“Any time.”
I smiled and slid the phone into my pants, then went back into the room.
The very empty room.
I looked around. Maybe she was in the bathroom?
Panicked, I walked out and asked the nurse where she was, only to have the nurse give me a funny look. “She was just discharged.”
“That fast?”
“We aren’t that busy today.” Her look intensified. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Just heartbroken, abandoned, pissed. “I’m fine.”
I tossed my coffee in the trash and made my way out of the hospital as fresh stupid snow fell all over me.
And I cursed Noah to hell for making it impossible to love the person he left behind.
Chapter Thirty-Six
KEATON
I needed to think.
And I couldn’t think with Julian around me. He wanted to wrap me up and hold me tight, he wanted to take away the pain and make it all better. And all I did was hurt him—because I didn’t know what to do.
I was pregnant.
With Julian’s child.
Part of me was overjoyed.
The other part of me was terrified.
Of the future.
Of what people would say.
And it stung that he was right. Julian was right. I was making it about me, not about Noah, but it felt like I couldn’t separate the two.
I hailed a taxi.
With every intention of going back to my apartment, but something made me want to go to his. Because his felt like home, because it felt like us.
The car pulled up in front of the modern building, and I was reminded of the night I went home with him, knowing how it would end, because I couldn’t stay away, because he was everything I hadn’t realized I needed in my life.
Snow kissed my face as I slowly walked toward the door. Barry waved at me when I reached the security desk.
He frowned. “You don’t look well.”
Do not cry in front of a relative stranger. “I’m feeling a bit sick. Is, um, Julian back?”
“Not yet.” He grinned.
I was just getting ready to walk past him when he called out after me. “Between you and me, I’ve never seen him this happy. I would do anything for that man. His piece-of-trash father did a number on him, but I always promised myself I’d hold my tongue when it came to Edward Tennyson.” He spat the name.
I turned around. “Sounds like you’ve known the family for a while?”
He nodded. “Used to work at Tennyson Financial, until his father fired me a day before I was going to retire, making it impossible to claim all of my retirement.”
I gasped. “That’s horrible! And illegal.”
“Eh, tell that to a Tennyson. It doesn’t matter anyway. Julian found out what his father did and asked me what I wanted to do. Didn’t give me money, just asked, ‘What sounds good?’” He shook his head with a smile. “Such a peculiar question, like he knew I wanted to keep working to stay busy. I think I said something like ‘Well, I love people, so being a doorman would be a nice fit, plus it would keep me semiactive.’” He shrugged. “A day later I was starting work in his building.”
I tilted my head. “His? Building?”
Barry gave me a funny look. “He owns the whole damn thing, owns another one in Hell’s Kitchen too. Julian has an eye for real estate. His mom, bless her soul, picked out colors for the apartments in her last days.”
Tears filled my eyes. “I wish I could have known her.”
“You got the next best thing,” he said with a wink. “He has a lot of his mom in him, Julian. He cares—sometimes too much.”
“Yes,” I agreed, nodding. “He does.”
“You have a good day.” He gave me a small salute.
And I rode the elevator in emotional silence thinking about what Barry had said. I knew all those things about Julian, but hearing the respect in his doorman’s voice almost made me feel worse.
Because Julian was everything.
And deserved better than the words I had said without thinking.
I typed in Julian’s code and the door unlocked, letting me into the silent apartment. I walked around a little bit, and then I went to the table where my laptop sat.
I opened it again, this time without shaking.
And I read the last few comments Julian had written.
Not being able to speak to you would break my heart—this would be difficult for anyone—he was very brave, wasn’t he? Letting you accompany him into death so perfectly, knowing it would leave you with a permanent scar.
I burst into tears until I couldn’t see the computer screen. It took a few moments before I calmed down and read the last few paragraphs Julian had written.
And then, with shaky hands, I typed my peace.
The love Noah and I had wasn’t fleeting, but it was different from the love I feel right now. Our love was new, exciting, undying. Meeting Noah was like meeting my best friend, someone who I would do anything for. Now that you know how we fell in love—I think it’s time to tell you how the story ends. You see, I thought I would write this book, type “The End,” then go mourn his life until I was sick with it. But he wouldn’t have wanted that. In fact, he was adamant that if he married me it wouldn’t be fair to the man I fell in love with next. “Your second love is always your true love,” he said. “Your first love is where you make all your mistakes, and I refuse to die knowing you wasted so many stolen kisses with me, when they were supposed to be his.” It’s like Noah knew the minute we found out treatments weren’t working, he was already letting go, he was already floating away, telling me in as many words as he could that it was okay. So I’m okay writing “The End” to our story because I know that’s what he wanted. He didn’t want me to tell our story because of him—he wanted me to tell it because he knew it would help me. He knew I would need closure to this chapter so that I could start another chapter one.