Compulsive (Liar Duet, Book 1) A Forbidden Romance

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

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17 years earlier...

Noah sat patiently in his booster seat at the table waiting for his cake. Dad had gone to get it while Grandma secured a circus animals bib on Noah. Aunt Becca and Aunt Barb stood on each side like annoyed bookends. Dad had told Grandma that seventeen was too old to still be dressing like twins. Even I knew that at the age of eight. Their faces didn't look like they were at a birthday party. That was standard for them anyway, but Dad and Grandma had the same look on their faces then, too. I wondered if those were the faces that Noah would get at every birthday for the rest of his life. It didn't seem fair that his special day had to be both a happy day and a sad day. I thought that was why Dad let me pick out the cake at the store. Noah was too little. He probably hadn't even known it was his birthday. But I knew what that day meant.

When Dad turned around holding the cake with the lit candle, Grandma started to sing. The rest of us joined in, staring at Noah as he stared at the cake with the flaming 'Number One' inching toward him. My eyes left the birthday boy quickly, more interested in everyone else's faces. I needed to see if they were truly happy or only pretending. I tired of looking at pretend happy faces. I tired of everyone looking at Noah with tears in their eyes. At least I made sure that Noah had one person who gave him real smiles. They all thought I was too young to notice, but I noticed everything after that day. I noticed how Dad lost the light in his eyes. How he appeared tired all the time and hardly ever played with me anymore. Grandma had said things would get better soon.

Noah dug deliriously into the cake with his hands while Grandma took pictures of him covered in blue and white frosting. I didn't even care that I wouldn't get a piece. Noah was smiling and that was all that mattered to me. He stuck his pudgy arm out at me. I curled my fingers around his and licked some of the frosting off.

"Noah, honey. Look this way," Grandma said.

Five minutes later, my twin aunts had lost interest and had already gone to the living room to watch TV. That's all they ever did, besides talk about boys, even though neither of them had ever had a boyfriend.

Grandma looked at the pictures she'd taken and whispered to the screen, "Oh, God...you look just like Sara in this one."

Dad pulled a beer out of the refrigerator, but Grandma sighed and looked down her nose at him. He put it back and slammed the door shut.

"Should he open his presents now?" I asked, hoping that brought everyone some happiness.

Noah raised his cake-layered limbs toward his gifts on the table. "This...this."

It was my fault he used that word for just about everything he wanted. I couldn't stand to hear him cry...probably because I could tell Dad hated it, too, but for a different reason. So I'd made a habit of running around desperately pointing to things asking "This? This?" to see what he wanted. Pleasing Noah had become my full-time job.

I pushed the pile of presents closer to him while Grandma washed him with a damp dish towel.