"You used to be this boy I loved. I used to be this girl of your dreams. Who knew the course of this one drive injured us fatally?" Love without tragedy by Rihanna.
Thursday, July 9th, 2020
10:00 PM
I took an underwhelming bite from the corner of my dull tomato sandwich and washed it down with a stale orange soda that had been open and on my desk for hours. The tart taste of the bread mixed with the candy-like flavor of the soda stung my taste buds, making the insides of my tongue prickle.
With my eyes closed and my brows furrowed in concentration, I relished the moment of complete normalcy and waited for the residual taste to disappear so I could torture myself with yet another unimpressive bite.
I had spent most of my life striving for greatness. Aiming for extraordinary. I had sacrificed my childhood for success. Forgone my youth for love. Relinquished my sleep for my career. And surrendered my soul to the universe. But lately, I had been longing for mediocrity. Craving for average. Because, as it turned out, "extraordinary" came with a price too expensive to pay.
My sanity.
Clenching the bread tight, inadvertently squishing the tomatoes together, I leaned my head forward, ready to shove the sandwich into my waiting mouth. Lean mayo oozed out and dripped onto my scrub pants, sparing the pile of paper on my desk in a near-miss.
"Whoa!" I picked up a napkin and wiped the white-ish mess from my navy-blue pants before it left a stain. Angling my sandwich away from the desk, I scooted back in my chair, creating a space between the mountain of paper and my sloppy food.
Locked inside the closet-Esque office by the restrooms, I had spent the better part of my night buried nose deep on paperwork, filling up a hefty patient accident report form for an incident that had happened under my watch.
One of my patients who had come in for a sinus infection had ended up being admitted for a fractured wrist and a dislocated joint after he slipped and fell while walking to the bathroom unaccompanied. He was examined and scheduled for an open reduction and internal fixation surgery. And instead of scrubbing in and learning new techniques, I chose to fill out paperwork... because that was how I coped with my chaotic life.
I made up for the order and regularity my life lacked by ruminating on tasteless food and immersing myself in lackluster work.
I yearned for an uneventful day. A monotonous, silent few hours where nothing was happening to me and around me. Where I was just an ordinary girl who wasn't being attacked by the universe and all four of its elements. I was exhausted from hustling my way through life. I was tired of all the harsh surprises that were being thrown my way. I was done being overwhelmingly overwhelmed.
I had completed the form and was only left with scribbling my signature when my phone buzzed from somewhere under the pile of paper. Putting down my sandwich on a clean paper towel, I shuffled through the stack and located my ringing phone.
Incoming call from Noah Thompson
Taking a deep, meditative breath, I answered the call and put it on loudspeaker. It felt so surreal having his contact displayed on my screen again. Being able to call his name out loud again. Having him back in my life again, be it unconventionally.
It had been two weeks since my world was turned inside out. Two weeks since Noah showed up in the parking lot bearing a tragic story to tell and a war wound to show. Two weeks since we had started getting to know each other all over again.
"Hey, Noah." I said, dragging my words between an eye-watering yawn.
Noah chuckled—just like old times—before he cleared his throat and replied. "Hey... May."
"What's up?" a rush of tingly hormones flooded my insides, causing uneasiness to leak out from my full lips that were stretched in a thin line from ear to ear. I called it the Noah effect. He triggered my fight-or-flight response. My body had these specific hyperbolic reactions reserved for only him. Regardless of the situation we were in, the status of our relationship, or how much time had passed without seeing each other, my body tumbled in anxiety as soon as I spoke to or thought about him.
Which had been quite often lately.
That night, two weeks ago, after he dropped the A-bomb on me, he unblocked my number and we parted ways with the promise of calling each other soon. Soon came soon enough and before I even made it to my apartment, he was spamming my line, calling and texting me with countless questions.
"Who was I to you? How did we meet? What was I like? What were you like? What did we do? Where did we go? Did we love each other? How did we break up? Why did we break up? ..."
I couldn't blame him for his keen inquisitiveness. After being blatantly lied to for seven years, he was eager to know—desperate to finally find out the right answers to his questions. I couldn't deny him knowledge, especially about us. I was more than willing to fill the gaps in his memory and insert myself back into the part of his life I was missing from.
If I couldn't get his future, I was going to make sure I had his past.
But I couldn't give him the answers he was looking for all at once. How was I supposed to answer his plethora of questions in one breath? How was I supposed to do our tragic love story justice over a single phone call? How was I supposed to recap months' worth of history in just a few words? How was I supposed to say hi and goodbye to him on the same day?
