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A few seconds. A missed opportunity. And we both got a lifetime of misery because of it.
Yet despite everything, there is no certainty that we would have lasted. Both because of our families, and the fact that we were both far too young to undertake that type of commitment.
Ultimately, I know the me back then wouldn't have been able to protect her properly and cherish her as she deserves.
Wait a minute…
I frown as I realize the direction of my thoughts and the fact that I'm so quick to overlookeverythingwrong with Noelle or that she's been lying to me from the beginning.
What the fuck is wrong withme?
I hear that she's been in love with me since she was fifteen and all I can think of is what our lives would have looked like had we run away all those years ago?
Just like that, I'm ignoring all the red flags and looking at it from a far too romanticized perspective.
"I don't know how you managed, but with just a few online conversations, you won her loyalty forever. As far as I know, everything she's ever done has been for you," Cisco continues, interrupting my thoughts.
"It wasn't just a few conversations," I mutter under my breath in annoyance, a need to defend what we had rising inside of me.
It had been a true relationship. Maybe we'd never met face to face at that point, but she knew me better than anyone else in my life. Just like I knew her.
Our friendship was a lifeline. For me, and for her too. We found refuge in each other despite everything and we clung to that small connection.
She was my one tether to the world, and I was hers.
We'd both had our struggles in our day to day life but in each other we'd found the freedom of being ourselves without being judged for it—on the contrary, we'd appreciated one another as we were.
Like a flash, all our interactions appear before me, and I place new meaning to old conversations. More than anything, I realize how terrified she'd been of her fate but she'd tried to mask it.
One time, in particular, we were discussing a movie and she'd just burst into tears. It had been the first time I'd heard her like that. Retrospectively, the movie had been about a girl sold into slavery, which might have triggered her own fears as her wedding was slowly approaching.
Other little instances come to mind—how she'd theorize about free will, or about women's rights and the fact that the world might have advanced, but women were still, and would always be, seen as less. The latter had been a recurrent topic of conversation between the two of us, as we'd debate over the different factors inhibiting equal opportunity between genders.
Looking back, I can see it for what it was.
She felt trapped. The only way she could have some control over her situation had been by attempting to understand it, dissect it, and theorize over it.
Despite our different circumstances, we'd been more alike than I'd ever imagined.
We'd both been…adrift. Alone. Unable to fit in.
Empty.
Thinking about all her suffering makes my heart clench. More so given the fact that for all my shitty past, I'd had parents who loved me. I may have shut everyone out after what happened with Michele, but my mother had stayed by my side throughout. I may have seemed broken to everyone else, but her love had never been…less.
Noelle hadn't even had that.
I don't doubt for one moment that what Cisco is saying about their mother is true. It's not the first time I've heard about the rift in the family and Noelle's conflict with Elena DeVille. Yet now, it makes sense why. Noelle hadn't been the child her mother had wished for. The more Elena tried to mold Noelle into the perfect child, the more Noelle fought back, resulting in an all-out war.
All her life she's been unwanted. Unseen. Unappreciated.
Until…me.
Until I saw her just as she saw me.
"Is that why you warned me about her?" I ask sharply.
Maybe Cisco didn't intend for his words to affect me this way, but instead of making me see Noelle in a bad light, I can't help but feel for her and the girl she'd been—the lonely child and even lonelier teenager. For the fact that I'm starting to read between the lines of our past conversations and see the extent of her solitude—of her desire to have someone be there for her.
