Fixing Noah / Finding Noah - #ForNoah | +18 | BWWM

17 | After - Part 4

It took a brief text to Carly for me to leave. Mostly, my job was done. Food was done, and firefighters were coming later. Everyone was introduced and set. Except for the men at the station, but that was something they could handle without me fixing things. The magical personal assistant is not needed. It was the long drive home that destroyed me a mile at a time.

Opening the locks of my tiny apartment that was all mine. The fresh scent of house plants and home. I had more floor space filled with house plants than I did in the actual apartments. Then I passed by Noah's painting for my kids and it was the last weight. My emotions I was barely holding broke free of the dam. I thanked god that the kids were not home with me. Because the tears that fell from my eyes were the ugly ones. The kind that annihilates you couldn't be quiet about. Couldn't have that cry in the bathroom that you don't tell anyone about.

Emotionally, I was over-invested in my love for Noah. It was that simple. I was team fucking Noah to the point of now ruin. Somehow it felt like my life was repeating, but thankfully Noah was honest with me. I made a mistake with my ex-husband. That fear has me captured by ghosts every day. The fear of repeating the same mistake again. I filled in the blanks with my ex-husband. Smoothing things over and making it work, thinking that I was doing the right thing. We'd make it. Making it was more important to me than the quality of what we made. I got that butt dial from my ex and he was cheating. He was mid fuck, deep in his sidepiece and it crushed me. But the reality is I'd crushed myself before that call ever came. I would not do it again. Not even for Noah. Even If I tried to do it for Noah, it would be unfair to him.

I gave Noah my terms. We can fuck around or we can end it. It's fine, but at least everything is out in the open and he didn't lie to me. If everything is fine, why are you still crying? Yeah, my brain got no chill. I wasn't fine. I was so far from fine that it wasn't even funny. Here's the thing though I can move forward now. No matter where that forward takes me. I deserve forever. I closed my eyes to the words, and the tears ran down my dark cheeks. The walk to the couch was so heavy. I curled into it and I hoped to sleep away the pain.

The phone rings once. I pull it from my pocket, setting it on the coffee table. The ring was my mom's and skipping it was the right choice. I'd call her back later. It rings three more times. I expected her to give up and call back later in the day.

Being alone and settling my mind was the thing to do. I didn't want more piled on. Guilt set in as the phone kept on ringing. I picked up the phone, the camera screen flickering on. Great... video call. I quickly wipe up my face and plaster a fake smile.

"Hey mom," I say with false cheer.

"Hi!" She says with all the real cheer I was faking. She goes on and on about meeting up and having a family night. The next time, she's coming to babysit. Until like a bubble, her cheer pops.

My mother Diola Tyson was the kind of black woman who, even in rags, would wear the robes of a queen. She had that way about her I never really got. I never begrudge that to her. My daughter had that same way about her. It's the weight of grace and a deep well of pride. My mother didn't know what to do with the nerd to whom she gave birth. I was always a puzzle box, but she respects the puzzle. She gave me things to make my world more interesting. My mother was proud when I showed I had a talent for the organization. She always treated it as the most interesting thing. Imagine waking up to your daughter, who organized your closet from winter to summer. Then, on top of that, in a grouping of what you most liked to wear first. So, my mother didn't know what to do with me, but she loved me from the depths of her heart. She made sure I knew it, too. Because of that and into the next life, I'll forever wish to be like my mom. My mother stopped mid-sentence and her soft brown eyes changed and widened.

"Oh, baby," my mother didn't ask. She didn't pump me for information. Instead, she just let the storm come for me. She let it wash out over me because I couldn't hide it. I couldn't hold it back because I'd already let it come and holding it back took more than I had. She stayed with me and she was exactly what I needed.

A/n: Thank you for the support. Thank you for voting. Thank you for the comments. Thank you for your time. It means the world. It helps the books get out there. I enter into watty this year and I'm pumping edits on the Tour right now. But Noah is always in my heart. End of the chapter no more parts.