Page 179 of Relapse

“Of course I did,” I said, closing the door behind me. “I had to.”

He moved toward me, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez, Delane, do you want to change? You’re clothes—”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. The thought of taking off my clothes in front of Noah was not what I needed to imagine right now, despite how badly I wanted to be dry. I had to stay focused. I came for a reason.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He paused. “It’s so good to see you.”

I swallowed nervously. “You too. You look good, Noah.”

Thunder rolled outside, shaking the windows, and he snapped his fingers like the sound was a reminder to him.

“Shoot, let me at least get you a towel.” He said, rounding the corner, disappearing from my view.

I stepped further into the living room. Rain hammered against the glass windows, the massive sheets of water created a barrier that surrounded the whole building. Nothing could be seen past it. I stayed where I was, arms wrapped loosely around myself, waiting for Noah to return. The last thing I wanted was to ruin his couch or any more of this expensive place with my soaked clothes.

He was back shortly, two towels in hand. He laid one across the couch for me to sit, and brought the other one up to me, placing it around my shoulders. His hands stayed on me, tugging the towel close from either side, wrapping me.

I stared at him, his dark eyes penetrating right through mine. He cracked a grin and gave me a little wink. Just like he used to.

I wished I could hate him. I couldn’t.

“Noah, I haven’t slept right in a month. I keep seeing you with him.”

Noah’s face fell and I knew he didn’t expect me to go there so quickly. Or maybe at all. But I couldn’t help it. This information had been eating at me for months, and I promised myself I would wait. I would see him through the fire. I would make sure he was okay.

And then I’d start being honest.

Because the truth was, I wanted him.

I wanted Noah more than anything.

And if I was going to survive this, I needed to get everything out on the table. There could be no more secrets between us. I couldn’t live like that.

I clutched myself a little tighter, but I continued.

“I know I have no right, I know we weren’t—I know that we never labeled what we were. But it felt real to me.” My lip quivered. “It felt like everything to me. Even before we had sex.”

Noah’s grip on me tightened and he started shaking his head. “Delane, no—”

“Don’t.” I held up my hand, my eyes stinging. “Let me finish, please. I feel like I was just convenient to you. I know now that you were high or drunk every time we—” I stopped, swallowing hard.

Noah went still. The rain lashed against the glass behind him.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you either,” the words came out as a whisper.

I took a deep breath. Here we go.

“You were my first,” I said. The words carried weight. There would be no taking them back now. “I never told you. I thought it would scare you away. But you were my first, Noah. Even before that, though, I knew there were things you weren’t sharing with me. At times, you’d be so gone. Not physically, but—in your head. Maybe you always had been and I was just too blind to see it.”

He was staring at me like I’d struck him.

“I’m proud of you,” I whispered. “Thirty days. I know it must have been hard. And I’m so fucking proud of you, even though I want to hate you for being with him. I can’t stop asking myself why he was the one you chose after what happened—”

I was crying now, and Noah pulled me into his chest, cradling me with such a force I couldn’t pull away.

“There are no words,” Noah began, his voice rough. “To apologize for what I’ve done. I’ve lied to everyone. I lied to myself daily. I’ve lied to Damien, to you, to Alex, to Silas—and I can’t seem to stop. It’s only been about thirty days of sobriety, and I’m looking back on my life seeing exactly what a fucking coward I’ve been. How terrible I’ve treated others. The mistakes. The cruelty. I’m trying to unlearn it, I really am, but I’m a work in progress, and everyone who has ever gotten close to me, got hurt.”

His hand came up, tentative, and brushed a wet strand of hair from my cheek. “I tried to warn you.”