Page 87 of Relapse

I tried to call but your phone was off. Text me or something.

It was stupid to try and do that. I went back into my phone and deleted the record of the outgoing call. I didn’t want Jace to know. I just wanted to hear Noah’s voice.

I knew by the third message, he was done. He wasn’t going to talk to me anymore. He wanted me to grovel. To tell him that I was sorry for what I had done. News flash—I wasn’t. Not even close. I had no remorse for David Hansen, who, by what the news had reported, was making a stellar recovery.

How fucking ironic was that?

I texted him again, angrily this time.

I am not apologizing.

Maybe it was good that Noah wasn’t responding to me. Maybe I should say, “Fuck it” and be done. But I couldn’t stop. I wanted him more than the air I breathed. He needed to understand why I went against his wishes. Why I stabbed David. He’d hear me out.

Meet me at Shorty’s. We will forget about this whole thing, okay?

Every text lit up underneath my words, changing the color of the little check mark, showing he read them. He could see what I was sending him, and still, he didn’t give a shit to answer me.

Stop ignoring me. I know you are reading these.

Just fucking answer me.

The drive home from the photo shoot was quiet. My feelings were surfacing in ways that I never expected them to. Noah had broken me. All of my walls. All of my defenses. And I just wanted to be his. I wanted him to want me back.

When I got home, I popped open a congratulatory champagne bottle left by my manager to keep my hands busy, and remind myself not to allow my emotions to continue to take over. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t cry.

But I couldn’t stop texting him. The champagne might have made it worse.

I wish you were here. I need you now. Call me.

Please, Raven. How long will you keep this up?

If he had answered, I would have told him.

For fuck’s sake. I give.

I’m sorry.

I would have told him that I loved him.

NOAH

I felt…lighter.

Time with Delane had a way of settling things, like when I was around her, the noise in my head finally knew when to quiet down. I didn’t have to try so hard around her. Just being there, talking, sitting in the same space, was enough.

Part of me believed that she was my cure. She was the purity and innocence amongst my wretched existence. I envied her ability to see the world in such a positive way, even after the loss of her parents.

She smiled so easily. Not in a forced way, not like she was pretending everything was fine, but as if she’d decided it was still worth it anyway. I didn’t know how she managed that after everything she’d been through, but when I was around her, part of me fought to try and do the same. If she could persevere, I should be able to also.

Her strength gave me hope.

And hope wasn’t something I had until I met her. I never thought I was capable of it.

I found myself watching her sometimes, trying to figure it out. Attempting to understand just how she was able to bring these feelings forth in me.

I never did.

But it made something in me loosen, just a little. To the point where the weights of the world didn’t seem as heavy.