Besides, I had learned enough about all forms of amnesia over the course of my education and career to know better than to bombard him with too much information. He shouldn't be overwhelmed with memories he didn't remember. Not only would it not do him good, but it could also be detrimental to his health by triggering a seizure.
After explaining to him how complicated and long our history was, I had agreed to answer his questions one at a time. The only way we could navigate through the web of deceit we had found ourselves tangled in was through a piecemeal approach. In stages. Bit-by-bit.
With that, we had begun our journey down memory lane. Every day, he would call and ask me what time I'd be off work. Then he would wait for me in the hospital parking lot, leaning against my car with my favorite coffee in his hand and questions in his head. And every day, I would rub salt in my wounds just so I could spend more time with him. Just so I could relive the best months of my life.
"Nothing much. I just wanted to ask what time you'd be off work. Uh... We're still on for today, right?"
"Right." I glanced at my watch and freed my hair from my ponytail. "I'll be done in thirty minutes. Are you going to wait for me?" I said, massaging my head with my fingers.
"Of course." Keys shuffled from his end. "I'm going to head to Starbucks and grab us coffee first. I'll meet you at our usual spot?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
"A Grande Caramel Frappuccino, with extra caramel drizzle, right?"
A flutter went through me, and before I could stop it, an unflattering giggle escaped from my mouth. "That's right." I cleared my throat and tried to deescalate my mounting hormones.
"Awesome."
"Awesome." I echoed, plopping my chin on my palm and letting my eyes rest.
"Alright, well, I'll see you in a bit." His voice cracked with a chuckle.
Trapping my pen between my grinning teeth, "Okay. You too." I replied.
"Bye."
"Bye."
Noah breathed out a laugh, and I smiled in response. "Now would be a great time to hang up."
"Okay, I'm hanging up." I said, twirling in my chair.
"Okay."
"Okay."
"May?" he said as I moved my hand toward my phone, ready to press the end button.
"Yeah?" I replied, retracting my hand.
"Thank you for doing this." There was a thick layer of sincerity in his voice that went straight through my ears and penetrated my heart. "It really means the world to me."
Having you back in my life means the world to me. I wanted to say. But instead, my eyes welled with unsaid words disguised as unshed tears. "Uh-huh." I nodded and swallowed hard.
Noah hung up the phone, and the line went silent.
After a few seconds of collecting myself and wading in silence, I threw my hands up above my head, stretched my upper body from where I was seated, and continued printing my initials on the pile of paper for the next thirty minutes.
***
My body was sore. My back was aching from slumping down for hours while I filled out the hefty form. My fingers were straining from gripping my pen unnecessarily tight while I dotted down lengthy paragraphs detailing the accident I had witnessed. And my eyes were too busy batting away tears.
"Hot date?" Alexa, my co-worker and friend (I used the word "friend" very loosely) asked, giving me a once over from where she stood at the bathroom door.
"What? No. Why would you ask that?" I stammered, running a nervous hand through my hair. I was standing in front of the mirror, laying my edges and wetting my curls before I went downstairs to meet with Noah. I would be lying if I said I wasn't trying to look cute, but I didn't want to overdo it. Hence why her comment threw me off.
Alexa pulled her mask down to her chin, exposing her sly grin, and raised her hands in mock surrender. "No reason."
I brushed her comment off and turned my attention back to my edges. Dunking my edge brush into the thick cream, I coated my baby hair generously and brushed it down before swooping it up and creating a perfect curve. Satisfied with my hair, I picked up my mascara from the makeup bag I had never carried around and swept my lashes lightly.
Alexa ambled toward me with the knowing smirk still plastered on her face. "I've just never seen you put on mascara before, especially when you're leaving work." She ran her fingers through my hair and captured a curl, stretching it to its length. "Does it have anything to do with the hot guy waiting for you by your car?" Alexa whispered as she let go of my curl and watched it bounce back, regaining its coil.
I met her eyes in the mirror and rested my palms on the sink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, come on." She gathered her thick, dark hair, setting it in a low messy bun. "He's been coming around a lot lately. Is he your new boyfriend? Did you break up with the fancy cars guy?"
No, Alexa. The hot guy waiting for me downstairs is my ex-boyfriend who doesn't remember me. And I didn't break up with the "fancy cars guy", he broke up with me. He kicked me out of his fancy apartment like I was one of his disposable kitchenware. Because asking him to give me a fucking second to decide if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him was too much for his ego to handle.
