Chapter 30

PRESENT DAY

 

At around three in the afternoon, my ears perk up when I hear a key turning in the lock to the front door, but it turns out it’s only Gwen and my father. They come in looking flushed and happy. Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled my father is in love, even if it sometimes makes me feel that the memory of my mother is being pushed into the background. It also makes me long for what he has. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been that hopelessly in love.

Well, that’s not true. I can remember.

“How’s my girl enjoying her week in the country?” Dad asks Lily, who is drawing at the kitchen table with my extra sketch pad. I offered her the coloring book, but she insisted that she wanted to be creative again like Noah told her to be. He’s making quite the impression on both of us.

“Okay, Grandpa,” Lily says.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks.

Lily’s eyes widen and she puts down her green crayon. “Mommy and I went for a walk earlier and guess what happened? I got a huge cut on my knee.” She shows him her bandaged knee. “And Noah gave me aids.”

“What?” Dad coughs.

“First aid, Dad.” I roll my eyes. “He gave her first aid.”

“Oh.” He smiles awkwardly. “Well, how about we go out again? You can’t get tired of all this fresh air, can you?”

Lily looks like she might refuse. I’m hoping she does, because if Lily and Dad leave, then I’ll be alone here with Gwen. Gwen, whose son I dumped right after he’d lost his legs. Gwen, who has been taking jabs at me all week. She certainly hasn’t made it a secret I’m not her favorite person.

But of course, Lily agrees to go out with my father on the condition that they’re “very, very careful,” whatever that means. I don’t even have a minute to prepare a graceful exit before the two of them are gone.

And now Gwen and I are alone.

Gwen is sitting on the sofa, peering at me over the edge of her paperback novel, her blue eyes unreadable. She’s got to hate me—she’d have every right. I can’t believe this woman is going to be my stepmother. That’s not going to be awkward at all. Best possible scenario: I run out of the room screaming, “You’ll never be my real mother!”

“What are you reading, Bailey?” Gwen asks me as she sets her own book down on her lap.

“Nothing special,” I mumble, dog-earing a page in my book. It’s a one of those beach reads about the problems of people with so much more money than I’ll ever have. I’d rather be sketching. Or really, be anywhere but here. Why didn’t I go with Lily and my father on their walk? So what if they didn’t invite me?

Gwen eyes me across the room, her brow creased. My stomach flip-flops. Now that we’re alone together, she can say whatever she wants to me without any witnesses. She can tell me what a horrible person I am. She can say all the things she’s been thinking to herself for the last decade.

“So,” Gwen finally says. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “Did you and Noah end up kissing last night?”

I nearly choke. That was not what I expected her to say. “Ex… excuse me?”

The stern expression is gone. A smile plays on her lips that actually reminds me a lot of Noah. “You think I haven’t seen how the two of you have been looking at each other the last few days?”

Based on how hot my cheeks feel, they must be crimson. “I don’t know what you mean,” I mumble.

“Come on, Bailey,” she says. “I’m not blind.”

I toy with one of the pages of my book. “You… you know what happened between us all those years ago. I mean, you of all people…”

The lines deepen on Gwen’s face. “Yes, I know. That was… hard for him.” She sits down next to me on the couch. “He cried that day. He’s not a crier… he didn’t cry when the doctor first broke the news to him over what happened to his legs. In fact, the day you left was the only time I’ve seen him cry in the last twenty years.”

Wow. Way to make me feel horrible all over again.

“But he didn’t see what had been going on all along,” Gwen says. “You were there for him during those first few difficult months, and I know how hard that was for you. You turned green every time you walked into the hospital. And you were just a kid back then. Of course you were panicked and scared.”

I lower my eyes. “I broke up with him right after the surgery though.”

“Well, I won’t lie and say that didn’t do a number on his head. He was convinced he’d be alone forever. Honestly, we both really hated you for a while.” She shakes her head. “But that was silly because… well, you know Noah. Women love him. Legs or no legs.”

“That’s not what he told me last night.”

Gwen sighs. “Oh, what sob story was he feeding you? It isn’t true. At all. Let me tell you, Bailey, a few months ago, he broke up with a woman he’d been seeing for two years. The only bad thing he could say about her was, ‘I didn’t like her as much as I liked Bailey.’ He’s got this idea in his head of the perfect relationship and it all comes from what he had with you. I got so frustrated with him because he still thought about you so much, even though…”

I don’t know what to say, partially because I feel the same way. I married Theo because he was the complete opposite of Noah, but I never felt half as strongly for him. Noah was my great love. And I blew it.

Gwen pats my leg. “Anyway, hopefully you and I can put the past behind us. Whatever else happens, your father and I would love for Lily to be the flower girl at our wedding.”

I smile at Gwen. “She would love that. Thank you.”

Gwen smiles back and goes off to her bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

_____

 

I wake up in the middle of the night in agony.

Lily’s feet are in my face, so there’s that. But also, a muscle in my neck has gone into horrible spasm. I literally cannot turn my head to the right without pain so bad that I see stars. It’s knife-through-the-skin kind of pain.

