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“But…why?”
He cocked his head. “Is a window open? I smell rain.”
“Noah, I was scared to death. I didn’t know where you were or what happened to you. Are you telling me you just went for a joyride? Do not tell me that you went out looking for a rush. Another high.”
His silence spoke volumes.
Anger poured into me as if from a pitcher. “Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not going to listen to you say you’re flying high off a fight with a couple of muggers. God, don’t tell me that or I’ll be sick.”
Noah’s brows knit in confusion. “How did you know I got mugged?”
“The police officers who dropped you off were kind enough to inform me. Unlike you, who didn’t tell meanything.”
Remorse flashed over his face. “I had to get out. I had to try. I was suffocating and I needed tofeelsomething besides anger.”
That hurt. More than it should have. My heart started to crack. Small fissures that I had promised myself I’d never allow to form again, were forming. Was this my penance, to be suffered again and again, each time I let myself care for someone?
“You needed to feel something?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded. “Well, too bad you aren’t me. Because apparently, I feel enough for the both of us.”
I started for the door, but Noah reached for me. “Charlotte, wait.” His hand snagged my sodden sweater. “What…?” He reached his other hand, grasped me, pulled me close, his face incredulous. He felt my shoulders and then my hair that was plastered to my cheeks. “I thought you were out with your friends. Were you…looking for me?”
“Of course I was!” I thrust away from him. “You didn’t even think of that, did you? You don’t care whether or not you make other people worried. Like your parents and friends. Like Lucien. God, poor Lucien…”
“Charlotte,” Noah’s voice was heavy. “Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself in that place where you’ll get hurt. Don’t think I’m just like everyone else, because I’m not.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “And I’m glad. I—”
“No!” he cried. “Don’t beglad. Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t want me any other way or that my blindness has made me who I am. I want me another way. I want to be what I was.”
“You have no idea, do you?” I retorted. “None whatsoever. You’re so wrapped up in what’s happened to you that you don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks or feels.You are blind.You are not what you were. But you are alive. You haveno ideahow much worse it could be.”
“Worse?” he thundered back. “You mean paralyzed or a vegetable? Because I’ve heard all that shit before, remember? A thousand times.”
“And yet not one word seems to have gotten through to you,” I spat, tears watering my voice. “I felt bad that no one had let you mourn your loss. But you’ve had time now, and you still don’t get it. They talked about being lucky, but they weren’t just talking about you. They were talking about themselves. The ones who care about you.Theyare the lucky ones. Lucien, your parents, yoursister… They are lucky that they didn’t have to makefinal arrangementsor place horrible phone calls and listen to the people on the other end fall apart. They didn’t have to pick out what to wear to yourfuneralor plan what to say in front of a room full of crying people when the only thing they want to say isI wish we weren’t all standing here doing this right now.”
My sobs were coming hard now, hot tears on my cheeks where the rain had been cool. I endeavored to calm down because the full impact of my fear for him—the enormity of my feelings—was trying to drown me.
“Charlotte…”
“What I’m trying to say, Noah, is that you can’t do that again. Not ever. Not while I’m here. I can’t take it. I can’t…”
The tears broke over me again and I felt his arms go around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against my damp hair. “I did it for you. For us. I know that sounds like madness, but I had to get out, to throw myself off that cliff into the black and prove that it wouldn’t destroy me.”
“But it could have. It could have been so much worse,” I whispered, clinging to him, and then his words hit me, wrapped around me like a warm blanket to stop my shivering. I looked up. “You did it for…us? What does that mean?”
“Charlotte, you’re soaking wet…”
“Tell me.”
He cupped my cheeks in his hands, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “It means I’m trying to be what you need. To not be a coward. To live…the way I am now.” He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes finding mine, holding my gaze for a few brief seconds. I knew he saw nothing, my heart ached to see him looking at me, even for just a moment. “You deserve more than what’s left of me.”
I shook my head. “There’s so much…”
“Not yet, but I’m trying. I’m so sorry I hurt you tonight. Or ever. You’re the light in my darkness, Charlotte. You are…”
He kissed me then, his lips warm on my cold skin. A quick touch and then retreat, a short inhalation, and then his mouth descended again, covering mine and then entering with a delicious sweep of his tongue.
