The Best is Yet to Come

Thirty Five: Emma

I wake up to the sounds of birds chirping. Gradually regaining consciousness, I lay still and listen to their song, enjoying the tranquility.

That's when I notice the crushing weight on my chest.

I open my eyes, confused and then it all sinks in. I'm in Noah's bedroom.

Memories of last night start flooding my thoughts and my cheeks burn from embarrassment. I can't decide whether I'm more embarrassed by what we did last night and the fact that I fell asleep after or that I proceeded to wake both of us up in the middle of the night with my nightmares.

I look down. Noah's left arm is flung carelessly across my body. God, he's heavy. He's fast asleep, snoring lightly in my ear. I choose not to look at him, knowing this will be easier if I don't.

I need to get out of this house before either Noah or Chris wake up.

I get up off the bed slowly, careful not to make a sound. I shimmy my way underneath Noah's arm until it slides off my torso and hits the bed with a thud. Looking around for my clothes, I see my pants dangling awkwardly off the shelf above his desk. My blouse is in a pool on the floor by the door and I find my bra underneath Noah's bed. But where the heck is my underwear??

I trace the floor of the room, checking by the dresser, behind the door, everywhere. I really don't want to leave them here for Noah to find later but I push the thought aside and focus on silently getting dressed. Remembering that my bag and sandals are in the living room, I cross the room to the door, pausing with my hand on the doorknob.

I knew I'd probably regret it if I didn't, so I turn to steal a glance at Noah, still peacefully asleep. My inner turmoil eats at me. I really don't want to leave. I want to crawl into bed and bury myself in his arms. I want to kiss his face awake and make breakfast together. Bitterness consumes me as I remember the look on Noah's face watching me by the door last night.

He doesn't want this, I have to remind myself. No one wants to deal with you.

With one last look at Noah, I carefully twist the knob and pull open the door.

"Leaving already?" I hear a voice behind me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Shit.

I turn slowly, my heart thumping, and see Noah leaning up in bed. His hair is tangled around his head, his eyes coated with exhaustion. My heart jumps to my throat at the sight of him but I forcefully swallow it down.

I was caught red handed.

"Were you really trying to make a get away before I woke up?" Noah asks, his voice husky. Clearly he could recognize the walk of shame which only adds jealousy to the complicated mix of emotions poking at my brain.

"What did you think that was going to accomplish? Did you really think I wouldn't come looking for you?" His tone turns hurt and I feel a pang in my chest.

I didn't want to hurt him. I was leaving because I didn't want to hurt him. Didn't he know that?

I quickly debate with myself whether it was worth the guilt to lie to his face. To tell him I was just going out for coffee and I was going to come right back. But lying to Noah didn't feel right. In fact, it felt even dirtier than lying to anyone else.

Noah continues to look at me from the bed, clearly waiting for my response.

"I'm sorry." Is all I can make out.

"Why are you trying to leave?" He asks, rising from the bed. He's wearing nothing but black boxers and his hair is an adorable mess on the top of his head. Like I needed anything to make this goodbye more painful.

"Is it because of last night?" His face is confused and he searches my eyes for an answer. It takes everything I have not to look away. Then I see a flash of pain cross his face. "Is it because I-"

"Don't." I cut him off. He's trying to blame himself and I can't bear it.

Noah crosses the room to stand right in front of me and I look up to meet his inquiring gaze. "Then why?" He asks, his eyes desperate. I can't ignore the suffering written all over his face. Why does he care so much??

And just like that, all rationality whips out the window and I realize I'm furious. Mad at myself for hurting Noah, mad for the memories I created with Noah last night that were going to torture me later and mad at Noah for... for... well, I just was.

And most of all, I was mad at the universe for putting me in this situation. This is exactly why I stayed away from people and lived my solitary life.

"Why do you even care?" I ask, and I'm surprised by my nasty tone. "Isn't this what you do? I thought girls were never graced with more than one night in Noah Dean's bed." I spit and instantly regret it.

If I thought he was hurt before, it was nothing compared to the face he made now. But like lightning, it was gone in a flash and I can see clearly when Noah puts on his mask. His features smooth out, his eyes turn cold and I see his cheeks tense when his jaw locks firmly in place.

"If that's what you think about me... about us, then maybe you should leave." He says calmly and I choke back the tears threatening to spill out.

I didn't want this. I didn't mean what I said. I wanted to take it back. I wanted him to hold me. He was so close, I could smell perspiration and the lingering scent of wood and spice. I just look down, too ashamed to look into his eyes.

I'd blown it. I had one good thing going for me... and I blew it.

Noah steps closer, reaching across the space between us and tips my chin up, forcing me to look up at him. I allow the tender gesture but I keep my gaze away from his face, refusing to let him see the moisture that has undoubtedly coated my eyes. I force myself not to blink, knowing that tears would fall and my bravado would be given away.

"Emma." Noah whispers, but I refuse to look at him.
"Emma, please." He begs and at the sound of his pleading, I screw my eyes shut. There was no way to avoid the tears now.

Noah engulfs me in his arms, and I remind myself he's only doing this because he feels bad for me. He saw my tears and he feels guilty. I was betrayed by my own body.

Even so, I can't deny how amazing it feels. He squeezes me tight and I bury my face into his chest, fully aware that I'd regret it later. The tears pour out now and it feels like years of tension are finally fleeing my heart. I cry for Noah, I cry for me and I cry for reasons I wasn't ready to admit to yet.

Noah just holds on to me tighter, whispering hushed words of comfort that I can't quite make out. This single handedly has to be the most embarrassing moment of my life but I'm too consumed by my senses to care. His shoulders are hard and smooth, his arms tight around my waist, and the sound of his voice is soothing. All of this just makes me sob harder, as I realize the truth:

That I had a new talisman in the dark; no matter how tough things got I could think of Noah, remember the sound of his laugh, the curve of lips when he smiled and I would instantly feel better. Thinking of Noah brightened up the darkness in my days and brought warmth into my life.

This terrified me as I imagined the suffocating darkness that would swallow me up when, inevitably, he decided to leave me.