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  Conversation over dinner is mostly about the bickering my parents did on the ride down here. For some reason, they would rather drive the eight or nine hours than fly. Marc makes his exit after dinner. I find myself alone with my mom because Dad joins Meredith when she goes to walk Leo. Something tells me they won’t be back any time soon. Mom helps me put away leftovers and wash the dishes.

  “Why didn’t you tell us yourself?”

  “Things have been busy,” I answer.

  She makes a noise since she doesn’t believe me. “So, she shows up in North Carolina out of the blue, you move her in here with you, start dating again, and don’t feel the need to share that with your family?”

  “Don’t say it like that. We’ve been catching up.”

  “Hope says she hasn’t talked about her former engagement or injury at all. Is she doing that with you?”

  “Somewhat.” Meredith hasn’t mentioned her PT at all, and I haven’t asked her about it.

  Mom is quiet for a moment. “Do you really think you two can make this work? Do you really think she won’t leave you again? I’m not going to be able to listen to my baby boy whine over her again. I’m worried that she’s only here because she has no other options. She lost her fiancé and practically her career, so she’s returning to the last good thing she had.”

  “Maybe she realized her mistake and is correcting it. She’s happy; I’m happy. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “How are you sure?”

  Her question stumps me. “I’m not,” I eventually say. “But I love her. I believe what she tells me, and we’re both determined to make this work.”

  “Well, she has her work cut out for her to get back onto my good side. Your father is so in love with her, he’s obviously not having any problems. You’ve both been enamored with her in your own ways since you first saw her. I don’t think I’ll ever understand that.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom. You’re being too hard on her. You used to like her. You definitely like her parents. Cut her some slack.”

  “I will once I see she deserves it.” She rinses the last dish and adds, “I’m going to lie down until your father brings our bags in. It was a long drive.”

  She leaves me alone and I realize it may be harder to get Mom’s, and probably Ashley’s, approval than I thought. Honestly, I don’t care about that. Sure, it bugs me a little, but no one knows our relationship better than us. I know we’re going to last. Mom and Ashley will come around once they see that for themselves.

  I grab my abandoned duffel bag, carry it to my room, and unpack before changing my clothes into something more comfortable. Meredith and Dad are walking in when I make it into the living room. Dad has their bags in hands.

  “Mom’s lying down,” I tell him.

  “I think I’ll join her. We’ll see you in the morning.” He gives me a nod before leaving us for the guest bedroom.

  I sit on the couch and Meredith sits next to me, her legs coming to rest in my lap.

  “I love your dad,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. Leo crawls out of her arms and over to me.

  “So, you guys had a good talk?” I ask while rubbing a knuckle under his chin.

  “Yeah. Let me guess; your mom isn’t happy about us.”

  “She’ll come around. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

  “I won’t,” she replies confidently. “Besides, your dad has enough enthusiasm for everyone. He said they were staying until Thursday. They’ll leave and then you’ll be gone for two weeks.” She sighs. “That’s the worst time for you to leave,” she whispers.

  “Why?” Is something happening that I missed?

  Mere briefly tenses. “I mean because we just got back together and we won’t be able to spend a lot of time together.”

  “We have the rest of our lives to spend time together.”

  ALL OF A sudden, it hits me.

  It’s October.

  So much stuff should be happening this month, and yet none of it is.

  I want to tell Noah. I need to tell him, but the thought of discussing it and reliving all the pain takes my breath away. Noah keeps telling me that we’re in this for the long haul. That now that he has me, he’s never letting me go. I can’t escape the past. I need to figure out how I’m going to tell him about the worst month of my life.

  “Mmm,” Noah hums from behind me as he places a soft kiss on my shoulder. “I love waking up with you.”

  I roll over to face him. “What does our future look like?” I blurt out. Most of my conversation with his dad last night was a back and forth between catching up from the source itself since he knew about my life thanks to my parents and telling me how happy he was Noah and I were together again. He kept talking about our future. How he always knew we’d get married and give him plenty of grandkids. How he knew we’d find our way back to one another and how bright our future looked. But I can’t think of our future because I keep seeing the past.

