Two Weeks to Fall in Love

33. Two Weeks to Learn the Truth

Nervous didn't even begin to cover it.

I'd been standing at his front door for 15 minutes already. Still hadn't rung the doorbell. If he opened the door now and just saw me standing there like a silent statue, he was going to question my sanity. I was definitely questioning my sanity.

Taking in a deep breath, I steeled myself and rang the bell. The muffled sound echoed through the house, and within moments footsteps followed, getting closer, and closer, and closer...

Noah opened the door. My stomach dropped. His face was pale, the dark circles under his eyes made it look like he hadn't slept in days. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but it wasn't this.

"Hey, come on in." He ran a hand through his messy hair and stepped aside.

My legs felt wooden as I walked past him. Normally, I'd be gawking at his house – almost as big as the one the party was held, yet infinitely more homey – but now all I could do was stare into empty space.

Was he sick? Was my overactive thinking right this time?

I felt nauseous. My nerves had stopped me from eating a lot for lunch, but now it felt like even that little amount would come rising up.

"Want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? Juice?" he asked, leading me into a huge open space living room with a spacious couch.

"Just water is good." Considering how dry my throat felt, water was great.

Noah nodded and went into the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and close. My eyes stayed focused on the glass table in front of me, hands clutched together in my lap.

"Here you go."

A glass of water was placed in front of me and I muttered a thank you while downing almost half the glass. The couch dipped as Noah set down next to me. Silence stretched. I avoided eye contact.

"Look that bad, huh?" Noah said and I looked up at him instantly. He had a half smile on his face and was rubbing his nape with his hand.

"Yes. No! I just didn't expect–" I had no idea what to say or how to say it. "Are you okay?"

Dumb question. He was clearly very much not okay. It was the only thing I could think to ask though, because seeing him now, it was the only thing that mattered.

"I don't know. I should be used to it by now but..." He sighed and shook his head. "No. You never get used to it, I think."

Noah suddenly stood up, and started pacing next to the couch. He stopped, looked at me and frowned.

"Do you mind if I...?" He did a moving gesture with his hand and I shook my head.

"Not at all."

"Right. Good. That's good." And then the pacing continued. Several moments passed in silence before he stilled, as if he'd finally decided to speak.

"So, my mom's dying."

It felt like I just got punched in the gut. The oxygen in the air somehow felt thicker. Harder to inhale. My mouth opened. No words came out. It closed again. The entire english language simply evaporated from my mind. I had no idea what someone was supposed to say to something like that.

"I mean, she's been dying for years. Pleural mesothelioma." Noah looked to me and rubbed the back of his head. "It's uh, a type of cancer. Some days it's... especially bad." His voice sounded choked up.

My heart had never felt this heavy. I'd imagined a thousand things in the last two days, but this wasn't even close to what my brain had concocted. Suddenly, so much made sense. So many of his previous statement that seemed weird or unexpected crystalized in my mind. The way he thought about life and time and existence.