I look at my watch. Three in the morning. Great.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced pain this horrible before. Yes, I’ve experienced childbirth, but to be honest, that wasn’t that bad. I had a C-section and couldn’t feel my lower body the whole time.

I sit up in bed, hoping if I reposition, I might feel better. I don’t. My neck is still extremely painful. It’s so bad, I want to throw up.

I get out of bed and walk around the cabin. I can’t see any way I’ll be able to sleep with this going on. Maybe I need to go to the hospital.

When I’m by the door to Noah’s bedroom, I pause. It’s three in the morning and it would be really rude to wake him up. He was friendly to me today, but subdued. There was no flirting or teasing like there had been before our kiss. But every time I’ve ever been hurting or in pain, Noah has helped me. And he is a doctor.

Before I can stop myself, I’m knocking on his door.

After a few seconds, I hear him call, “Yeah?”

“It’s Bailey. Can I come in?”

When he answers in the affirmative, I enter his room. I see him fumbling with the lamp next to his bed, and when it turns on and I can see him more clearly, it’s a rush of déjà vu. I’ve seen Noah hundreds of times in the middle of the night looking just like this—eyes bleary with sleep, hair tousled, wearing an old, wrinkled T-shirt. But just like in the hospital, I can see that the blankets now end abruptly where his legs were cut off.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asks, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Everything okay with Lily?”

“No, it’s…” I wince with pain. “My neck. It’s killing me.”

“Well, you did carry a fifty-pound kid all the way from the lake,” he points out. “And you’re not really in shape.”

I glare at him. “Gee, thanks.”

“Just saying…”

I rub at my sore neck. “It really hurts, Noah. Like, a lot. I can’t even move my head.”

“Okay.” He pulls the covers off and I can see that he’s wearing just his boxers below the belt. He scoots to the edge of the bed. “Let Dr. Walsh have a look.”

I sit down next to him on the bed, partially turned to face him. He places his fingers gently on the place where my neck meets my shoulder and I practically scream with pain. He raises his eyebrows. “I guess I don’t have to ask if that’s tender.”

My eyes are tearing up. “God, it hurts so much.”

“Can you rotate your head?” he asks.

He demonstrates the normal way a person should be able to move their head forward, backward and to the sides. All the directions hurt a little, but when I try to turn my head to the right, it literally feels like I’m being stabbed with a thousand knives.

“What’s wrong with me?” I wipe my eyes, which are now actively watering from pain.

“Your upper trapezius is in spasm,” he explains. “Muscle spasms can be extremely painful and debilitating.”

“So what do I do?”

He hesitates. “I’ve got a muscle relaxant you can take. It’s… mine. And I’ve got some ibuprofen in the bathroom.”

Noah digs around in the dresser next to his bed and pulls out a small bottle of pills. He shakes one out and hands it to me.

“Just one?” I ask.

He shakes the bottle. “You’ve never had this before. One is going to knock you out, okay? We don’t need to put you in a coma.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom. “There’s ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. They’re regular strength, so take four of them.”

“Four?” I say. “Isn’t that a lot?”

Noah gives me a look. “Are you intentionally trying to question everything I tell you to do? Who’s the doctor here who sees twenty-thousand people with neck and back pain every year?”

Fair enough. I go to the bathroom, where I swallow the muscle relaxant, along with four tablets from his bottle of ibuprofen, even though the instructions say very clearly not to take more than two at a time. While in the bathroom, I notice that my hair is sticking up everywhere in an excellent impression of the Bride of Frankenstein. Oh well. I don’t even care anymore—I just want the pain to go away.

I come back to Noah’s room. He’s sitting up in bed, waiting for me. I sit down beside him. “It still hurts,” I report.

“Well, what do you expect? You swallowed those pills one minute ago. It’s not like I injected them directly into your vein.”

“This sucks,” I mumble. “It just hurts so much.”

Noah looks at me for a minute. Finally, he says, “Turn around.”

I turn to the side so that my back is facing him. After a moment, I feel his fingers on my shoulders. He’s not applying any real pressure, but gently rubbing the area. At first it’s uncomfortable, but as he slowly and patiently works his way deeper, my muscles start to melt.

“Wow, this really helps,” I comment. “Is this what you do for patients?”

“Patients?” He laughs. “No, not patients. Not if I want to keep my medical license.”

I don’t know if it’s the medications or the massage, but the pain has eased up considerably. Enough that I can pull away and turn back to face him again. “Thank you for that,” I say. I reach over and put my hand on top of his.

Noah gives me a wary look. I smile at him, but suddenly, I feel incredibly sleepy. I mean, really sleepy. So tired that I lie down on Noah’s bed, resting my head on his pillow, without even asking if it’s okay.

“Um,” Noah says. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sleepy.”

God, I’m tired. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired before.

“Well,” he says, “maybe you should go back to your bedroom.”

I should. I definitely should. But damn, am I tired.

“Bailey?”

I shut my eyes for just a second, enjoying the softness of Noah’s bed. His bed is so soft and comfy. It’s like five times more comfy than my bed. Maybe ten times more.

