"I know it doesn't make any sense." Noah reasoned as I stared at him with my mouth gaping. He let out a short, humourless laugh. "It's just something I have to do. She says that she went to my father's house to beg him to take her back. Supposedly he got so mad at her for showing up after he'd told her to stay away that he roofied her, hit her and knocked her unconscious. He has a court hearing in less than two weeks."
I was unable to articulate words as I continued to stare at him in shock.
What?!
"What are you talking about?" I finally stuttered.
Noah licked his lips and glanced around the room as if he were trying to find a way to explain. "Sabrina has taken everything important from me-- my family..." His gaze flickered to me, "you. If I let her get revenge on my father too, then she wins. She'll either take every cent my family has or watch my father rot in jail. My father deserves whatever consequences he gets for what he did, but I won't let him be punished for something he didn't have do. I won't let her win." Noah told me with such intensity in his voice that I wondered if he was going to punch something. His hands were wrapped around the chair he was sat on and his knuckles were turning white.
I stood up and dragged my chair over to him, a sigh escaping my lips. It had been over half a year since we'd graduated high school and yet Sabrina was still finding ways to mess with us all. Why couldn't she just get a part-time job or something to pass the time?
"If you take the blame Noah, she wins anyway. You're innocent." I told him slowly, hesitantly resting my hand over his on the arm of the chair.
Noah glanced sadly at our entwined hands and then at me. His gorgeous face looked tired and pale, and I briefly wondered how long it had been this way. He'd been suffering through this alone for months--even while we'd been together-- and yet I'd never noticed the dark circles hung under his eyes, or his down-turned mouth. Had I been so selfishly caught up in my life at Princeton that I hadn't even seen that something was clearly wrong?
It was one thing for me to be mad at Noah for not telling me about his issues, but it was something else entirely for me not to notice. Guilt washed over me instantly-- some girlfriend I was.
"My dad is innocent too." Noah continued. "He's done horrible, terrible things Issy, and this isn't his first time in a court room. But regardless of the fact that he has no alibi, I know he didn't do this-- never this. The consequences for a first time offender have to be less harsh than they would be for him."
It took a few moments for me to fully understand what Noah was telling me. If Sabrina fabricated enough evidence and won the case, Noah could end up in jail. The thought sent a jolt of electricity through my body. When I finally looked at him, I could tell instantly that I wasn't going to be able to persuade him otherwise on this one. I'd lost that power over him when we'd broken up, and this was bigger than just me.
Eventually I sighed, my stomach churning and my resolve disappearing into thin air. "Well," I concluded quietly, reluctantly, "if this is what you have to do, I'll support you however I can."
***
I took a few hours after my conversation with Noah for me to gather my thoughts, and I headed back to my dad's house to freshen up and catch up on some much needed sleep. So much had happened in such a short amount of time and I was too tired to sort through any of it.
I made my way through the house sluggishly, leaving a trail of clothing as I went. I jumped into the shower and turned the water as hot as I could handle, letting it wash away the tension in my shoulders and neck. I buried my face in my hands and focussed on the sensation of water streaming through my hair and onto my back, trying to calm the tornado that was brewing inside of me.
Imagined images of my mother's accident flashed through my mind on repeat. I had found out that my mother had been driving back to Connecticut to see my father when the accident occurred. She'd been hit by a drunken driver running a red stoplight, and he'd smashed so hard into her side of the car that the paramedics who rescued her were sure she would die at the scene. Luckily for him, the drunk driver escaped with only minor injuries, but he wouldn't be driving again anytime soon for obvious reasons.
I turned the shower off and stepped into the cool air, pulling a towel around me tightly. Instinctively, I walked into my childhood bedroom, which was almost bare now. The walls were still decorated with my Cabbage Patch Kids and that hideous poster of Mickey Mouse, and the carpets were their usual purplish-grey.
I sat down on the stripped bed, shivering in just my towel as I stared at the floor.
"Isabelle?"
I looked up to find Ethan standing in the doorway, watching me with concerned eyes.
"What are you doing here?" I asked quietly, pulling my towel a little further around my body.
Ethan leant against the doorframe as I had seen him do so many times before in my office in LA, only this time things were different. The light, comfortable atmosphere that had always hung between us was gone, replaced now by a strange tension.
Then again, maybe I was the only one feeling the tension since I was basically naked.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Your dad told me where to find you." Ethan confessed, taking a seat on the rolling chair behind the study desk.
I nodded once. "I'm fine. Just... trying to figure out how to detangle my thoughts, I guess."
Silence fell upon us as we looked at each other and, all of a sudden, I felt like we were strangers.
In Ethan's fancy apartment in LA I could pretend that I fit in, that I loved to party and attend red carpet events and that expensive clothes were the norm for me. I could even pretend that working at The World Against Us was exactly what I'd dreamed it would be. But here in my childhood room in Stratford, I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend that I didn't care about the people I was leaving behind, or that I hadn't missed watching my father finally fall in love again. I couldn't pretend that there wasn't a side of me who loved to be dorky and make stupid puns and eat an entire bag of M&Ms on the sofa with Sam. I couldn't pretend that this glitzy, glamorous person who lived in LA and got mentioned in gossip magazines was me.
Because it wasn't. That life was just the product of avoiding everything and everyone I loved back home.
Eventually Ethan sighed, twiddling his thumbs on his lap as I snapped out of my daze. "Look, Isabelle, there's another reason I came here to find you." He took a deep breath and glanced at me anxiously. "Seeing what happened to your mom-- it made me realize how short and fragile life is and that if you want something, you have to take hold of it. "He turned towards me, his hair ruffled and his tired eyes full of anticipation. "Which is why I want you to stay with me in LA after your internship." He blurted out in a hurry. "You can move into the apartment permanently and we can find a paid position for you at the magazine office and-"
"Wait." I interrupted, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
What was this-- drop a bombshell on Isabelle day?
Ethan stopped talking abruptly, his body growing still. I shook my head quickly, opening and closing my mouth like I was speaking but no words found their way out.
"Is that a no?" He asked, so quietly that I had to strain my ears to hear him.
"I'm sorry." I croaked, feeling myself choking up again. "Ethan, I can't stay in LA with you, not now at least. Noah's going through a--"
"Noah?" Ethan cut me off, his eyes flashing with white-hot anger and his muscles tensing.
I lay my head in my hands and tried to calm my breathing as anxiety twisted his bony fingers around my stomach and squeezed it painfully. "I need to be here for him and his trial right now, even if we're not a couple." I explained the whole Sabrina situation to Ethan briefly, who stared at me in turn.
We watched each other for a few moments, both of us unsure what to say.
"Please just consider it." He pleaded eventually, as his body slumped. He said the next words so quietly that I almost didn't catch them, but they hung in the air between us like knives.
"Because I love you, Isabelle."