Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Can’t say I know either.”
My stepmom leans forward with her hands clasped on her desk. “Are you having second thoughts?”
I nod. “About everything. I don’t know what to do or who to believe. What questions to ask or what information to demand.” I stand up and start pacing. “It’s like my world is crashing all around me and I can’t stop it. I’m in love with another woman and Dessie knows this, and now she’s pregnant and I just…” My heart rate accelerates, causing my breathing to become sporadic. I bend at my waist, even though I know this isn’t the answer. Aubrey is there to help me back to the chair.
“Noah, you’re facing an uphill battle. Your feelings for Peyton are getting stronger, but your desire to do the right thing is also playing a heavy part in your decision-making. Have you spoken to Dessie about how you feel?”
“She knows I’m in love with Peyton.”
“Is that when she told you she was pregnant?”
I nod. “We broke up. I told Peyton how I felt, and Dessie shows up in Chicago with the news.”
“And just like that your happily ever after is swirling down the toilet.”
I look at Aubrey, who is smiling. “Nice analogy.”
She shrugs. “If I knew more about football, I’d use one of those, but this coach’s wife is not well versed on the terminology. I only know that when Mack has the ball, he has to run fast.”
Aubrey opens her arms and I fall into her embrace. “It’ll all work out, Noah. I don’t have the answers, but your dad and I have the resources. You could always bring her in to hear the heartbeat if you want.”
Her suggestion gives me a lot to think about, but still, I don’t know what to believe. Dessie has no reason to lie to me, but neither does my mom.
29
Peyton
For the first time in my life, I hate Beaumont. It breaks my heart to even think this, but being in the same location as Noah and Dessie makes me long for the solitude of the condo or the active life of my sorority. The only positive is I can move about our former house with ease. Quinn thought it would be funny to, in fact, buy me the Rollator. It’s hot pink with a bell. I hate it, and secretly love it because it gives me the ability to move from room to room without having my parents hovering, hoping I don’t fall.
But being here makes it hard to escape. My mom has been going on and on about this wedding, mostly because my aunt Josie is stressed and my mom is trying to help her stay calm. With my mom constantly with Josie and my dad with Liam, I’m left to my own devices. I still can’t drive and can barely walk on my own which makes me completely dependent upon others.
There used to be a time when I loved sitting out on our covered porch. Back when Noah was in high school, my parents had a massive sign in our yard letting everyone know we supported Beaumont High and Noah Westbury. I look around now and see the names of kids Elle and I used to babysit, being honored by their parents, reminding me of how simple life was when I was in high school. I didn’t have to worry about anything and when I needed something, Noah was always there.
Quinn and Elle will arrive tomorrow. I don’t know if either of them are a part of the ceremony, and honestly, I don’t care. I’m not going. Even if I have to pretend I have the stomach flu or am in an incredible amount of make-believe pain – I’m not going. I refuse. Although, standing up when the minister asks if someone objects does sound like a fun way to ruin their wedding day. I’m not petty, even though I want to be. My parents would be shocked and I’m not sure I’m ready to explain myself to them where Noah is concerned.
Speaking of Noah, he’s walking up my front steps. I knew sitting outside on the porch was a mistake, and as much as I’d love to run into the house, I’d never make it.
“Hey, Peyton,” he says as he leans against the post with his hands pushed into the pockets of his track pants.
“Hey.” I avoid eye contact as best I can. I don’t want to look at his new haircut or wonder what it feels like to touch his five o’clock shadow.
“Your mom said you’re doing really well in therapy.” Noah sits down next to me but keeps a healthy space between us.
“I have a good therapist who doesn’t care if he’s killing me day after day.”
“He loves you. Xander only wants to see you strong again.”