Page 72 of First Comes Love


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Chapter 20

Noah

IF I EVER had a purpose in life, it’s to make Lauren happy. Making her happy makes me happy. I never believed in true love before, mostly because the one person I truly loved was someone I thought I could never have. But now that she’s here in my arms—literally most of the time—I know it to be true.

She’s still upset from yesterday, when she got her acceptance letter. I’ll admit it’s a weird situation. Getting into Purdue University’s vet program is a huge accomplishment. We should be celebrating right now, and she should be fucking proud of herself.

But she’s right: it’s going to be damn hard to do that and have a baby. We went over the schedule of classes, and that shit is intense. Though if anyone can do it, it’s Lauren. I don’t want her to give up on her dream of being a vet.

It was one of the first things she ever said to me.

We will make it work. I look around my office in the back of the studio. I like this place, love the location … but it’s not necessary. Icouldmove. Easily. If not leaving Ella—and hopefully me—is Lauren’s main concern, she doesn’t need to worry.

We’ll eventually end up back here. She told me her boss said she’d hire her in a heartbeat to be part of the practice, and I know Lauren wants to be near her family. Yeah, those four years she’s in school will be rough, but she can do it.Wecan do it.

She said she doesn’t want to think about it too much this weekend. We have the shower, after all.

I turn off my computer and pack up my camera. It’s Friday night and Lauren and I are going out to dinner. I plan to spend tomorrow packing up some stuff to move into Lauren’s house while she hangs out with her friend Rachel.

Reservations for dinner made, I get up and text Lauren to let her know I’m leaving. She’ll be out of work soon too. I lock up the studio, leaving through the back. A man gets out of a black pickup that’s parked next to my motorcycle. His eyes fall on me and my first instinct is to ignore him, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. I just want to get home to Lauren.

I can still feel his stare after a few paces, so I cast my gaze up. My eyes meet his and a shock of familiarity goes through me. It takes a second, but I recognize him as soon as he says my name.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I spit out, staring down my father.

He smiles, lines forming around his mouth. I freeze, mind racing with how to react. I’ve grown up to look like him, and it pisses me off. There is gray peppering his dark hair, and there’s a fucking wedding band on his left hand. Of course the bastard got remarried. Probably had a few kids too, completely forgetting about his firstborn.

“I guess I deserve that greeting.” He steps closer. “It’s been a while, Noah. Wow, you’ve grown.” He looks me up and down, nostalgia on his face.

I recoil. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I repeat.

“Heather—I mean your mother—called. She told me the happy news that I’m going to be a grandfather. Congrats, son.”

“I’m not your fucking son,” I retort, anger rising with each beat of my heart. My mom fucking called this asshole? After I specifically said I didn’t want him to know about Ella.

“Noah,” he says, frowning. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“How the hell would you know?” I want to punch him.Lauren, think of Lauren. I clench my fists and keep walking. “Do me a favor and never talk to me again.” I take a step toward my bike.

My father reaches out, hand landing on my shoulder. “Noah, come on now—”

“I have things to do.”

“This isn’t just about you anymore.”

I stop, whirling around. “It’s certainly not about you.”

“And what if your daughter wants to know her grandfather?”

I shrug. “I’ll tell her he’s dead. Because you are dead to me. You died when you left Mom and I for broke. You died when you got arrested for a DUI and I had to spend my eighth birthday at the police station. Get it? You dug your grave. Now leave me alone.”

He lets his arm fall. “You’re going to regret this one day.”

“Yep, go ahead with the threats. Just like old times. Might as well get drunk and hit Mom too.”

Without another word, I get onto my bike, rev the engine, and speed away. I’m seething with anger, nearly shaking I’m so fucking pissed. Just seeing Gerald’s face brings it all back: the disappointment, the hurt. Thinking everything was my fault, believing the lies he told me, hearing him say I was a burden and didn’t care.

It was so long ago, and yet it feels like that shit just happened. It freaks me out that parents can fuck up their kids’ lives years after they move out. What if I do the same?

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