“You knew? You knew he told me I was no longer his son?”
“He told you that?” Josh reached forward and grabbed his shoulder. “No. He never told me that part. Only that he’d discovered the truth. Oh God, Noah. I had no idea . . . otherwise I would have told you what happened when he came to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Noah choked out, pulling away from Josh’s comfort.
“Mom had already laid into him by then. I think he hoped I’d take his side, but Mom and I both told him off for guilt-tripping you about taking medication for a documented medical condition. Would he deny insulin to a diabetic? Mom told Dad he’d forced you into it.” Josh’s voice broke. “And I made sure he knew I didn’t want this business without you. It was the McMillan Brothers or nothing at all. I think he realized then what he’d done. He said he was going to call you and apologize. The morning he died, he told me that he had. He said he’d called and told you he was sorry and he’d taken it all back.”
Noah shook his head. “I had a voice mail . . . I discovered it after I found out he died.” His voice cracked. “I heard his voice and I deleted it. I couldn’t bear to hear him berate me from the grave.”
Josh took a deep breath, tears in his eyes. “Noah, he swore to me he apologized. He must have done it in the voice mail.”
Pressure built in Noah’s chest.
“If anyone is responsible for his death, it’s him. He didn’t exercise or take care of himself. Maybe when he realized how much he’d hurt you, his grief pushed him over the edge.”
Noah leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. Could that be true?
Josh put his hand on Noah’s back. “He said he was going to call you and apologize, and that was a full day before his death. I guess I got so caught up in my own shock and grief that I never thought to ask you if he had. Plus you never mentioned it, so I . . . I guess I thought it was resolved. And I didn’t want him to hurt you any more than he already had.”
It was all too much. Libby. His father. He jumped to his feet, intending to run far, far away—where didn’t matter—but Josh stood and pulled him into a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Noah. I see things a lot more clearly now and I’m sorry I’ve been such a prick. You really came through with this Abrahams account, even after I treated you like shit. For what it’s worth, your job would have been waiting for you whether you brought in the account or not.”
Noah pulled free and shook his head. “I don’t know what I want anymore. The one thing I wanted most in the world is gone.”
Josh grabbed his shoulders, his fingers digging deep. “She’s not gone. You just have to fight for her.”
“I still think she’s better off without me.” He turned around and opened the office door.
“You two are perfect for each other,” Josh said, his voice tight.
Noah turned to face him in disbelief.
“I saw it the night of my wedding. I know Libby was with Mitch, but she never looked as happy with him as she did when she was with you. Megan and Blair didn’t get it, and honestly, I never tried to explain it to them because I figured they’d amp up their campaign to warn Libby off you. But I could see you were meant to be. The day you told me she was engaged, I think you might have misunderstood my response. When I told you to examine your own life, I meant it was time for you to realize you loved her. I worried if I told you straight out, you’d resist it. So I kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry for that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “God, I’m sorry for a lot of things, Noah.” His voice cracked when he spoke again. “Can you forgive me?”
Noah stared at him dumbfounded. He had no idea Josh was willing to give up the business if he wasn’t included. He’d spent the majority of his life feeling like he was failing his brother; it never occurred to Noah that Josh felt the same way.
Josh pulled him into a bear hug. “I love you, Noah. You think you don’t deserve happiness, but you are so wrong. And besides, did you ever consider that Libby is probably telling herself the same thing? That you are the happiness she doesn’t think she deserves?”
Noah broke free, panic welling in his chest and making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to be that man for her, but he’d screwed up after less than twenty-four hours of marriage. A zebra couldn’t change its stripes. What made him think he could be any different? “No. I’ll only hurt her in the end. More than I already have, and I can’t live with that.”
He jerked the door open and strode though the office toward the exit.
“Noah! Where are you going?”
He had no idea. He found comfort that he and Josh were mending their relationship, but in less than two weeks, Josh would be gone. Libby had Tortoise to run to, but now that Libby was gone, he had absolutely nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Libby! Open up,” Megan shouted. She and Blair had been pounding on the front door for several minutes, but Libby couldn’t bring herself to answer. Instead, she kept rubbing the head of her anxious dog. Tortoise—sensing her emotional crisis—had barely left her side in the week she’d been home.
“Libby, I know you’re in there. Please let me in.”
Megan was supposed to be in Seattle, so what was she even doing here? But she’d completely ignored her friends’ phone calls, so she wasn’t totally surprised.
There was more pounding, harder and more insistent this time. “Open the damn door, Libby St. Clair!” Blair shouted. “You live in the damn ghetto and I’m pretty sure I’m about to get shanked.”
“Blair!” Megan protested.
Libby climbed to her feet and moved to the door, Tortoise at her side the entire time. After releasing the deadbolt, she swung the door open, revealing Megan in jeans and a plum peacoat and Blair in her business attire—attaché case and all. This didn’t look like a friendly visit.
Blair’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly shut it and waved her hand in front of her face. “Good God. When was the last time you showered?”
Libby leaned against the doorframe. She couldn’t remember, but she didn’t really care. The yoga pants and T-shirt she was wearing had been intimate companions for several days now. “Go away, Blair.”
“Sorry, Libs.” Blair pushed past her and walked into the house. “This is an intervention.”
Tortoise hunched down next to Libby and released a low growl.
Blair stopped in her tracks. “Your new dog’s really friendly. Is it part pit bull?”
Libby’s shoulders stiffened. “He is a Lab mix. And you just pushed your way into my house. He’s protective.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you have some sort of protection in this neighborhood.”
“What do you want?” Libby asked, already exhausted from this exchange.
Megan followed Blair inside, eyeing the dog. “Libs. We just want to talk to you.”
Ignoring them, Libby bent over and rubbed Tortoise’s head. “It’s okay, boy.” Then she stood upright and headed back to the sofa, where she plopped down next to her nest of pillows. “Let’s get this over with. Say whatever it is you have to say, then get the hell out. I’m sure you feel vindicated.”