  And that breaks my heart.

  Noah blinks the sleepiness out of his eyes. “What does our future look like?” he repeats, and I nod my head. He leans his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes while he thinks. “Do you want my timeline or one you’re probably more comfortable with?”

  “Yours.”

  “Well,” he begins, running his hand up and down my side. “If it was up to me, we’d get married the first chance we get next summer. We’ll honeymoon wherever you want and buy a house. Then we’ll have a year or two to ourselves if we can stick to the plan before,” his hand moves to my stomach as tears form in my eyes before he has a chance to say what I know is coming, “I put a baby in you. Our future looks like us being together and happy. It’s me loving you for the rest of my life, just like I’ve been doing since I met you. That sounds good, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  Noah grins and kisses me. “Should I accept that also as a yes, you’ll marry me?”

  I laugh. “No, you shouldn’t, because I don’t remember being asked.” It’s surprising that I don’t feel any nerves over knowing that one day he’s going to ask me. There’s only an excited jitter in my stomach.

  “Man, I was hoping you’d let that slide,” he jokes.

  “Not a chance. Something tells me you’ve been dying to get down on one knee and ask me that particular question, and I’m not going to be the one to take that opportunity from you.”

  That smile of his seems to grow.

  “Not to mention, you can’t propose without a ring.”

  “Sounds like I can propose, then.”

  I stare at him. “What?” There’s no way he has a ring. He wouldn’t have bought one already. Right?

  Noah throws the sheets aside and gets out of bed. He goes to the closet and starts moving stuff around on the top shelf. Finally, he returns with a shoe box. He sits on the edge of the bed, near me, and hands it to me. “Open it.”

  I look down at the old, worn box and realize I’m scared to open it. It’s too big to hide a ring and I could hear stuff sliding around in there when he pulled it off the shelf. My hesitation causes Noah to reach over and remove the lid. Inside, there’s a ring box, tons of pictures, and even a few tickets from our movie dates. I can’t believe my eyes.

  Somehow, my hands go to the pictures instead of the ring box. God, we were so happy. Most of the photos are the same, us with our heads together, grinning like it’s the best day of our lives or smooching for the photo. Some are of us with friends, a few from graduation, and one I’ve never seen before. It’s on the campus of the university Noah attended. He’s hugging me and it’s obvious that his grip is tight. That was an emotional day for us both.

  After I’ve flipped through the photos twice, I set them down and grab the box. Gulping, I open it to find a modest engagement ring. It’s a simple gold band with a single diamond resting on top. My eyes squeeze closed, tears leak out, and I feel Noah’s thumbs wiping them away. I open my eyes to look at him.

  “I spent my
entire savings on that,” he says. “Remember when I was late to pick you up to get my tattoo on my eighteenth birthday?” I nod. “I was buying that. Ironically enough, the day I was going to ask you was the day you told me you wanted to break up.”

  “God, Noah, I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugs. “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. You were going to ask me to marry you and I broke up with you when I shouldn’t have,” I cry.

  “Don’t say that!” he suddenly shouts and stands. “You can’t regret it or say you shouldn’t have done it. I don’t want to think all of the time apart was a waste. I didn’t show you to upset you.” He snatches the shoe box and the ring box away from me. “I don’t know why I fucking showed you at all.”

  I scramble after him, grabbing his arm before he can put the box back on the shelf. “Noah, wait. I’m sorry. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is say that what I’ve been through and what you’ve been through was for nothing. I just can’t believe you were going to ask me.”

  He scoffs. “Like it’s so hard to imagine I’d want to marry you?”

  “That you were going to ask at eighteen, yeah. People just don’t do that.” Noah still seems disgruntled, so I ask, “Can I make a request?”

