He nods and leans back against the counter, studying me, and I bristle under his stare.
“You’ve been getting up early to walk her and coming to bed late,” he says.
I swallow and nod. “Yeah, I know, work has been hectic. Walking Aspen is a nice way to disassociate before I start,” I say. It’s not a complete lie.
“Hmm.” Licking his lips, he places his glass on the counter. “There’s something else. What’s going on?” he asks, stepping towards me until I’m back against the other counter, his hands going to each side of me, caging me in.
“Nothing. Like I said, work’s hectic.”
His eyes bore into mine.
“It’s more than that, Noah. Jessica and I are both worried about you,” he admits.
I tilt my head to the side. “You’ve been talking about me. Are you serious?”
He frowns. “We’re concerned about you. You’ve not been yourself lately.”
I grind my jaw. “Fucking hell, I said I’m fine.”
My hands move to his chest, pushing him back enough to slip around him.
Jessica is standing there, her jaw agape, her phone gripped in her palm.
“Noah,” she says, her voice soft.
I shake my head.
Her eyes glisten, confused, as I pass her, my chest tight.
Chapter Eleven
JESSICA
“Let him go, sweet girl,” Caleb says as Noah moves past me.
I’m torn between going after him and demanding he tell us what’s wrong or listening to Caleb and letting him be for the moment.
I hate confrontation, a trauma response from everything that’s happened, but it's obvious something is going on with him. I just want him to confide in us. I feel like our relationship is fraying, and I hate it.
Noah seemed so pissed off, hurt even, when Caleb asked what was wrong, and seeing his reaction had my anxiety growing.
Caleb walks up behind me and pulls me into his chest.
“Maybe I should have waited to talk to him,” he says, resting his chin on my shoulder.
I turn in his arms and look up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You think?” I shake my head. “I thought that’s what we agreed to do on our drive home after dinner,” I say with a sigh.
He nods. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I couldn’t help it. I hate this feeling of disconnect. It’s so unlike him.”
I swallow down the thick emotion building. “I know, Caleb, I feel it too. But whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll talk to us when he’s ready.” And yet, even as I say it, I wonder if it’s true. It hurts more than I care to admit.
But I’ll give him the same grace he gave me when I was at my lowest. He needs our empathy. If he needs time, we owe it to him to give him that. Maybe his reaction was his way of setting some kind of unspoken boundary. I may not understand, not yet anyway. I’ll do my best to try to respect that and be patient. The same way they did for me when I was a shadow of the woman I am now.
“Do you think something has happened?” I ask Caleb, and not for the first time. I asked him the same question back in the car. Honestly, I felt relieved when he brought it up.
I wasn’t going to say anything, hoping it was just me and that I was overthinking it; it wouldn’t be the first time.
