Chapter Twenty-Two
Noah
I’M GOING TO make things work. I can’t lose Lauren. The thought of not having her next to me in the morning takes my breath away and replaces my heart with a cold, empty ball of ice. Life without Lauren isn’t living. It’s surviving, going day by day because I have to, not because I want to.
And life without Lauren means life without my daughter. Not on a daily basis, that is. I want us, all three of us, to be together for the rest of our lives, happy and together. My heart broke when she told me to leave, shattering into a million pieces when I walked out the door. I don’t want to think I’ll never walk in again.
But I don’t think I will.
Not as I did before.
She’s mad now. Tired, hormonal. Lauren is level-headed. Lauren is kind. Will she forgive me?
If I tell her the truth, she’ll see everything in a different light. But open up about my asshole father … I’ve never said anything to anyone before. Not even Colin knows about the shit my dad put me through.
Oh, fuck. Colin.
I didn’t just lose the love of my life. I lost my best friend. Because Colin won’t forgive me for hurting his sister, and ultimately his niece. My mind flashes to the future, to holidays and birthdays. Will we have to do everything separately like a divorced couple?
Stop. Lauren could still forgive me. But why should she? I’ll probably fuck up again. I don’t know how to be a dad. Maybe Ella is better off without me too. It hurts, thinking I won’t be in her life, but if it’s for the best, then that’s what I want.
*
It’s been three days since I last saw Lauren, and I’m terrified that might have been the last. I know I’ll see her again, as in literally see her, but that’s not the same. I stay at the studio late that Wednesday night, later than I need to. Going home to my apartment by myself isn’t something I want to do. I stayed late at the studio Monday and Tuesday too, trying to keep busy.
I called Lauren Monday, thinking she’d cool off and we’d make up after a day. But she didn’t answer. I texted her that night and didn’t get a reply. Tuesday came and passed with nothing, and today I’ve stared at my phone more than I looked at the photos I’m supposed to be editing. I’m broken without her, and I don’t know how to make things right.
I die a little more each day that passes and I haven’t heard from her.
Lauren has no obligation to be with me, to keep me informed. But she’d tell me if something was wrong with her or with Ella. Maybe? My fist comes down hard on the desk. Fuck. I don’t know.
And Ella? She’s better off without me, because I’ll probably fuck up being a dad too. My heart hurts and I want to go to The Roadhouse tonight and drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey.
I won’t, because that’s exactly what started this mess. My head drops and I’m suddenly so ashamed, so incredibly pissed at myself.
I’ve become my father.
The asshole who ran to the bar whenever shit hit the fan. Who spent more time on a barstool than at the dinner table with his family. He didn’t know how to be a father because he never tried. He never put effort into our relationship, didn’t give a shit about me.
I was so fucking terrified of becoming him, I pushed Lauren away. And I don’t blame her. Really, I’m glad she did. Because what I did was wrong. What I did will never happen again. I will not be my father. I will not let Lauren down. I will not let Ella grow up without her daddy.
I sit up and turn off my computer, chair scooting loudly as I stand. I’ve been in love with Lauren since the day we met, and there is no moving on from there. She’s been in my heart for years, and I don’t see her leaving anytime soon. Or ever. How can you move on when you can’t let go?
I will do whatever it takes to win her back.
*
I sit back on the couch only to get up again, too pissed and too restless to stay in one place. I’m mad at myself. I fucked things up. I lost the love of my life, and consequently lost being in my daughter’s life the way I want to. I grab my leather jacket and the keys to my bike and storm out the door.
I peel out of the parking lot, feeling the anger melt off me as the wind and rain hits my face. The rain is coming down in sheets, but I ignore it. It’s almost like I deserve it for messing everything up.
On autopilot, I head toward The Roadhouse. Fuck. I can’t go back to having that be my escape. I’m not going to be the dad that runs to the bar the minute shit hits the fan. I’m not going to be like my father.
I twist the throttle, going a good thirty over the speed limit. Lightning flashes above me and I’m getting pissed all over again. I fucking blew it, and I’ve been so focused on how awful I feel, I didn’t even think about Lauren and how hard this must be for her too. I grit my teeth, not knowing how else to calm the fuck down. It hits me as I speed through a red light.
Lauren.
She’s all I need. I miss her, and right now I need her. I’ve never told anyone about my asshole father, never let on how much it hurt me when he walked out. That I’m terrified I’ll be a shitty dad like he was because it’s in my blood. Because I don’t know what a father is supposed to do.
The more I think about it, the more enraged I become. Not just at the man who was supposed to be a dad, but at my mother. She shut me out when he left us. Buried herself in work. Left me to raise myself. I convinced the world—and myself most of the time—that it didn’t bother me, that the nights at home alone, heating up a shitty dinner in the microwave, and eating by myself at the empty kitchen table were fine.
My mind flashes to Lauren, exhausted after work, sitting next to a highchair, feeding Ella. They’re alone.
I’m not leaving them.
I’m not abandoning my daughter.
I’m never going to hurt Lauren again.
The rain comes down harder, making it difficult to see. But I don’t stop. I let out a breath, thinking of Lauren.
Her smile.
Her lips.
The way she sees the good in everything.
Her smooth legs, wrapping around me.
How good it feels when she’s holding me.
Her.
I let off the throttle, and the bike loses speed. My mind is on Lauren as I coast down, and I don’t notice it until it’s too late. Thank the fucking Lord I’m not going fast anymore. My tires slip on loose gravel. Time stops.
Everything happens in slow motion, yet passes too quickly for me to react.
I’m falling, body sideways just inches from the road. I hit the road. I’m skidding along, skin tearing, clothing ripping. I can’t stop. Can’t move. Can’t do anything but wait until it’s over and think of her.
Her smile. Her lips. Her kiss.
My vision starts to go black and pain takes over, deep inside my head. And I can’t help but think I will never feel those things again.