  “For what?” His voice is gruff as he tries to hide his curiosity.

  “If you ever ask—”

  “When I ask,” he corrects.

  “When you ask, ask with that ring.”

  He frowns. “What? No. I can do better than that, and you deserve better.”

  I shake my head. “I want that one.”

  “But why?” he asks, genuinely confused.

  I take the box from him, retrieve the ring box, and set the shoe box back onto the shelf before facing him. “Because I love you just as much now as I did then, if not more. I especially loved what you did on your eighteenth birthday.” I trace my name over his chest. “There is nothing I’d love more than to think about our history when I eventually wear it.”

  Noah thinks about it for a moment. “People are going to think I’m cheap when they see you wear it.”

  “I don’t care. We’ll both know differently, and we’re the only ones who matter.”

  “It’s really what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We shower and get ready before eating breakfast with his parents. More than ever, I’m certain that I need to tell him what happened. Who knows when he’ll decide to propose, but I can’t let him do that until my past no longer haunts me.

  Noah’s mom is civil toward me. I wish I could say friendly, but I know there are reservations about me underneath all of her statements, so civil seems more fitting. She’ll come around. Carol loves Noah too much to hold onto a grudge against me for too long because at a certain point, it could start affecting their relationship. She wouldn’t let it get that far.

  I wish I could say the same for Erica. I’ve realized that I’m not forgetting things; she leaves things out or says the wrong things on purpose, so she has a reason to essentially call me a dumbass. I’ve learned the routine by now, though. I’m able to have everything out, even things she may not use, just to save myself from hearing her bitch about how she told me to get it out when she probably didn’t. The only thing I love about my job is working with the girls. Kira, mostly.

  “If you keep this up,” I tell her, “you might be able to play in a game in a few weeks.” Practice officially ended two hours ago, but Kira and Ginny stayed to rally with me and get pointers. Ginny isn’t on the team, though she should be. She’s Kira’s best friend, a good tennis player, too, but she refuses to be on a team with Carrie, one of the girls who has a mean streak in her.

  I should be heading home to get ready for Noah’s game, but I can’t leave until they’re ready, not when they’re both trying to improve their skills.

  “Really?” Kira asks with surprise, which causes her to miss the shot I just returned. “Do you think Coach Erica would actually let me?”

  “If you have the skills, I don’t see why not.”

  “What is her issue with you anyway?” Ginny asks, jogging up to the net to be closer.

  “What are you talking about?” I feign obliviousness.

  “Oh, come on,” Kira says. “Everyone sees how short she is with you.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t think that’s something we should discuss.”

  “Word is you stole her boyfriend,” Ginny pushes the issue.

  Gah. I knew there was a reason I hated high school. “Who said that?”

  “We overheard Coach Erica telling another teacher when we passed by her office one morning,” Kira sheepishly explains.

  “Well, that isn’t what happened.” Good thing I don’t teach, or having rumors circulating about me could be worse to deal with.

  “It’s interesting that you and Noah Ramsey are both from Pittsburgh and went to the same high school.”

  Kira quickly looks at Ginny. “You didn’t tell me that!”

  She shrugs. “Just looked it up while I was waiting for practice to be over.”

  “Okay, okay. Enough about this. Are you guys going to play or should I pack up and go home?”

  “Have a hockey game to get to, by chance?” Ginny smirks.

  I look at Kira. “I’m glad she’s not on the team. She talks too much.”

  The girls laugh and return to their places to continue to play for twenty more minutes before relieving me to go home, joking about how they didn’t want to make me any later to the hockey game than I’m already going to be. Unfortunately, I forgot to put my jersey in the car. I do have some over-the-counter pain relievers, though, and I take a few of those for my shoulder. We played longer than I should have.

  I drive straight to the arena since the puck should’ve dropped at some point in the last twenty minutes. Once I’m there, I park in the reserved section for the players’ families. Noah’s parents, Carol and William, should already be here.

