,” Susan tells us, giving me his room number. “Based on what I can see here, he seems to be out of danger, but he’s being monitored closely. You should be able to go see him.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling conflicted. “Thank you,” I whisper, my hand slipping into Noah’s. I turn to follow Susan’s directions, but Noah stays rooted in place.
“Noah,” I murmur, pulling on his hand. He looks at me, but it’s almost like he’s looking straight through me. I don’t know what he’s seeing, but the way he looks at me scares me. He’s never looked at me that way before, almost like I’m a stranger.
Noah nods at me, snapping out of it. He falls into step with me as we walk toward my father’s room, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything is wrong. I can’t escape this sense of impending doom, and my intuition is never wrong.
Chapter 47
Noah
Peter Simmons. She said her father’s name was Peter Simmons. It can’t be, right? It must be a coincidence.
I’m numb as I follow Amara to her father’s room. Her hand feels foreign in mine. If she is who I think she is, then that changes everything for us. Fear claws at me, warring with the denial I’m so desperately reaching for.
Amara hesitates as we reach the hospital room, her hand trembling as she knocks on the door. There’s no answer, and she looks at me. She’s looking for reassurance, but all I want to do is walk away.
All I can see is those beautiful blue eyes of hers. I thought they were identical to her mother’s, but I can see it now. They’re identical to his. It’s these same eyes that haunted Aria for years, the eyes that had her screaming from night terrors.
I tear my gaze away, telling myself it must all be a coincidence, but I know I’m fooling myself. There’s no such thing as coincidence.
Amara opens the door, and her hand falls out of mine as she walks in. She pauses and looks back at me, her gaze searching. I stare at her, my heart sinking. Could it be?
When Amara told me her father ruined two families, I never once suspected that one of them was mine. I bite down on my lip and shake my head, forcing myself to do what I urged Amara to do just minutes ago. Stay in the present.
I force a smile onto my face and follow her in, scared of what I’ll find. For once, I want to be proven wrong.
“Dad?” Amara says. I’m right behind her, my heart racing as I come face to face with Peter Simmons. He looks at Amara, his eyes identical to hers. It’s indeed her father’s eyes she got. Did Aria know? When Amara and I visited, did she know? Did she recognize the eyes that haunt her?
I take in the man lying in his bed, a nurse seated next to him. Peter Simmons’ wrists are bandaged and his eyes are hollow, but he’s alive. He looks strong. Likely depressed, but physically healthy.
Amara bursts into tears and rushes up to him. “Daddy, what did you do?” she asks, her voice wobbly. My heart twists painfully, but I can’t make myself look at her. I can’t take my eyes off the man that murdered my parents, leaving my sister to find them lying in a pool of their own blood.
It’s him. There’s no doubt in my mind. He looks older, but it’s him. When Aria told me he was released early, serving only fifteen years, I didn’t react the way she did. I was numb, well aware of how the justice system lets victims like my parents down. I didn’t let the anger consume me. Instead, I just focused on building a good life, being a good person.
What for?
“Noah?” Amara says, her voice soft. Peter looks at me, and his eyes widen. I see the horror in them, and it gives me a sense of gratification. I look just like my father, and it brings me a small amount of peace to know he remembers my father’s face. I hope his crimes haunt him at night. I hope he sees my parents every single time he closes his eyes. I take a step closer to him, my gaze falling to his bandaged wrists. Hatred consumes me, and for a single moment I let it get the best of me. For a single moment, I allow myself to forget my oaths and wish he hadn’t been saved.
“Noah?” he repeats after Amara.
My eyes snap to his, and I grit my teeth. “You keep my name out of your mouth,” I warn him.
He swallows hard, and Amara whips around, her eyes wide. “Noah, what’s wrong with you?” she asks, her tone high. She looks confused, and I stare at her, wondering if it’s all a show.
“Did you know?” I ask her. “Did you know your father is a murderer?”
Her lips fall open, the shock in her eyes apparent. “I…”
I take a step closer to her and place my finger underneath her chin, tilting her face up, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I asked you a question, Amara. Did you know?”
She swallows hard, her eyes falling closed as she nods.
I laugh humorlessly and shake my head. I should have known. I should’ve known something was wrong. Nothing good ever happens to me. Certainly nothing as good as Amara. I should’ve known our happiness was tainted. I should’ve expected it.
“Did you lie next to me, knowing your father murdered my parents? Did you stare at the photos in my hallway, knowing it’s your father that killed mine?”
I look at her, her long red hair, the freckles on her nose, and those eyes… those damn eyes. She looks at me in shock and shakes her head in denial. “I… Noah, no. What are you talking about? Smith. Their name was Smith. It can’t be. It isn’t…”
I laugh, the name sounding foreign to me, even though it used to be mine. “My sister chose the name Grant. It isn’t the name she or I were born with. She chose it to escape the past, to keep people from uncovering our past, to keep from being pitied endlessly. She chose it to escape the damage your father did to us.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter Simmons says. “I’ve never had a chance to say sorry to you or to your sister. I’ve thought of her every day since then. Nothing I can say will ever right my wrongs, but if I could go back into the past—”
“You can’t,” I snap. “You can’t change the past. You can’t undo the crimes you committed. You might be a free man now, but you’ll always be a murderer.” I stare at him, hatred overcoming me. “It’s too bad you failed today. You don’t deserve to live. You don’t deserve the blood people have donated, the resources that went into saving you. You should’ve paid for your crimes with your life.” I take a step back and shake my head. “I’ll leave now, before I finish what you started, Hippocratic oath be damned. I’ll spare you today, but don’t fucking appear in front of me ever again.”