But I didn't say any of those things to her. I wasn't obligated to share my life with her. I didn't owe her answers. Alexa was no more than a girl I met through my residency program. She didn't need to know my deepest, darkest secrets. She didn't get to have a front seat view of my crumbling life.
I simply shook my head and tossed my edge control gel along with my brush and mascara back to my bag and muttered, "No."
"May." There was a warning in her voice.
"Alexa." There was defeat in mine. "Let it go."
The beeping sound of a pager came to my rescue, interrupting our sore conversation. Alexa glanced at her pager and looked up at me, her wry smirk replaced with a frown. "He has a ring on his finger, May. I just wanted to tell you that in case you didn't notice."
My heart stilled, refusing to pump blood and my face paled as all the blood flow got redirected to my essential organs to keep me alive. "It... It's not like that, Alexa. He is just my friend."
"If my husband had a friend who laid her edges and put on her best perfume just to see him, I would key the fuck out of his car and give her a mean shiner." The bathroom door slammed shut as Alexa walked out of the bathroom, leaving me behind to ponder the weight of her words. They were heavy.
The world wasn't simple. It wasn't just black or white. It wasn't just right or wrong. There were areas in between. Grey areas that were neither here nor there. Neutral areas that were invisible to everyone but us.
I knew Noah was married. He hadn't told me details, and I didn't need to know, but I had heard him refer to Ava as his wife when he told me about his life after the accident. It was the hardest pill to swallow—accepting the fact that Noah was another person's person and no longer mine. But what other choice did I have than to just accept it? Fate was cruel. It was conspiring against us and our love. And love had never won the battle against fate. Who was I to try?
We weren't doing anything wrong. We weren't doing anything that could compromise his marriage and my morals. We didn't touch each other inappropriately. We didn't hold hands non-platonically. We didn't speak in a flirty tone.
The only sin we were guilty of committing was standing at that grey/neutral line for too long while we reminisced about the time we were in love. The only sin he was guilty of was trying to piece together the information his wife and brother had held hostage from him. The only sin I was guilty of was trying to reclaim the pieces of my heart he had held hostage from me.
Carrying the weight of Alexa's accusation, I made the elevator ride to the underground parking lot and walked to my parking spot with my bag over my shoulder and my hands neatly tucked in my scrub pockets. At his usual spot, wearing his usual lopsided smile, was Noah balancing a coffee tray and waiting for me to finish my stride.
"Hi." I pulled my face mask down and beamed at him.
"Hi, again." He said, scooting away a little and making space for me to sit next to him on the hood of my car.
I hoisted myself up and took my drink from his hand. "Thanks." I gestured to the drink. Taking a mouthful, I closed my eyes as the flavor of the caramel caressed my tongue and awoke my resigned tastebuds. A satisfied sigh tumbled through my closed lips when the cold drink made its way down my pharynx. It was a great contrast to the flat, tasteless food I had been consuming lately.
A soft chuckle came from beside me, alerting me to wake up from my foodgasm. When I dared to crack my eyes open and turn my head to the side, I found Noah looking at me with a toothy grin. "That good, huh?" his smirk was wide and crooked and just the way I remembered.
Crimson stained my cheeks, and heat went up to my neck, rushing to my ears. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, surrendered a shrug accompanied by a sheepish grin. "How was your day?" I changed the subject.
Noah's brown eyes studied me intently, his smile fading from his face for a few seconds before tipping his cup up and taking a swig of his drink. "Good." He shrugged. "Not bad." Nudging me with his elbow, "Yours?" he asked.
"Good... not bad." I nudged him back.
He let out a puff of air, the corners of his lips twitching. "How many lives did you save today?"
"None."
"How many lives did you change today?"
I scooped up a caramel-drizzled whipped cream with my straw and shoved it in my mouth. "None."
"Just mine?"
Trapping the cream between my tongue and palate, I swirled it along with Noah's viscous question. "Just yours." I looked up at him and held his gaze. There was an unbreakable tension swimming between us—a magnet driving us together.
Noah swallowed hard, his throat bobbing up and down. My eyes followed the movement, my mouth going dry. I was craving for him. Hungry for his kiss. Thirsty for his touch. Conflicting feelings swarmed my senses, clouding my judgment, blinding my conscience.