  A few minutes later, I open the door to the box, which seems full. Sylvia, the nosy and kind of pushy one from the BBQ, notices me first.

  “Oh! Meredith is here! We were wondering when you would join us.” She loops an arm through mine and walks me over to where Noah’s parents and a few other women are. I’m reintroduced to some of the wives and kids and do my best to remember their faces and names for future use.

  “How are you settling in?” Sylvia asks.

  “Pretty well. Where are the girls?”

  “Scott’s parents are watching them tonight. We should get together for lunch sometime. Theresa is my closest friend, so we usually try to go out to eat about once a week or so, but that can be tough to manage when the guys are gone. She has two busy teenagers, who aren’t old enough to drive yet, so she has to cart them off everywhere and get everything done during the day before she does.”

  “Everyone seems pretty close,” I comment.

  “Most of us are. There’s always bad apples.” She leans in and points to a woman who is married to Bradley Potter, one of our wingers. “She likes to stir shit up if she learns of any drama. I’m nosy, but I don’t spread the news. I only like knowing it. I think it’s just because Bradley is so boring, she needs some kind of excitement in her life.”

  I zone out as she rattles on about a few of the other ladies and their husbands. Shouldn’t I be watching the game? But then I perk up at the mention of Marc.

  “I was thinking of setting him up with one of my friends.”

  “Really? Do you think he’d go for it?”

  She scoffs. “I’ll have to convince her more than him.” My mouth parts to ask questions, but she waves me off. “Today is not the day to get into it. I just think he would be a good guy for her. I’ll have to bide my time and play my cards carefully if I want her to give it a shot. I’m hoping the whole opposites-attract thing hold
s true if it ever happens.”

  The opposite of Marc doesn’t sound too good, and I’m not sure if he would be attracted to someone who wasn’t as funny, happy go-lucky, and carefree as he is. Then again, I don’t know how opposite the girl is compared to him either. Sylvia gets distracted by another woman, so I move to the empty seat next to Carol and William.

  The second period is about to start and the Rebels are leading two to one.

  “How come you were late?” Carol asks.

  “I was helping two girls who wanted to stay after practice.”

  William leans forward to look at me. “What’s it like working with Noah’s ex?”

  I shrug. “Could be worse.”

  “But could also be better?”

  I nod. Not wanting to discuss it for the second time today, I ask if they have any pictures of Ashley’s baby, Nicholas. Smiles break out on both of their faces as they pull out their phones to show me images. This is the only time Carol seems truly genuine with me. Seeing the precious baby boy does all sorts of things to me. But it isn’t until I see a photo of Noah holding the baby, presumably taken the day before I ran into him at the airport, do I struggle to hold back tears.

  Noah is grinning and acting as if he and the baby are fist bumping. In actuality, the baby is crying and his little hand is curled into a fist as his arm stretched out.

  “He’s a testy little thing,” Carol says, oblivious to my struggle not to have a meltdown. “He definitely gets that from Ashley. Doesn’t take much to make him cranky or pissed off. Ashley was the same way as a baby. Noah wasn’t quite so bad. It was easier to soothe him when he made a fuss and he liked to giggle where Ashley looked at you like you were a big dummy. It’ll be interesting to see what kind of personality Noah’s babies ends up with.”

  “We want plenty of grandkids, in case you were wondering,” William adds. “We’d definitely visit more often.”

  I give him a weak smile. “I don’t think we’re close to that point yet.”

  He tenderly smiles. “You’ll get there.”

  I return Carol’s phone to her and focus on the game. Marc makes a pass to number thirteen. I’ve studied the roster in hopes of remembering names and numbers. That one belongs to their captain, Brayden Hayes. He’s a little taller than Noah, I think, but he seems to dominate the ice as he weaves his way through players and sends a shot to the goalie. The puck seems to bounce off Noah’s leg and changes directions. There’s a scramble in front of the net before cheers are booming in the arena as the puck slips past the goalie and slides across the line.