Birdie: In your world it does.
Damn her for seeing right through me. Doesn’t mean I’m going to confirm her suspicion.
Birdie: Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.
Shep: I have to go. I’m making lunch.
Birdie: For Noelle?!
Shep: Bye Birdie.
If she and Noelle ever got together, they’d make sure I had no peace. So it’s probably a good thing that’ll never happen.
I flip the grilled cheese sandwiches on the skillet and give the tomato soup another stir. It’s nothing fancy, but I want to make sure Noelle eats before taking pain meds.
As I gather the tray table I keep on top of the fridge, medicine, bottled water, and a fresh ice pack, I replay the part of Noelle’s conversation I overheard about the holidays. She sounded so defeated when she said she wasn’t sure if she’d get to celebrate or put up a Christmas tree.
I recall her asking me whether I would decorate, but I brushed it off. I haven’t done anything for the holidays in years, and until now, I haven’t had a reason.
But maybe now I do.
Two pillows are tucked under my arm as I balance the tray with one hand and tap on the bedroom door with my other.
“Come in,” Noelle calls out.
I enter to find her still on the bed, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, the other folded beneath her thigh. Her hair is pulled into a loose bun, and she leans against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. She’s stunning with an understated elegance. Two days ago, that was a mark against her, but I’ve quickly grown to like her confidence and effortless charm.
She glances in my direction as I place the tray on the bedside table.
“You didn’t need to knock. This is your room, and you don’t need permission to come in,” she says, motioning around.
“I wasn’t sure if you were done talking with your friend yet.” That’s partly true—I caught the tail end, but they could have continued after I was out of earshot. Unlikely but possible.
“Gemma is visiting family, so I didn’t want to keep her too long.”
“That was considerate of you.” Noelle watches as I take the pillows from under my arms and slide them under her foot. “Sorry, I forgot these earlier.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, that’s okay.”
Looks like she’s hoping I won’t mention what I saw in her bag, and that’s fine by me. I’d rather not admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about those toys and all the ways I could make her come without even laying a finger on her.
I lift the ice pack for her to see. “I brought this too. It’ll help with the swelling.” She sighs softly when I put it on her ankle, laying it flat to stay in place.
“Thank you,” she whispers, relaxing against the headboard.
“No problem.” I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Mind if I ask why you’re not spending the holidays with your family?”
Sadness clouds her features, yet she manages a small smile. “I’m an only child, and my parents are on a month-long European cruise. It’s the first year we won’t celebrate Christmas together, but they recently retired, and this is the first thing they’ve done for themselves in a long time. I couldn’t ask them to change their plans.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” Noelle doesn’t strike me as someone who gives up easily on the things she values most.
“They invited me and my ex, but he wanted to stay in New York for the holidays, and after we split this past summer, it was too late for me to get a ticket.”
I’m not usually the sentimental type, but I feel for her. I was close to both my parents before they passed, and even when I didn’t feel like celebrating after Danielle left, my mom made sure I came over every Christmas. I didn’t always show it, but I cherished that time with my parents. Not that I’m about to unload all that on Noelle right now.
“What did he do to make you end things?” I ask.
She tilts her head, smirking. “Why do you assume I was the one who left him?”
