Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 34941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
"It's not like anyone's on the road," she mutters, but she reaches for the buckle anyway.
"Seatbelt," I repeat, voice low.
"Jesus," she says, buckling the seatbelt. "Okay."
"Good girl."
Noelle lets out a tiny, breathy gasp.
It's not even a ten-minute drive from the airport to my place, but the road is completely flooded, and the rain is coming down in sheets. We're both drenched, and I flip the heated seats on for the passenger and driver seats. She sighs in pleasure and settles back into the seat, reveling in the warmth, eyes closed.
I think she's asleep when I hear her voice, small but determined. "We need to talk about the other night. Why did you leave?"
I mull over what to tell her, teeth clenched with anger recalling Danny pretending to need help just to lure me out. I've been wondering if he would turn me over to the school board, but it'd be hard to prove anything, and he'd get in trouble for wasting time and resources if they couldn't find any dirt on me.
How do I explain to her that Danny was the reason I left without pushing her away from me again? The subject of my son is a touchy one, and it seems like every time she's reminded that I'm his dad, she pulls further and further from me.
"An associate needed my help." I keep it as close to the truth as possible without straight-up lying to her.
"Oh. Okay," Noelle says, but she doesn't sound satisfied. "In the middle of the night?"
"It's not important," I brush her off, hoping this will be the end of it. "I'm sorry I had to leave you."
Noelle turns toward the window and stays quiet. Finally, she says, "You couldn't even tell me goodbye? I felt so used."
"I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I just didn't want to wake you up."
"I've been feeling so confused." Noelle turns to look at me. "I was so mad at you for leaving like that, but I've also been missing you. So much, which makes no sense considering that we barely know each other. I thought I would feel better when I got home, but then the flight got canceled, and my Mom had to leave to make the drive to my grandparents without me..." I'm horrified when I hear her sniffle and realize she's crying softly. "Now I'm still just as confused and have no one to spend Christmas with."
My hands clench on the steering wheel. I want to touch her so damned badly, but I can't risk it with the roads the way they are. Instead, I turn the heat up even higher and say, "Don't worry. You're with me now."
She doesn't answer, just rests her head on the window and closes her eyes. My insides are all twisted up by the time we pull into my driveway, and for the first time since the airport, I see Noelle sit up with genuine joy on her face. I almost laugh because what she's so amazed by has annoyed the fuck out of me all month.
I live in a gated neighborhood, in a new, modest but spacious place that I bought without even really thinking about it. I just needed a place to stay, and I've always loved the area. Around us, a lot of the houses have tasteful, subtle Christmas lights hung up, but my place shines like a lighthouse beacon among them all.
It's not my doing, but for the first time since my niece hung the monstrosities up, I find myself happy to have them.
"Oh, Nathan, they're beautiful!" Noelle says, grinning. "You don't strike me as a Christmas light person?"
Through the rain-covered windshield, we take in the tasteful—if over-the-top—light display installed on my house, all warm white with touches of red and green here and there. "I'm not. But my niece is going to school for interior decorating, and I've basically let her have free rein at my place since I don't care much about that shit. I didn't know that also included seasonal decor, but when she showed up with all her holiday ideas, I didn't have the heart to turn her away. So here we are. A winter fucking wonderland."
"I love it." Noelle is one hundred percent genuine, her eyes glowing. "Your niece must be talented. It looks like something you'd see in a magazine."
"She is." Then I chuckle. "Wait until you see the tree."
"You have a real tree?" Noelle's excitement is contagious, and I find myself smiling and laughing more than I have in the past year combined.
"Of course. Why would anyone have a fake one?" I say, and then shake my head at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? When did I turn into this big, goofy sap?
Noelle is beaming, all previous sins are forgotten in the face of her Christmas spirit. "What are we waiting for then? Come on!"