I turn to walk away, but I’ve only just made it to the hallway when Amara grabs my hand. I yank my hand away, barely even able to look at her.
“Noah, I didn’t know,” she says, her eyes panicked.
“I don’t believe you,” I tell her. “I see it now. The warnings your grandfather gave me, the guilt in your mother’s eyes. I thought they were being nice, but they were trying to make amends — and what a shit job they did. And you? You’re just as bad. You know what he did, yet here you are.”
“Noah, he’s my father. You told me… you told me to…”
“Amara, when you told me he destroyed two families, I thought he cheated. I didn’t think he was a murder,” I shout, unable to keep my emotions in check. “I didn’t think he was the man that left my sister and me orphans.”
She bursts into tears, her eyes filled with desperation and sorrow. Part of me wants to take her in my arms, but a larger part of me knows things will never be the same between us.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I’ve never told anyone, Noah. You’re not the only one running from your past.
I was embarrassed and scared of what you’d think of me. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I was scared that you’d look at me the way you do right now.”
I shake my head. “As you should’ve been. Stay the fuck away from me and my sister, Amara. Stay away.”
I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there, crying her heart out. The sound of her heart breaking haunts me all the way home.
Chapter 48
Amara
“Are you okay?” Dad asks. I look up, startled. I’ve been sitting here with him, torn between making sure he’s okay and following Noah. My thoughts are whirling, shock keeping me rooted. It can’t be. Out of everyone, it can’t be Noah.
I glance at my father, unsure how to even feel. I’ve struggled with wanting to see him for months now, and on the way here I was so sure I was making the right choice… now I’m not so sure.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, feeling detached. It’s almost like I’m mentally completely checked out, yet at the same time I’m fully aware of the words leaving my lips.
“How?” he asks, his voice shaky.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, Dad. I didn’t know. I never… I knew he lost his parents when he was young, but that’s all I know. I even googled him, but there were no search results at all. I didn’t know.”
Dad nods, the look in his eyes mirroring mine. I force myself to pull it together, pasting a shaky smile onto my face. “How do you feel?” I ask carefully. “I can’t believe…” I can’t even finish the words. He tried taking his own life. After years in prison, he almost threw away his freedom.
“I have nothing to live for, Amara. It was easier being behind bars. I had a routine there. Here? The world has changed, and I can’t catch up. Besides… Noah was right. I should have paid for my crimes with my life. Instead, they let me out early. I did the one thing I wanted above all: I saw you one last time. You seemed happy, and you didn’t need me. I just… I didn’t see the point.”
I hesitate before reaching out, placing my hand over his. “I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m not happy. I’m mad, and I’m hurt, but I missed you. I missed you throughout the years. Every Father’s Day, prom night, graduation. I…”
Dad tightens his grip on my hand and looks away, but that does nothing to hide the tears in his eyes. My heart squeezes painfully, breaking in so many different ways.
“I need time, Dad. Despite what happened, I can’t tell you that I want you in my life. The things you did… I know you paid by serving your sentence, but I…”
“I understand,” he says, nodding.
“I don’t think you do,” I murmur. “I don’t know what a relationship between us would look like, Dad. It’s been so long, and I… I don’t know. What I do know is that I want to have a choice. Please, will you give me that? Please don’t make me mourn you before I ever get to know you.”
He nods, a tear running down his cheek. I squeeze his hand, a thousand regrets running through my mind. I wish I’d pushed Noah about his parents. I wish I’d questioned my mother more when she told me to stay away. I wish I hadn’t ignored my father’s text messages for as long as I did. I wish I’d told Noah what my father did, so he’d have been able to figure out the secrets my family were keeping even if I never did. I wish I’d heeded my grandfather’s warnings. I wish I’d let Noah walk away when he tried. I have a thousand regrets, but those change nothing. I can’t undo the past. I can only face the future with as much courage as I can muster.
My thoughts are whirling all the way home. Home. When did I start to think of Noah’s house as home? I don’t even know if I’m still welcome there, or if he even wants to see me. I can’t shake the feeling that I lost him the second he realized who my father was. I’m scared of what I’ll face when I walk in. I have no words, no excuses. Being who I am, I don’t even have the right to fight for him, for us.
He might know who my father is, but I doubt he knows the full story. I doubt he knows I am the reason his parents died. How could he ever love me? How could he ever be with me? And how could I ever expect it of him?
I’m trembling by the time I walk up to the front door. The house is silent as I walk in, and I pause in the hallway, my eyes roaming over all the photos in the hallway. Photos of lives cut short. Because of me.
