Broken Promises

66 | noah

I wake to the sound of my phone ringing. I open my eyes slowly, running a hand through my hair as I look around my room before finally spotting my phone on my desk.

Blake is asleep soundly next to me, her head laying on my chest. I smile as I gaze down at her, memories of the night coming back to me. I gently rest Blake's head on my pillow as I rise from the bed, trying not to think about how good she looks in my shirt she sleeps in or how her underwear is strewn across my floor.

I climb out of bed and walk over to my desk, reaching for my phone. I don't recognize the number calling, though I answer the call regardless.

"Hello?" I say into the receiver, trying to be quiet. In my bed, Blake stirs and rolls over, which makes me want to climb back into bed with her and hold her until the sun rises.

"Is this Noah Reed?" a female voice on the other line questions, piquing my interest.

"This is he," I murmur, wondering who I'm talking to and what their reason is for calling. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Clara, and I'm calling you from Covington County Hospital," the lady explains.

My thoughts run wild with the word hospital. My heart races as I try to remember if I heard Dad and Caroline come home yet, not able to conjure an answer through my panic.

"Is everything okay?" I manage to ask.

"I'm calling to inform you that your mother Jo Underwood has been admitted into our hospital as of a few minutes ago. We've already contacted your father with the news."

My heart stops beating. I can feel the air flowing out of my lungs, making it hard for me to breathe. My throat constricts. I can hardly think straight, focusing on one thought that circles through my mind on repeat. My mom is in the hospital.

"What happened?" I question frantically. "Is she okay?"

"Your mother was in a car accident," Clara tells me in a measured tone. "She was hit head-on by a drunk driver just near the country line. From what I've been told, she'd in critical condition and was brought in unconscious. I'm afraid that's all the information I have at the moment."

"I'm heading that way now," I say, rushing around my room to gather necessary items. "Please hold for a visitor."

"I believe your father said the same thing," she tells me. "I'll update you as soon as I have any new information." With that, I hang up, unable to focus on anything enough to hold a conversation. I simply drop my phone and rush to grab my jeans from the ground, pulling them on as I try to think clearly enough to find a shirt.

"Noah?" Blake calls my name groggily from the bed, yet I'm too out of it to think much of it. "Noah?" she repeats, sitting up. "Noah, what's going on? Where are you going?"

"I have to go," I reply vaguely, still trying to find a shirt. And my car keys.

"Where are you going?" she asks again, sounding more alarmed than she did before. I'm not being fair to her, yet I can't think clearly enough to give her an explanation. All I can think about is the fact that my mom was in an accident. A drunk driver hit her head-on. She's in critical condition. She's unconscious. She's alone.

"Noah, what happened? Where are you going? You're scaring me."

"I have to go," I repeat, yanking a shirt out of my closet and hurriedly pulling it over my head. "I don't have time to explain right now. My mom was in a car accident. Blake, I—I have to go."

I spot my keys on my desk and I grab them, along with my phone. I need to go before it's too late, need to see my mother just in case she doesn't make it . . .

I'm heading for my bedroom door when I feel a hand tugging at the hem of my shirt, pulling me back. I turn and come face to face with Blake, her expression one of worry.

I can only imagine how she must be feeling in this moment, yet I'm too frazzled to concern myself with that. I'm being a douche, running out on her after having just slept with her, not bothering to give her much reason as to why. I seem like a guy who was only after her body, using her and then tossing her to the side once I got what I wanted. I'm acting like . . . like the Noah I'd been before I met her.

As much as I want to assure her that I'm not that guy any more—that I love her more than anything and I'm not going anywhere—I don't have the time. Right now, I need to get to my mother. She needs me. I need her. I can't lose her. I can't.

"Noah, what is—"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt, pulling out of her grasp. "I can't talk right now. I promise I'll tell you everything later. I'll call you. I just—I have to go."

With that, I turn my back on the girl I love and bound down the stairs to head for my car, ready to go make sure the first girl I ever loved is still breathing.

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a/n: how is it only june yet 2020 has already been like a decade's worth of awful