Page 108 of Finding Noah

“Asshole,” I grumbled, glowering angrily before driving away, almost forgetting my defeated mind and dead-end investigation.

But only almost.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ANSWERED PRAYERS

That night, I took Aunt Stormy and Uncle Charlie out for dinner at a nice place called Turner's to thank them for their hospitality, even though Aunt Stormy insisted on paying.

Sitting across from them at the table, I observed their shared glances, the silent conversation they had with their eyes and nothing but. I felt like a third wheel to the party at times, yet I didn't mind.

I just missed Meg.

And I wished that she were here.

The conversation was steered in directions away from my whereabouts for the day, focusing more on the wedding and the never-ending plans for the house. Aunt Stormy insisted they would visit soon to check the place out, but I knew better than to expect anything to come from it. Uncle Charlie didn't often get time away from his duties at the cemetery, whether by choice or otherwise, and I suspected they wouldn't be down to Connecticut at any point before the wedding. But that was okay. I knew people had their lives to tend to, and right now, sitting in this restaurant, I couldn't wait to get back to mine.

“You okay?” Aunt Stormy asked before polishing off the last bit of a shrimp taco.

My gaze was turned toward the window, looking out at a city that wasn't mine. I liked Salem—don't get me wrong. I appreciated its history and the love its people had for it, but it wasn't home. It never would be, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be capable of feeling that way about anywhere but River Canyon.

Maybe I was more like Meg than I realized.

Settled. Comfortable.

I sighed and looked back at my aunt and every bit of silver pierced through various parts of her face, glinting beneath the restaurant lights.

I forced a smile I didn't feel, swinging my eyes toward Charlie's, then back to Stormy's as I said, “Yeah … yeah, I'm fine. Just …” I rubbed a napkin between my thumb and forefinger absent-mindedly. “I don't know. It's weird, not being home.”

Aunt Stormy offered a little laugh, her eyes reflecting the sympathy she felt. “You've been gone for a day, and you're already homesick?”

I laughed at my own expense and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. I was …” I shook my head, unsure of what to say next because what the hell was I even doing here? I wasn't sure anymore. My jaw shifted, my tongue poked at my inner cheek, and my gaze fell to my glass of beer. Some local IPA I hadn’t caught the name of, but it’d sounded good. “I was hoping this trip would be more … worth my time.”

Instantly, I felt ashamed of saying such a thing to my hosts, and I lifted my gaze to theirs. “I don't mean you guys. You're fine. It's just … my … my friend—”

Charlie stopped me with a lift of his inked hand. “Noah, you don't have to apologize to us. We get it.”

Aunt Stormy rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she nodded. “I can't tell you how many times I've gotten together with an old friend, thinking it was gonna be a good time, and it was so not. People change. They turn into someone you no longer know—”

“Or you're someone completely different than who you used to be,” Charlie interjected softly, nodding knowingly.

“Yep, and you just end up spending the whole time wishing you had just sent a thinking of you text or whatever instead of wasting hours of your time with essentially a stranger.”

God, I felt horrible for lying. I felt horrible that they had no clue why I was actually spending the weekend in Salem. But that didn’t make what they were saying any less relatable, and before the web of lies could weave itself any bigger, I just nodded and said, “Yeah, exactly, so, um … I don't know. Maybe I'll cut it short or something. Go home tomorrow and surprise Meg.”

Aunt Stormy propped her chin against her hands. “You miss her, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, swinging my gaze toward the table, knowing damn well my cheeks had turned the color of a fucking tomato.

“Because you love her,” she teased, nudging my boot with the toe of hers.

“Obviously,” Charlie groaned, side-eyeing my aunt. “The kid's marrying her.”

“I know,” Aunt Stormy said, her happiness for me glinting in her eyes. “I just love seeing you happy. You know, with, um …” The smile dropped in slow motion from her face, and I could almost see the memories coming back to her one by one. The history that had been bred into me. “You could've turned out a lot different than you did—that's all.”

I filled my lungs and exhaled as I said, “It's not a lie.”

And I thought about Tommy. About his son, Benjamin, and where he might be at this very moment and how badly I wished I'd been able to meet him and apologize for everything.