Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
It still seems surreal. Not because it all feels exactly the same as it did the last time around but because it doesn’t.
There are shades to him, nuances, where none existed before. His confidence is now rounded out by a deep-seated humility that was earned the hard way. There’s thoughtfulness where there was once only brash instinct and a desire to chase the thrill at any cost.
This Noah is a thousand times more dangerous to my heart than the younger one ever was.
He pulls away and stares, his expression too intense for it to be casual. We’re on the precipice of something big…and we both know it.
“Look up.” He jerks his chin toward the sky and tucks a hand beneath his head, his bicep bulging.
Turning onto my back, I snuggle into the nook between his chest and arm and what I see makes me hum in appreciation. No pollution, no clouds to mask the beauty. The night sky is filled with stars. An endless amount of stars.
“I forgot about this,” I murmur, caught up in the magic of it.
And so much more. It’s been coming back a little at a time. Block parties and Fourth of July fireworks at Memorial Park. Saturday football at OU and whiskey-colored smiling eyes, daring me to try the calf fries, cheering me on at my matches, promising to love me forever. Just some of the memories I packed away when I decided to leave my past behind. Never lost. Only forgotten.
“I sleep out here when I can…It makes me feel closer to you.”
My emotions are suddenly walking a tightrope, one wobble in either direction and I’m dead meat.
He turns and his eyes filled with a bottomless reserve of feeling move over my face. “Maren…can you to forgive me?”
I think about what my mother said––about the heavy burden of guilt and what it does to a person. And I can see it in his eyes. I can see it weighing on him and I know that I don’t want him to carry it for a minute longer. And my father was right. My resentment had been hurting me as much as it has him. It’s been keeping me in a place I don’t want to be––trapped in the past.
The wobble starts, emotions swinging left and right. It’s too late to double back. I’m too far gone to save myself. I’m falling hard for him again and I refuse to be a coward about it for a minute longer. I’m ready to face my fate head on.
“I forgive you,” I murmur. “No more looking back.” And I mean it down to the bone, my voice resonating with the truth of it.
The shadows in his eyes disappear––along with our past, the scorecard I’ve held onto so tightly. All the little nicks and bruises we’ve inflicted on each other over the years. All the broken promises and disappointed hopes dissolve under the power of those words. A fresh start, free of conditions, is the only way forward––and likely the last chance we have to get it right.
Clothes go flying. My shirt winds up hanging precariously on the railing. His t-shirt falls into the pool below. Shorts and underwear meet a similar fate. And as he’s sliding home, thrusting up with enough force to make the heavy chair squeak, he says, “I love you…I love you so much.”
I’m free-falling. All I can do is pray the landing is soft.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Maren
Forgiveness doesn’t happen instantly. You don’t wake up one day and wipe away a decade’s worth of hard feelings simply because you’ve decided to grant it. And you can’t force it either. You have to acclimate to it slowly. Like getting into a hot bath. It takes time before it starts to feel good.
In the weeks that follow I let go of what remains of the resentment I’d stored up against Noah a little at a time. Until feeling good becomes the new normal. And in return, Noah gives me back a little more of what he took all those years ago, restoring the best parts of us and leaving the rest behind.
The bronze statue of Rowdy and Goliath is finally ready to be delivered, albeit three weeks behind schedule. The ceremony is set for the end of the week. We have yet to talk about me going back to London. Technically, once the statue of Rowdy is unveiled, there will no longer be a legit reason to stay. I have a strict routine to get back to, a new coach and trainer to hire…career goals to accomplish. None of that has changed. Problem is, the thought of leaving him digs a hole in my gut and as one day rolls into another and we get closer to the unveiling that hole keeps getting bigger.
“Miss Murphy!”
I’m at the supermarket, loading groceries in the truck when I hear someone calling me. Glancing around, I discover Tim Walters waving at me.