“Bailey.” I feel him shaking my shoulder. “I think the muscle relaxant I gave you is knocking you out. I probably shouldn’t have given you the whole pill.”

“I love the whole pill.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you do. Listen, you’ve got to go back to your room.”

Back to my room! He’s crazy! How can I go back to my room when I can’t even lift my head? And I’m not kidding. I literally cannot lift my head. It must weigh a thousand pounds. How do people walk around all day with their heads on their shoulders when heads are so heavy? The head should be on the feet. That would make so much more sense.

“Too tired,” I mumble into the pillow.

“I know you’re tired, but you can’t spend the night in my bed.”

“Why not?”

Noah looks frustrated. He’s got that pouty look on his face that he always gets when he’s frustrated. He’s so freaking cute right now. How did I ever let go of someone this cute?

“Our parents wake up really early,” he reminds me. “If you spend the night here, they’re going to know it. And Lily will probably wake up and be freaked out that you’re gone.”

“Don’t care,” I tell the pillow.

Do I care? My father finding out I just slept with his fiancée’s son seems like something I would care about. Except I really don’t. All I care about is never moving from this glorious bed. I want to live here. Lily will have to have her wedding in this room because I will never leave this bed. This is the best bed there ever was. And I am sooooo tired.

“Bailey…” Noah drops his head down to the pillow so he can look me in the eyes. He has such gosh-darn nice blue eyes. So nice. God, I miss him. “Please get up. Come on.”

How could I have walked out on him? What was I thinking? There’s nobody out there like Noah. Nobody. I could look a million years and he’d be the only one.

How could he have though I didn’t find him sexy? He’s just as sexy now as he ever was. And I’m going to prove to him I think so.

My right arm feels like it weighs close to as much as my head, although maybe only five-hundred pounds. It feels like I’m moving through molasses but I manage to get my right hand on the bare end of one of Noah’s stumps. I place my palm firmly on top of it, and then I knead my fingers into the loose skin.

“Whoa!” Now it’s Noah who jerks away from me. Ha, what a hypocrite! He struggles to sit up in bed, then does his best to cover the ends of his stumps with his boxers, even though they’re not quite long enough. “What are you doing?”

I giggle sleepily. “What? I’m proving to you that I think you’re sexy.”

He shakes his head at me. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“But I do,” I murmur. “I do. I do think you’re sexy. So sexy. I really, really, really do. Really, really….”

What was I saying again?

“You need to go back to your room,” he announces. He grabs his wheelchair by the side of the bed and transfers into it. He smooths out his boxers again, then picks up a pillow from the bed. He lies the pillow down across his legs. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“No,” I say. “Stay here.”

Noah frowns. “This is not cute anymore, Bailey.”

God, he’s hot when he’s pissed off.

He leans over me and I grab him around the neck. He holds onto his wheelchair with one hand and uses the other arm to lift me onto his lap. Wow, he’s strong. He’s so, so strong.

I keep my arms around his neck even when I’m on his lap. I stare into his blue eyes and he stares back. I can see him swallow hard.

“I still want to stay here with you,” I say.

“It… it’s not a good idea.”

“I want you, Noah. I want you so, so bad. Please…”

Our lips are already only six inches apart. We’re so close. I can feel his hot breath. God, I want him. I want him even more than I want sleep. I want him and sleep. Those are the two things that I want more than anything, in that order.

And now he’s kissing me. I can feel his soft lips on mine, his tongue making my body tingle, the stubble of his five o’clock shadow grazing my chin. My hands slide into his hair, to the back of his neck, pulling his face as close to mine as it can get. I don’t just want to kiss him. I want to devour him.

Want. Want. Want.

“I can’t say no to you, I guess,” he says when our lips separate. But he’s smiling this time.

I cling to his neck, my body pressed against his chest. “I…” I feel my head swimming, but there’s something I need to tell him. Something important. “I think I still love you, Noah.”

Noah stiffens. He doesn’t say anything for long enough that I forget exactly what I said to him and why I’m waiting so eagerly for a response. Finally, he says, “Let’s get you back to your room.”

I’m too tired to fight with him anymore.

I lean my head against his shoulder and he wheels the two of us out of his bedroom, and into mine. He wheels us right up to the bed, where Lily is still passed out cold. I feel the chair bounce slightly off the side of the bed, then Noah locks the wheels of the chair.

“Okay, this is your stop,” he says.

My body still feels like it weighs two tons, but it’s considerably less painful to make it from Noah’s chair to my bed than it would have been to travel all the way from his bed to mine. His bed to mine? That was really far. No way was I making it. Why not make me run a marathon while you’re at it?

It’s nice to be back in my own bed. This one is really comfy too. Even better because Noah isn’t nagging me to get up. I can stay here forever if I like. That would be nice.

“Good night, Bailey,” he says softly.

“Good night, Noah.” I take one last look up at his blue eyes. I wish he were climbing into bed with me. I wish I could feel his body pressed against mine, his strong arms encircling my body. I really wish that.

Except Noah doesn’t move. He remains there, sitting with me as I drift off. And the last thing I hear him say, which I may very well have imagined is, “I think I still love you too, Bailey.”