I wrapped my lips around it, noticing the wetness from his mouth. It made me long to feel his actual mouth on mine. His eyes were glued to my lips as I inhaled and coughed.
Handing it back to him, I coughed again. “Thank you.”
Noah was amused. “What did you think?”
“Not for me.”
He chuckled.
We were silent for a bit and then he asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been looking at him funny. But I knew the answer.
“Because there’s so much I want to know about you, but I’m afraid you’ll chew my head off if I start prying.”
“You’re probably right.” He stared down at the cigar in his hand before he turned to me. “What do you want to know, buttinski?”
“Everything. Too much.” I sighed. “But for starters, why is a catch like you not married at thirty-four?”
“You’re assuming I haven’t been down that road already.”
My heart nearly stopped. “You were married?”
He looked down at his cigar, then up at me. “Yes, I was.”
Wow. “What happened?”
He blew out some smoke as he gathered his thoughts.
“Well, I could lie and tell you we grew apart because we got married young or some shit, but that wouldn’t be the only reason. The truth is…I was a selfish bastard who put myself first. I chose to travel half of the time instead of being home, and I didn’t give her the attention she deserved. She found what she needed in someone else. So, if that’s your definition of a catch, maybe you should reassess.”
Holy crap. Noah had been married. I was still trying to wrap my head around it.
“You’re formally divorced?”
“As of three years ago, yeah.”
“Do you regret how it ended?”
“I regret how I acted, that I was a shitty husband, but I’m not sure I regret that it ended. The experience made me realize I’m not really cut out for marriage, and she found someone who is. So it worked out in the end.”
“Do you still speak to her?”
“Do you ever stop with the questions?”
“No.” I grinned sheepishly.
He sighed. “Yeah, I just spoke to her today.”
“Really?”
“We’re friends. She’s remarried now. But she still checks in on me from time to time.”
“Well, that’s nice, at least, that you’re on good terms.”
“We’ve known each other a long time, since we were kids. We started out as friends. I suppose we’re ending that way, too.”
“Wow,” I said, soaking in everything he’d told me.
We sat in silence for a bit, and then I realized something. “We’re both in the same situation now.”
He lifted his brow. “You’re divorced, too?”
“No, what I mean is…you like to point out that I haven’t lived, that you’ve gone to college, traveled the world, and now, come to find out, you’ve been married. Our lives couldn’t have been more different—up until this point. Yet, here we are in the very same place looking at the same moon by the lake, both single and uncertain of the future. Don’t ask me how I know that about you—that you’re in some kind of limbo—I just do. We’re both in the very same place in life despite our past experiences and the years between us. Am I right? We’re not so different, Noah. We’re not. Maybe you were meant to meet me.”
He just looked at me and mocked, “So deep, you are.”
I laughed. “Asshole.”
“I see I don’t make you nervous anymore.”
“I’m not nervous at this point in time, no.”
“Good.” Noah stared into my eyes. Maybe what I’d said about us crossing paths had resonated with him. He seemed to be pondering something.
“What happened to your mother?” he finally asked. “Not that depression needs a reason, but how long has she been that way?”
Do I tell him? “My sister killed herself.”
It felt strange to utter those words aloud. This was the first time I’d spoken about it with someone other than my therapist.
A dark cloud crossed Noah’s face. “I’m sorry, Heather.”
“She was only twenty-five. Her name was Opal. She had some mental problems. She would act out when she wasn’t taking her meds. Sometimes she was okay, and other times not. She ran away from home when she was my age.”
I looked up at the night sky. “My sister was gorgeous, so it was scary to think she was out there on her own. We couldn’t stop her from leaving. We tried. But she was an adult. She originally left with a boyfriend, but they broke up. Then she just wandered from city to city, taking odd jobs when she was on her meds and could hold one down. We’d beg her to tell us where she was, but all she’d do was call from time to time to let us know she was okay. We didn’t realize how bad things had gotten until we received a call that she’d overdosed on pills at a motel off the highway in Connecticut. That was the worst night of my life. And my mother has blamed herself ever since for not doing more to make Opal come home. It’s why she’s so terrified of losing me. The whole situation just sucks.”