He reminded me of my youth. The time when things weren't so complicated. When life wasn't so unforgiving. When fate wasn't so punishing. When my dad was still alive. When LA was my home away from home. When I was still his Mer. But seven years had gone by. He had made a life for himself sans me. And I had made a life for myself sans him.
Juxtaposing Voices took sides and sang different lyrics of the same song in my ears. He was yours first! He is somebody else's now!
The latter won.
I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, pulling us out of the spell we were in. "I was stuck with paperwork."
There was a beat before he shook his head and spoke again. "I didn't know doctors did paperwork." He chuckled and raised a questioning brow.
"You live and you learn." I shrugged playfully.
"You live and you learn." He repeated my words, a contemplative look overcoming his features. "Tell me something, May?" he asked after basking in loud silence for a few minutes.
"What?"
"Anything. About us."
I stared at the lineup of cars in front of us and went over all the memories of us in my head, absently stirring my drink with my straw. There were too many of them. Most of which I had already told him little by little over the two weeks we had been spending time together. Deciding to keep it cryptic, "You used to be this boy I loved, and I used to be this girl of your dreams." I responded with a weak chuckle.
"What happened to us, May?" Noah asked, disregarding my attempt to lighten up the mood. His full lips parted to spit out the questions I didn't have answers for, but his brown eyes held grave accusations like they knew the answers already.
"Where did we go wrong? How the hell did we get here?" Hurt was as plain as day in his voice.
To him, those questions merely unsealed a waterway to satisfy his curiosity. To him, the answers to those questions were just that—answers. They wouldn't trigger his memory. They wouldn't poke his old wounds. They wouldn't evoke his buried feelings. They wouldn't demand his heart to miss a few beats.
Because, to him, I was just a stranger. His eyes didn't recall the imperfections they had once seen and loved. His hands didn't recognize the lifelines on the palms they had once traced. His lips didn't remember the promises they had once made.
His brain had no recollection of me. He didn't know me.
But to me, those questions opened a portal to a different epoch. A lifetime that was bittersweet. Sweet enough, I wanted to relive. Bitter enough, I wanted to forget.
"I told you already." I replied, drawing in a calming breath. "You left."
He sighed and ran his hand over his clean-cut hair. "It just doesn't make sense." He was angry... or agitated. I could tell by his trembling voice and tense shoulders.
"Which part?" I asked in a subdued voice, trying to calm him down. But the look on his face told me my calm couldn't eclipse his storm.
"All of it! This!" he pointed a finger and waved it between us, "Us! The tales you tell me! None of it makes sense!"
Instead, his storm shattered my calm. Exasperation had my eyes bulge wide. Offense had my heart crack open. Anger had my voice tremble. "The tales I tell you are realities. I didn't make them up. They're ourhistory."
Our story wasn't just a memory stored in my head. It was a petroglyph engraved in my heart. It wasn't easy to sit there and recap moments of our lives for him. It wasn't easy to relive tragedy just so he could get peace of mind. It wasn't easy for me to pour my heart out to the man who wrecked me every day after work. And yet I did all those things because he asked me to.
Noah snorted in disagreement. "You keep telling me these stories about two people who loved each other so fucking much. You tell me inside jokes I don't get. You show me pictures I don't remember taking. Text messages I don't recall. And then you keep telling me it's our story. You tell me it's us. Me and you. But I don't fucking get it, May. I don't get it."
"And you keep saying you don't get it. What don't you get?" my voice was sharp, and I was on the brink of losing myself in anger. I was exasperated, but I wanted to stay composed because, as much as I was angry, he was angrier. I couldn't even imagine what he was going through.
Maybe it was too much for him to handle. Maybe he was in over his head. Being told all these things he had done and felt which he had no remembrance of must be difficult. Being betrayed by his family members must be hard. Harder than I could imagine.
Noah pushed off of the car and adjusted his prosthesis. He paced around for a while, thinking I assumed before he stood in front of me, running an agitated hand over his face. "I'm leaving tomorrow."
"What?" my heart stalled.
"I'm heading back to home. My family needs me." His stare was impersonal and his tone was transactional. It was like a switch flipped inside of him, but the bulb lit up inside of me.
Noah had told me he had been living in Tappahannock, Virginia since his accident. After Ava nursed him back to health, he had married her and they had been together for six years... and counting. He had been making a living as a grocery store manager, running one of his dad's grocery stores located in his area. He was happy and content with his life from what I had gathered. It was only right he was going back. That was his home, after all.
