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No sounds come from behind the door, and I give her a moment. The possibility that she’s fallen asleep gains plausibility. I gently rap on the door, just enough she’ll hear it if she’s awake, but not enough to wake Rainey or Maggie. “Noah? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but can you let me know you’re okay?”
Movement and shuffling noises come from behind her bedroom door. “I-I’m o-okay,” she sniffles. A light smacking sound makes me realize she’s slid her ass down the wall, mirroring my position on the wall between us.
“I just want you to know that I’m here, okay? We don’t have to talk.”
“Ok.”
Her choppy replies tug at my heart. This isn’t the woman I’ve spent the last three months befriending and now live with. Her voice is so small. “I’m really sorry you had a bad night. Izabeth left after I got home, but she wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”
“Ok.” A high-pitched wail comes from her side of the door.
I tease my fingertips under the door to remind her I’m here, just on the other side of the wall, if she needs me. “Shhh. Shhhh. Hey, it’s okay.” She cries even harder. “Do you think you can unlock the door?”
“I do-don’t know.”
“I’ve got a bottle of water out here for you. We don’t have to talk, but I’d love to sit next to you, if you’ll let me.”
Silence refills the space between us. If Noah doesn’t want my company, I’ll have to respect that, but as her friend the last thing I want is for her to suffer alone. A metallic ting punctuates the air as she unlocks the door and makes space for me to share in her sorrow.
I push the door open gently, knowing she’s beside it. “Is it okay if I sit here?” I point to the empty spot next to her.
“Yeah.” She hangs her head in defeat.
I slide so close to her that the sides of our bodies press together at our arms and hips. She’s got her knees pulled up to her chest. I don’t have a next move planned. I’m just grateful to sit here with her. God knows I wish someone had done the same for me after Hannah’s death, but everyone around me was more interested in lightening their own grief by spewing their feelings onto me.
I reach over to place my hand on her knee, but think better of it and pull away. She’s staring straight ahead, but catches my hand with her fingers. Another cry makes its way out, prompting me to sandwich my free hand on top of hers.
“It’s okay.” Is it okay? I don’t know. “Maybe that’s the wrong thing to say,” I admit, “But I’m here.”
She leans her head over and rests it on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Here.” I fetch the bottle of water next to me and hand it to her. She slowly sips before handing the bottle back to me. I lean my head against the wall, and the hatred I feel for her brother right now terrifies me. I close my eyes and tilt my head against Noah’s. Her head and body are warm and comforting next to mine, even though I’m the one attempting to comfort her. Her darkened bedroom is lit by only the light shining from under her mostly closed bathroom door.
Noah’s breathing levels out into a steady rhythm, with the slightest airy breath every so often—she’s sleeping against me. My neck and back will be angry tomorrow, but there’s nothing that will convince me to move even an inch and risk waking her. My head remains tilted against hers and I beg my mind to focus on something besides how good it feels to have her next to me. Breathe in and out. In and out. The heaviness of losing Hannah joins Noah and I in the room, but instead of rushing my grief out the door, I allow it to join us for a while.
I return my focus to my breath. In and out. I care about Noah and what happens next for her. In and out. What lengths are normal to go to for a friend you didn’t even know existed before August? In and out. The emptiness in my heart bottoms out.Hannah . . . What am I supposed to do here? What would you want me to do?
Chapter 25
Logan
Myeyesflyopenwhen I’m startled awake by something shifting on my chest. It’s dark, and I’m freezing. I’m not sure where I am until last night comes flooding back when I roll over and see Noah on the floor next to me, her dark hair splayed out around her head, and one arm covering her face.
I pull my cell phone from my back pocket to check the time. It’s just after three in the morning. What time did I fall asleep? Did we really doze off sitting against the wall? How did we end up flat on the floor? My upper back and shoulders are tight, and I groan when I roll to return my back against the floor. The sound causes Noah to stir.
She yawns and stretches the arm off her face, blinking her eyes several times. Her body fights to return to sleep, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“Noah.” I reach over and tap her shoulder. “Get up and get in your bed.”
“Mhmmrrph,” she replies incoherently.
“Hey.” I tap her again. “Get up. You take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the rug.”
My words finally register, and she slowly rises and shuffles to find her bed.
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” she offers. The thought of climbing into bed next to her and sleeping—just sleeping—is tempting, especially with my muscles already bitching. But she’s already falling back to sleep, and it’s not a good idea. Even if it were, I can’t let her wake up next to me in a few hours and not remember inviting me into her bed.
Knowing I’ll pay a steep price, I make my way to her bed to retrieve a spare blanket and pillow from the side she’s not using. I craft a spot next to her on her fluffy white rug to fall back asleep, and set my phone’s alarm to vibrate at 6:30. The girls can’t know we fell asleep together. I know it was innocent, and Noah knows nothing happened, but I won’t confuse my daughter. God knows I don’t need her blabbering about it to Claire—one more thing for me to explain. I turn away from Noah’s bed and curl up. I’m sore, but happy to be here if she wakes up and needs someone.
