𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘀

𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨?
ɴᴏᴀʜ
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝘂

     "𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡," my name on her lips comes naturally. "Oh, Noah."

The soft sigh of my mother, yearning for me as I have had her for months twists the knife. I know there are a lot of things I feel, but it's all numb right now. And although I know this won't withdraw the grief I've experienced, for a moment, I put it all on pause.

I force myself to step closer while my mother comes around the table. We're standing face to face, and it's when I hear her sharp breaths and see the flecks of gold in her eyes that I realize this can't be a hallucination.

Her hand raises to touch my cheek, but she stops herself, offering the ball to be in my court. Her hand slowly falls, giving me the space to make the first contact. I get over the doubt in my head and lift my arm to graze her skin. The tips of my fingers brush against the back of her hand and I almost jump at the revelation that this is all real.

My mother is alive, and she's standing in front of me. And something as simple as sharing the same air as her suddenly feels remarkable.

"My baby girl," she whispers.

I give in completely, folding with the pet name, a subtle gesture of love I've missed. My hand touches her wrist, grasping it for a moment before moving to wrap around her back, my other arm doing the same to squeeze her torso. I rest my cheek against her chest, her sweater providing the warmth I've needed for months.

Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me just as tight back. Her cheek rests on my head, fully enveloping herself around me. I can hear her heartbeat knocking against my ear, her nerves just as evident as mine.

ᴇᴍɪʟʏ

Noah's body fits perfectly in my arms, just like I remember. Every day, minute, and second that I spent alone, waiting to get the call that would bring me back to my baby, feeling her in my arms was all I thought about. I daydreamed about the time we spent together, dreamt about her to remember every piece of her, and had nightmares about the grief she must have been going through.

And now, I can feel her heartbeat against me, the aggressive rhythm matching my own.

The past seven months have felt like torture, but this feels like the punishment for all the times I kept her in the dark. Seeing her confused and hurt kills me inside, knowing that I caused this. I went along with the idea of hiding it from her, thinking it would be better than knowing we were apart.

"Why did you do this to me?" she whispers against my chest.

A simple but desperate plea to understand what happened. A cry for help that I never expected. I was so focused on seeing her again, I didn't think about the possibility of her not forgiving me.

I shut my eyes tightly as my voice is muffled against her hair. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that to me? Why did you lie to me?"

"I'm sorry," I repeat, shaking my head as I feel the consequence of her pain. "I made a promise."

"What did I do?" she asks. "What did I do to make you all do this to me?"

I pull back, my hands finding her cheeks. "You didn't do anything," I firmly assure her. "This wasn't about not trusting you, it was about your safety just as much as mine."

Noah's head lowers and tilts to the side, her lips against my wrist. I can feel her chin quiver against my skin and I sense tears brewing at the sight of hers.