My stomach churns as I walk up the stairs. I can hear Noah’s footsteps, and I’m scared. I’m scared to face him. I’m scared he’ll look at me like I’m a stranger. I’m not sure my heart can take it, even though I know I deserve it.
I inhale shakily, pausing in front of the closed bedroom door, trying my best to gather my courage. I swallow hard and open the door, my heart beating loudly as I take a hesitant step forward.
I can’t look him in the eye. Instead, I stare at the open suitcase on his bed. It takes me a few moments to realize it isn’t my clothes he’s packing. It’s his own.
I look up, my every fear coming true. He looks at me in disgust and shakes his head, tearing his gaze away as though he can’t stand to look at me.
“Where are you going?” I whisper.
“Anywhere. Away from you. Us. This,” he says, gesturing between us.
I swallow back my tears as best as I can, trying my best to stay strong. “Don’t.” My voice breaks, and I wrap my arms around myself. “I’ll go. This is your home.”
Noah laughs, the sound chilling. “No, it isn’t. This is just a house. Your father destroyed my home.”
I stare at my feet, unable to face him. “I swear to you, Noah. I didn’t know. I never even suspected it.”
He closes his suitcase, his movements rushed. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” His voice is rough, angry. I can’t blame him, but it still hurts. Every fiber of my being is pleading for me to voice the words I’m keeping in. Please stay. Look at me. I love you.
Instead, I fight to keep my tears hidden, my nails digging into my arms. The pain helps me keep the tears at bay, but it doesn’t soothe my aching heart.
“I want you gone,” he says, his voice soft. “By the time I get back, I want you gone. I don’t want a single trace of you in my house. Not a single reminder of the mistake I made.”
He walks past me, his shoulder brushing against mine. I so badly want to reach out for him. I want to grab his hand and beg him to stay… but I don’t have the right.
So I watch him leave.
Noah walks away, and he doesn’t look back once. I hear the front door slam closed, and with it the greatest love I’ll ever experience comes to an end. I know it deep down to my soul. I lost him, and I’ll probably never even see him again.
I drop to my knees in the room we shared, knowing I’ll never spend another night here. I’ll never spend another night in his arms. My tears are hot and my throat burns from the sobs I kept at bay. I curl up on the floor, crying for all Noah and I lost, for everything we’ll never have.
Chapter 49
Noah
I key in the passcode to Grayson’s penthouse and freeze when the door opens before I finish going through his countless security measures.
Aria leans against the doorway, a worried look in her eyes. “It’s three in the morning,” she says. “How are you here?”
Grayson appears behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Come in, buddy,” he says, no questions asked. I follow him in and pause in the hallway. The last time I was here, I was with Amara. I push away every thought of her, barely able to bear the pain.
Aria tips her head toward the living room, and I follow her, my steps heavy, reluctant. I have to tell her, but I know that the second I do that, everything between Amara and me is truly over.
Grayson holds up a whiskey glass, and I take it gratefully, emptying it in one go. It doesn’t even remotely numb the pain, but that’s only because I haven’t had enough yet. I’d give anything to drown out the memories tonight. Not just of Amara, but of my parents. Of Aria refusing to speak for years, the countless times I had to sit beside her as night terrors haunted her. How d
o I tell my sister that I fell for the daughter of our parents’ murderer? How do I explain that I brought her into their home? Where do I even begin to ask for forgiveness?
Grayson sits down next to Aria, his face expressionless, and I shake my head. He used to always be by my side, but tonight I’m grateful Aria has him. She’ll need him to endure what I’m about to tell her.
“Aria,” I say, my voice wavering. “Amara is Peter Simmons’ daughter.”
She looks at me, and I can’t quite describe her expression. She looks resigned, wary. Aria nods, her movements slow. “I know, Noah.”
I stare at her, not quite comprehending her words. “You… know?”
She nods. “I knew who she was the second I first heard her name. Amara… it isn’t a very common name.”
I look at my sister wide-eyed, my mind whirling. “You knew, and you welcomed her with open arms?”
Aria nods, her expression guarded. “She is not her father.”
I rise to my feet, my anger overflowing. “What the fuck, Aria? What the fuck do you mean she’s not her father? I fucking know that, but she’s still that man’s daughter. How could you welcome her into your home? How could you not have told me? How could you let me…”
Aria crosses her arms, her eyes flashing with anger. “Let you what? Fall in love? Be happy for once?”
“Happy?” I repeat. “How could you watch me fall in love with her without a single warning? How could you, when you knew she and I were on borrowed time?”
Aria stands up, her expression one I’ve never seen on her before. She looks angry, but there’s also understanding and compassion in her eyes. She lacks the sadness I’ve come to expect to find in her eyes.
“I could, and I did, because she is not him. Amara doesn’t deserve to be punished for crimes she didn’t commit. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me she isn’t the best thing that ever happened to you? That she didn’t make you happy in a way you didn’t think you could ever be?”
Dr. Grant (Off-Limits) Page 21
