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She nodded, tears clinging to her lashes. “Sunday night, I was going to tell Austin about us. I baked cookies and everything.”
“Shit, Aurora, I—”
“I think deep down, I felt you pulling away, and instead of letting fear overtake me, every insecurity I have forcing me into hiding, I decided to go after what I wanted. I decided to live instead of let life pass me by.”
“Fuck.”
She chose me.
Aurora chose me, and I… fuck.
“I could have let it break me, Noah. But I didn’t. I dusted myself off and got on with it. Because of the way you make me feel about myself, the spark you ignited inside me, that was real. It wasn’t a joke or some cruel prank. It was real, and that was enough.”
“I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“I won’t argue with that.” She gave me a coy smile. “But you’re my idiot.”
“Damn straight.” I dropped a kiss on her head, holding her tightly.
Silently vowing never to let go.
Until she said, “Do you want to talk about your dad?” Aurora peeked up at me, understanding glittering in her eyes.
“The first time he hit me, I was eight.”
“Noah, I—”
“No, let me get this out, please.” She nodded, and I inhaled a shuddering breath. “I was a disappointment from the minute I picked up a hockey stick. Dad comes from a family of investors. Men good with numbers. I suck at numbers, shortcake. He was trying to teach me about the stock market and hedge funds, and I was more interested in shooting pucks into an overturned trash can in the yard.”
“You were just a kid.”
“It didn’t matter. He wanted a carbon copy of himself, his father, and a long line of Holden men before them. And I wasn’t it. Mom tried to shelter me from his disapproval, but they constantly argued over me, and then one day, she left.
“That’s when his disappointment became anger. The first time he lost it, I came home with an F in math. He grabbed me by the arm so hard that he dislocated my shoulder.”
“Noah,” she gasped.
“It didn’t happen often, and by the time I grew up, he’d pretty much washed his hands of me until hockey started going really well for me.
“In eleventh grade, pro teams started taking note of my performance on the ice. I was so fucking relieved. Anything to get out of that house and away from him. The New York Rangers offered me a contract, but he sabotaged it. They pulled the offer, and I was so fucking angry something inside me just snapped. It’s the only time I ever hit him back.”
Shame snaked through me. Timothy Holden was a real piece of work, but the fact I’d stooped to his level didn’t sit well with me. I could still remember what it felt like when my fist, my knuckles collided with his jaw. The sickening crack. The blast of pain that streaked through my hand. The sheer anger and surprise in his eyes.
I didn’t want to be that kind of man—a man who used his fists to solve his problems.
“We barely spoke after that.” I let out a steady breath. “I already knew he wouldn’t give me a dime for college. Not if I was dead set on pursuing hockey. So my high school coach helped me get the full ride to LU, and as soon as graduation came around, I left and promised myself I would never go back.
“He’s tried a couple of times since I’ve been here to reach out. But I left my life in Buffalo behind the day I got on the Greyhound to come to Lakeshore.”
“God, Noah. That’s… horrible.”
I shrugged. “We all have shit, shortcake. But whatever he wants, I’m not interested. I meant what I said before. As far as I’m concerned, Timothy Holden is dead to me.”
“Oh, Noah.” She looked at me with unshed tears, and my brows furrowed, dread churning in my gut.
“What is it? I asked.
Then she said the last words I ever expected to hear.
