Chapter 25

twenty-five

Noah – One Month Later

I laugh as Diego bangs on the drums with Cameron, giggling and laughing away.

The boys obsessed with them, much to Barnett’s dismay.

I wonder if Rose would be pissed if I bought some for the house in Kingstonville for him….

I grin at the thought.

“I haven’t seen you this happy since you saw Rose walk across the stage at graduation,” Nick says from beside me, and I nod.

“Fuck, I was so scared that day.” I smile at the memory. “She promised to be there—hell, she was the reason why I was walking that day, but when I couldn’t see her, I thought ‘this is it, this is the end of our relationship’.” Nick snorts, and I grin, admitting, “I knew then and there that I couldn’t go day by day not seeing her, that I wouldn’t manage the distance between us, even an hour away from town. But then there she was, shocking the shit outta me, and making me proud, all in one go.”

“It was a good day, son,” he rasps, and I nod, keeping my eyes on Diego.

I missed a whole fucking year of his life, and it’s all my fault….

We stand there, watching Diego for a few minutes, and I’m trying to push my guilt to the side just as Nick speaks again.

“You didn’t hesitate….” I look at him and frown, but he just smiles. “You didn’t even need Rose to confirm he was your son, and you didn’t hesitate.”

I half smile and look back at Diego as he claps at Cam, who’s trying to show him how to make a beat. I admit, “I saw this in my future back then. When I first met Rose, she mouthed off to me; I was a bitter, angry kid, yet I saw our future. I saw her having my kids and wearing my ring on her finger, while we toured after making it big. When I saw him in her arms, the pull I had to him, the resemblance…it was enough to knock me off my feet. That pull was consuming me. I wasn’t scared because I was suddenly a father, I was scared because I thought she’d never forgive me for cutting her out of my life the way I did. I was terrified he’d hate me for it.”

Nick grips my shoulder and rasps, “I’m proud of you, Noah.”

I give him a half smile before returning my attention to Diego, and whisper, “Thanks, Dad.”

He squeezes my shoulder before paying attention to Diego again as well. I laugh as Diego accidentally hits Cameron on the head with the stick while Barnett is recording them.

“How are you both doing?” Nick eventually asks, most likely fishing at Mom’s behest.

I snort. “Real subtle, Dad.”

He shrugs. “I can’t be subtle with your mother on my case. We see you happy, but we’re also concerned. It’s been over a month since you gave her the ring, a month since she started to wear your original one on her right hand. Your mom’s worried and, to be honest, so am I, or are you forgetting I was the one who pulled you back from the brink of alcohol poisoning?”

Nope, I definitely have not forgotten that. I had my stomach pumped after he found me laying in my own vomit.

Rose spent an hour crying when I told her how bad I had gotten without her. Now, I barely drink, and if I do, normally it’s half a bottle of beer with the boys before I switch to water.

I sigh and move toward the black couch on the back wall of the recording studio. I take a seat. Nick, my dad, the man who I look up to, sits next to me, looking at me with concern.

“Some days I think we’re good, great even….”

He ponders, “But?”

I groan. “She’s not letting me in fully, and no, I don’t mean with her body.”

“She won’t let you in her heart?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, she won’t. If I piss her off, instead of giving me hell like she used to, she’ll swallow her anger down, and walk away. It’s like she’s not willing to fight. I mean, her words are saying one thing, and her actions with the ring and shit are saying the same thing, but the rest of her actions, her body language, is basically saying she’ll never forgive me for leaving.” I run a hand through my hair and look at my son who has the biggest smile on his face. I whisper, “I’m doing everything I can, Dad, but I’m running outta ideas. I need her to shout at me, fight me, and show me her passion for us. I’m at her apartment every night because she refuses to stay at the condo. If I need to go to LA for work, she refuses to come with me, so I end up doing a FaceTime call. I just?—”

I cut my words off and look down.

My dad sighs and squeezes my shoulder. "You want her to fight for you like you're fighting for her….”

I nod, leaning my elbows on my knees, linking my fingers together as I sit forward. “I love her so fucking much, and that’s something that hasn’t changed over the years. I mean, if anything, the feelings have only gotten stronger.”

Dad butts in again, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

I nod. “Exactly. But for us to work, she must also want to fight. I know I hurt her, and I know I should have faced my fears instead of allowing myself to believe that photo was real, knowing it wasn’t, I know I never should have cut her out of my life like that, and I’m being punished for it, believe me, I fucking am. I missed her whole pregnancy and the first year of my son’s life.

“The night feedings, the first smiles and crawls, rolling over, even his first word, so believe me, I am being punished, but it's like she’s still punishing me. She loves me—I know this— she knows this, but to her, it’s not enough, and I get it. There is no relationship without trust, and she lost hers in me where her heart is concerned, but how am I supposed to earn that back if she’s not willing to let me try?”

Frustration builds inside, and the urge to grab a cigarette is strong.