But that knowledge didn't ease the growing pain in my chest.
As much as it pained me to admit it, our rendezvous had been purely coincidental. I had bumped into Noah that morning when the elevator stopped its descent at the second floor, opening its doors, presenting him. The second floor of my hospital was the orthotic and prosthetic departments. He had only come to Lenox Hill Hospital to get fitted for his new prosthesis leg. His old one had been giving him trouble walking because he had been losing muscle mass on his upper thigh and it was too loose. Noah wasn't there for me. He didn't come for me.
But he had stayed for me—because of me. His prosthesis was changed. His business was finished. The only reason he was miles away from his family was that I had held him hostage, shamelessly using his memory loss to my advantage and our story as a ransom.
Suddenly, the hot June breeze was replaced with crisp February cold. I felt like my blanket was ripped off me in the middle of a winter night. I felt naked and alone all over again. "But... but I haven't answered all of your questions yet. I haven't told you about the meaning behind our tattoos. I haven't told you about your nickname for me. I haven't..."
"I have to go." He cut me off with a voice so stern and a gaze so distant.
"But you just got here. I just found you."
"No, May. I found you. You didn't even look for me."
"Wh... what?"
"If you loved me that much, if I was that important to you, then why the hell did you never come looking for me? When I disappeared, you just what? Forgot about me and went on with your life?" his anger was tangible. The veins in his forehead were pulsating and ready to rupture.
"You spent the past two weeks telling me how much of a commendable person I was, how much of an incredible lover I was. Why was it easy for you to believe the worst of me then? If leaving you, disappearing, was out of character for me, why the fuck did you not look for me? You had the memories. You were supposed to find me."
"You don't get to put the blame on me, Noah. I am as angry as you are. I am as messed up as you are. You... you think you have it hard? I have it hard too. I am so funking angry at you and your wife and your brother and my mom and my dad the whole entire world. Yet I have no one to blame because this is the card I was dealt with."
"Why. Didn't. You. Look. For. Me. May."
"You. Left. Me." I matched his attitude.
"I didn't leave you. You let me go. You gave up on me. You didn't trust me. If you had trusted me, you'd know something was wrong when I didn't show up and you'd have looked for me, easy."
"Not that easy."
"Yes, it was. From what you've told me, I just went to see Ava's mom. I didn't end the relationship. I didn't tell you goodbye. In fact, you told me I told you I would come back. But why didn't you look for me when I didn't come back? Weren't you worried? My parents live in the same state as you, for fuck's sake. You couldn't have asked them? You couldn't have asked around about me? You just... you just let me... vanish into thin air?"
I should've looked for him. I should've asked around. If I didn't always see and expect the worst in people, I could've saved our love. I could have saved myself. I did this. I ruined our love. I messed us up. I let him suffer. I am so stupid. How could I let this happen? But how could I have known? How could I have guessed he would be in an accident that wiped his memory of me clean? These kinds of things didn't happen in real life... or so I thought.
"I thought you left me for her." I whispered, wiping away my tears, thick with guilt.
"Why?" he asked in a weak voice. His face softened when he saw the tears streaming down my cheeks.
"Because I was young and naïve and insecure. Look at me, Noah. How the hell was I supposed to compete against her? What chance did I have? And you choosing her over me, her family over mine, didn't help. What was I supposed to think? I was just 19. 19."
"And I was just 20, May. I didn't remember you, or my life with you, but I knew something was missing, so I looked. I asked questions and followed any trail that led me to the answers. I didn't know what or who I was looking for, but for years, I looked for you. I looked for you, May."
He let out a long sigh and leaned on the hood of my car. We stayed silent, looking at the lineup of cars parked in front of us. Heat was leaking out of his pores. Regret was leaking out of my eyes.
"I called you every day." I spoke, breaking the chilling silence. "I waited for you for years. What else was I supposed to do?"
"Fight for me. You were supposed to find me and fight for me, May." His voice was thick and deep and his words came out lazy, displaying his defeat.
"My dad died the day you left. Before the tears I cried for you even dried. My life turned upside down that year. I went through hell and back alone, carrying the burden of my family on my back while nursing the broken heart—the heart you broke—in my chest. I was mourning the loss of my dad and grieving the loss of you at the same time. I was fighting to survive. Fighting to raise myself and my brother. Fighting to feed my alcoholic mother. I was withering away."
