But she’s right about the fact that Noah won’t know what hit him. It just won’t be the way she thinks it’s going to go down.
I see it in her eyes, in the spark that’s inescapable when I lock gazes with her. She’s a believer in happily ever afters and second chances.
This time for me.
I’m a believer too, just not for me.
As of right now, my main goal is to keep Noah at the restaurant long enough tonight to say what I want to say. To not have him leave the second he sees me. Even though I dare say my chances aren’t very good.
Not that I blame him.
I’ve tried putting myself in his shoes about five thousand times over the years. How would I have reacted if the roles were reversed? How would I react now?
Would I be happy to see him? Shocked? Disgusted?
Would I even give him the chance to talk to me?
So many different options that make my head spin and my heart rate pick up in sync with my nerves.
“Hey.” My mom grabs my chair by the back and spins it around before she crouches down so we’re eye level. “I think you’re incredibly brave for doing this. I know you’ve been carrying around a lot of guilt over how things ended with Noah, and I’m sure it doesn’t feel good. Guilt never does, and there’s probably a good reason for it. Your dad would be so proud of you.”
My dad.
Of course, she has to bring him up.
He’s one of the reasons I moved back here with my mom, to follow through with the things I’d promised him. To take good care of my mom, of course. But also, to not have any regrets, to right past wrongs . . . to do the right thing.
Why does it have to be so hard though?
“Now, let’s suck it up and get you ready. Just because you’re about to beg the love of your life for forgiveness doesn’t mean you can’t look like the goddess you are.”
“Ugh, Mom.” I sound every bit the petulant child I feel right now. “No one said anything about begging or love-of-my-life stuff.”
“I know.” She presses a kiss to my temple before pushing back up and spinning my chair once more.
We share a silent moment when our gazes meet in the vanity mirror. She knows how hard all of this is for me, especially my dad’s passing and making the decision to seek out Noah. It’s been over a year now since we lost Dad, but oftentimes, it still feels like it was just yesterday. And I know that bringing him up pierces her heart a little every time too.
Things have slowly gotten better for us over the last few months. We’ve actually shared several moments where we laughed together about a memory of Dad instead of being sad. Those moments still don’t happen often, but they’ve definitely become more frequent.
The bathroom door flies open and Francesco blasts in. He’s been my mother’s best friend for as long as I can remember, making him like an honorary uncle before he became my real one by marrying my mom’s brother.
I feel like there’s an uncle joke somewhere in there.
Either way, I love him, both of my uncles, and I missed them like crazy after we moved. Thank goodness for video chatting, and their love for road-tripping down the California coastline.
“Ciao, bella. Look at you, Chloe. I knew the lavender hair would look gorgeous on you. I officially approve.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in that familiar way, even though I haven’t seen him as often as I’d like in the last decade since my parents moved us from Northern to Southern California practically overnight.
“Thank you. I’m glad Eadie talked me into it this week.”
“Me too.” He shares a look with my mom before glancing back at me. “If that boy isn’t nice to you, I’m sure I know a few guys who’d love a shot with you.”
My mom shakes her head at me while I grin. Francesco tried to set me up with one of his nephews once when I was a teenager. That was before he and Uncle Cody became a thing and then . . . well, then, Noah happened.
Which brings me back to what he just said. “You know I’m not looking for anything. I just want him to know the truth.”
Francesco purses his lips and nods. “Uh-huh, sure. Have you seen that man lately? I’m not sure you’ll be able to help yourself. Especially with all of those feelings still involved too.”
My ribs tighten, and I shake my head. “It’s been ten years since we were together, so there definitely aren’t any feelings anymore. For all I know, he still hates my guts and will leave the second he realizes it’s me.”
My mom tilts her head. “Orrrrrr he might not. Give him a chance too, okay? Sometimes it takes a little longer to make amends.”
It’s easy to hear my dad’s influence in my mom’s words. They did a lot of soul-searching together after my dad was diagnosed with stage four prostate cancer several years ago. It made it easier and at the same time harder for us to know there was no cure for him, and that he wouldn’t be with us for much longer.
The limited time amplified all of our relationships, and I’m eternally grateful for that bond we shared and will always have. Nothing will take that away. His diagnosis—and ultimately his death—changed both my mom and me. But in the end, it was also the major reason we moved back to Berkeley. I guess both of our hearts were still in Northern California.
Now we’re here . . . to start anew.
To be with our friends and family.
To try and mend old wounds.
Because how can you expect your life to change for the better, for your soul to be nurtured, when you don’t show someone else—someone you once loved—that you’re sorry?
Even when it’s not easy.
Even when I’m ready to pee my pants just thinking about facing Noah tonight.
Bidding on him during the bachelor auction wasn’t planned. At that point, I was still wondering how I’d actually get in contact with him.
But when the host announced Noah’s name, and the mysterious man—the one who rescued me from the drunken douchebag—walked onto that stage, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, what were the odds?
He stood up there, and the mask didn’t take away a thing from his looks. With his short brown hair, and a body built to beat competitors in the water, all wrapped up in a suit that fit perfectly in all the right places, I couldn’t help myself.
Without a doubt, he has turned into an even hotter version of his teenage self. I looked him up for the first few years after we left Berkeley, but when it entered an unhealthy stage, I had to stop. Seeing him in any form kept me from moving on, from trying to live a normal life. My unhealthy obsession—a deep and dark sadness—over my old boyfriend didn’t do me any favors.
Francesco snaps me out of my thoughts when he squeezes my shoulder. He hums deep in his chest. “No old feelings, huh?”
“What?”
He points toward the mirror and therefore, me.
At my wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Thank goodness they can’t see past the high neckline of my gray dress because my skin feels like it’s on fire everywhere.
Meeting up with Noah has been long overdue. Knowing we’re in the same city again drives my mind crazy, and I hope my thoughts will calm down after I see him.
And of course, I wonder if the glimpse I caught of the man at the party mixed with the memory of the boy I knew so long ago matches my wildest dreams.