Was me being pregnant bad news or good for Noah? I had no way of knowing. I wasn’t sure how he would have taken it back before the surgery, the coma . . . and the football news. But I had to tell him. He had a right to know. Didn’t he?
Frowning, I tapped onto my phone again.
Alison:Let me know when Noah is home again. I’d like to send a card.
If Emma thought that was odd, I didn’t really care anymore. She was going to start asking questions, and soon. Not much slipped by my friend. This time, though, if she started probing, I was ready to start talking. I wasn’t going to be able to hide this situation forever, after all.
Emma:Sure. I’ll keep you posted. Everything okay with you?
I laughed almost hysterically. Was everything okay?
Alison:Of course. Talk soon.
* * *
“Alison?Hey. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
I switched my cell phone to my other ear and leaned back in my chair. It was lunchtime, and the office was quiet. I’d been picking at a salad while I read over files and caught up on test results.
“No, not at all, Emma. Just having a working lunch.”
“Is there any other kind for women like us?” She laughed. “I don’t remember what it’s like to sit down and eat halfway through a day. I’m always gnawing on a protein bar as I run from one patient to the next.”
“And we’re supposed to be advising other people on their health,” I groaned. “Pitiful, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she agreed. “Listen, I’m not going to take up a bunch of your time. But since you seemed to be interested, I wanted to let you know that Noah was released from the hospital a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t know for sure because a lot of crap has been going down with him, I guess. I just found out yesterday that he was home when I called his friend Zeke. He and I got to know each other a little when we were both visiting the ICU so often, and we exchanged numbers so we could keep up on Noah’s condition.”
“Um.” I dropped my plastic fork into my salad container. “Wow. Is everything okay with Noah? Is he recovering all right?”
“It’s hard to say,” Emma sighed. “Zeke didn’t have much more information than I do. All I know is that he’s home, he’s stopped answering my calls and texts . . . and he’s in a pretty dark place, I’d say.” She was quiet for a moment. “You know, after Angela died, Noah . . . he was devastated. He grieved. But he never really raged against fate, you know? He did what he had to do, and then he buried himself in football and in helping me with the cabin. He hung out with me—with all of us in Harper Springs—most of the time. I think it might have been his way of ignoring the pain of losing her. I wonder if now, with both Angela and football ripped away from him, he’s having a delayed reaction to both things.”
“Possibly.” I twisted a paper napkin between my fingers. Time was ticking by too quickly. Some of the choices I had to make . . . they had an expiration date. I had to see Noah. There was no more time for waiting around for the perfect moment. If he was at home, well, then, that was where I’d go. It was probably better to tell him in person, anyway.
“Anyway, I don’t know what’s going on in his head. It’s hard. I miss him. Poor Deacon, he’s not sure whether to be furious at Noah for hurting me or understanding because he’s going through so much.”
“It’s a hard situation,” I agreed. “Listen, Emma. I do have to go now, but when’s your next day off? If I can make it happen, I’d love to come up and see you. I want to hear about the honeymoon . . . and I’d like to talk out some stuff with you, too, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course! I’d love to see you. How about Sunday afternoon here at the cabin? I can meet you halfway if you’d rather, but the cabin’s quiet and good for long talks. And I want you to see what we’ve done with it, too.”
“Sunday afternoon would be perfect. I’ll text when I’m on my way, okay?”
“Sure. See you then, Alison.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m looking forward to it.”
* * *
Three hours later,I turned off the main road outside of Noah’s property onto the gravel driveway that led to his home. My nerves were tightly strung, and I felt as though I could puke or burst into tears at any moment.
The last time I’d driven up to Noah’s house, he’d been in the car next to me, and we’d been in a mad rush to get to his bedroom. I could hear the echoes of his words even now, his voice strained by desire.
Sugar, you should know that with me, you come first. And last. And at least once in the middle on a slow night.
I shivered now, remembering that night. It had been . . . intense. And magical. And filled with not only the best sex of my entire life but also a lot of deep conversation and peals of laughter. We’d had such a good time.
This afternoon, though, I was by myself. Or maybe more accurately, I thought with a wry grin, I wasn’t precisely by myself since I was carrying along a little passenger . . .which was what brought me to his driveway in the first place.
I pulled the car up to his garage, turned it off, and sat for a moment, gathering my thoughts and my courage. With one more steadying breath, I climbed out and walked briskly up the porch steps, and before I could change my mind, I pushed the doorbell.