I found his eyes and held his gaze. "I couldn't have fought for you, Noah. I had no fight left in me. So, don't. Don't try to put this on me. Don't put the blame on me. I am only human."
I took his hand and interlaced our fingers. A sad smile stretched my lips when our fingers molded together perfectly, just like they used to. "You left me at a hospital parking lot while I begged you to stay. You broke the promises you made to me by walking away. You looked at my tear-stricken face through your mirror as you drove away from me. You left me behind as I cried. You called me selfish for loving you. You abandoned me when I needed you the most."
Taking a second for the words to sink, I continued. "I should've looked for you, yes. I should've known better than to waste my years hating you. Resenting you. But you weren't all that perfect either, Noah. You shouldn't have left me in the first place. You shouldn't have walked away from me. I was your girlfriend. I should've come first. But I get it and I don't blame you. We were young. Life's a bitch. So, you shouldn't blame me either."
I slid down from my car and walked to stand in front of him. "Go back home. I won't ask you to stay this time. You have a family now. You're no longer mine. So, go. Leave. Do what you want and think is right. But let me drive away first. Let me walk away this time. Because the image of you leaving me is still imprinted in my brain. I can't handle another one."
Noah's face pinched in pain as he stood straight and cupped the back of my neck with his hand. He pulled me into him and circled his other hand over my shoulder. I clung to his shirt and let my parting tears fall. We hugged each other as our chests vibrated synchronically in anger and defeat.
He rested his head on top of mine and inhaled my air. I buried my nose in his chest and breathed his scent. We were still standing at the grey line, but ready to let go of the past and take a step toward the white line. We just needed a keepsake before we did the right thing and bid farewell.
There were so many stories we hadn't covered. So many questions that were still lingering in the air above us. Why was life cruel to us? Why was Ava so selfish? What did Zach get out of it? But, sometimes, some questions were better left unasked. Just like some things were better left unsaid.
Noah let go first. He took a step back and put some space between us. Grabbing my hand, he stroked my tattoo while he asked me one last question. "Why A plus?"
Following the movement of his thumb over my ink, "We made a promise to love each other our best. A+ is the highest grade. Our best was the highest grade." I did my best explaining.
"Did we? Did we love each other A+?"
I nodded. "We did. You did until the day you left. I do to this day."
He squeezed my hand. "Good."
I smiled up at him through my cloudy eyes. "Good."
"Bye, May. Thank you for being my 'once upon a time.'"
"Good bye, Noah. Thank you for being my 'once in a lifetime.'"
Just as we let go of each other's hands and took a few steps back warily, "May!" a frantic voice came from behind me.
I turned around to see Nick walking toward us, peeling his mask off with his hand. His piercing blue eyes glowed in the dark as they roamed my face.
"What are you doing here?" I breathed. "I thought you were in Canada."
"I came back. I boarded a plane as soon as I got your voicemail. But I had to fucking quarantine for two weeks." He stood right in front of me and grabbed my shoulders with his hands. "I've been calling you." He tucked a stray curl behind my ear.
Nick's eyes found Noah standing right behind me, and his face paled. His hand froze in my ear, his eyebrows pinched together, and he looked down at me in shock. "What the hell is he doing here?"
"Calm down, Nick." I began, but I got cut off.
"Oh, hey, man. Small world." That was Noah.
"Uh," I turned around to face him, giving my back to Nick, "you don't know him, Noah. Or, I mean, you don't remember him."
"Fuck." I heard Nick's strangled mutter from behind me.
Noah tilted his head to the side and looked over my shoulder, studying Nick intently. "Uh, no. I remember him. You're the guy from that pet store in LA, right?"
I let out a nervous snort, my neck swinging from Noah to Nick like a pendulum. "No, he's not. What pet store?"
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Nick was whisper-chanting.
"Nick? Isn't it?" Noah asked, his face finally lighting up in recognition.
I spun around to find Nick covering his eyes with his hands, his neck bent down in shame. My jaw fell, meeting his head on the floor.
What the hell was going on?
...
a/n- Question for ya'll, what is love without tragedy?
How do we feel about this chapter?
We're almost done with this book. I think there's only one chapter and an epilogue left. Are you guys eager to see the end of May and Noah's story?
As always, thank you for sticking along this beautiful journey with me. I love and appreciate each and every one of you. 💗
Cosmic-Enigma and Peachhiii
Special thanks to you guys, for always reading, voting, commenting, and cheering me on. I truly appreciate you two! 💗