I haven’t touched one since my birthday, but right now, I really fucking want one.

“It’s just going to take time, son,” Dad tries, and I groan.

“Time….” I shake my head sadly. “Two years without her, Dad. Isn’t that enough time?”

Shaking my head again, I lean over and grab my jacket off the back of the couch, going to the inside pocket where I hide my smokes, deciding to say, “fuck it.”

I’ll just use mouthwash to hide the smell.

I frown when the pocket comes up empty and pull my jacket over to me, looking in each pocket.

What the fuck….

“Yo Barn, did you take my smokes?” I call out, knowing he has one once in a while.

He frowns. “Nah, not lately. Besides, didn’t you stay at Rose’s last night?”

Yeah, on the couch , I think bitterly before my eyes widen and my mouth parts in shock.

Barnett and Cameron both laugh at my reaction while Dad snorts.

“She’s not fighting, huh, Noah?”

I blink and look at him, and a slow smile stretches across my face, and he laughs. “She’s fighting, son; you just don’t see it because she’s doing it on her terms for herself. Taking your smokes is one thing, the question is, what else has she done over the past month to fight for your relationship that you don’t know about?”

That is a really good fucking question….

Dad’s words ring in my ear a few hours later as I walk into Rose’s apartment with Diego in my arms.

Fuck, I hate this place. I asked her to move to the condo last week, but she fucking refused. She barely has anything here for herself, for fuck’s sake, and yet she won’t let me help her.

Shaking my head, I kiss Diego’s head before placing him down in front of his toys near the window, and look around the room, my dad’s words still in my head.

What else has she done to help herself fight for us?

My eyes go toward the small TV on the bookshelf before they lock on several new photos in new frames. Some of Diego and me, but others, damn….

There’s one of me looking at the lake, leaning against the bike she bought me, my arms crossed over my chest, and then another of her and me near the tree we’ve dubbed ours. I’m leaning against it, her back is to my front, and we’re both smiling, but it’s the one of our initials carved into the tree in a photo frame that’s the icing on the cake for me. I didn’t even see her carve it.

Fuck….

I scan the room again and notice my guitar leaning against the wall, a heart painted just above it. I walk into the small kitchen and see my favorite coffee, including my mug from high school.

Fuck, I was wondering where that thing went….

I take a deep breath. Fuck, Dad was right. She’s fighting for us by testing me to see if I’d be alright staying here.

Trying to swallow past the lump in my throat, I pick up Diego. "Come on, buddy. It's time for a shower, and then bed.”

He giggles, gripping my chain, and I walk him to the bathroom, hoping Rose will be home soon so we can hash shit out.

“Seriously, Noah, you canceled my courses!” Rose shouts as she walks through the front door an hour later.

I look up from her laptop and all her pictures and videos of us.

She’s in her waitress uniform, her hair cascading down her back, looking beautiful.

I shrug, shutting the laptop, and placing it on the edge of the couch.

I reply, “It’s a good thing our son sleeps through a lot, Rose, considering he’s only been asleep for forty minutes, and you stole my smokes, so we’ll call it even.”

She growls, throwing her bag on the floor, and snaps, “They are cancer sticks, and you know it, and I refuse to lose you, so no, we’re not even. This is my career we’re talking about!”

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth to stop my smile.

Yeah, Dad was right; she’s fighting for us without me realizing.

Her eyes take in my bare chest as I stand, and she clears her throat and asks, “Where is your shirt?”

This time, I do grin, and I admit, “Got soaked; our son still doesn’t like baths. It’s hanging in the bathroom. I just couldn’t be bothered to get a clean one.” I tilt my head and ask, “Did you know the duffel I leave here is empty, and all my clothes are hanging up in your closet?” Her eyes come back to mine as she takes a step back, and I grin wider. “And my toothbrush and body wash are in your bathroom?”

After Diego fell asleep, I looked around some more, and like I said, Dad was right.

She’s been slowly moving me in this past month. The one thing I can’t understand, though, is me sleeping on the fucking couch.

I tilt my head at her as I cage her in against the door, and ask, “Why have you made me sleep on the couch if you’ve been moving me in?”

Rose narrows those gorgeous dark green eyes of hers and snaps, “Because I’m sleeping on a mattress on the floor, Noah, the couch is more comfortable for you.” She shoves me but growls loudly when I don’t move. “And don’t change the fucking subject.”

Fucking finally….

I grin wide, but that only annoys her more as she shouts, “I’ve been working on the degree for two years, Noah! I was nearly done!”

I slam my lips down on hers, hoping to fucking God she hasn’t woken Diego.

She growls against my mouth, then bites my lower lip, making me laugh and pull back.

She glares at me, but I smile and cup her jaw, rasping, “All your credits are being transferred to your animal behavior course at Kingston University.”

Her mouth parts in shock, and I wait, ready for the fight she’s about to lose.