“Here’s your chance.” She slaps my ass and pushes me toward the door. “I’m going to slip out the back.”
“Hey, Charlotte?”
“Yeah?” she says, glancing over her shoulder.
“I always wanted a friend like you. No matter what happens today, nothing changes us. Got it?”
Tears fill her eyes, and she nods jerkily before walking out the back door.
With a deep breath, I tell myself that no matter what, we can overcome this, and I open the door.
Noah looks exhausted. His hair looks as though he spent the night running his hands through it, and there are dark circles under his eyes, no doubt caused by yours truly.
I have to shove my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie to keep from reaching for him. “Hey.”
“We need to talk.” His clipped tone leaves me feeling dejected, and I scoot to the side when he steps into my house.
Noah has a stack of papers clutched in his hands, and I don’t miss the small tremble rolling through them. My eyes roam up his arms, over his face, and toward his jaw, which is clenched tight, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to throw myself at him and beg for forgiveness.
Handing me the first piece of paper, Noah asks, “Is that you?”
I gasp when I see what’s on the paper—a photo from the first night I went after Mathis. He had called me, threatening to kill himself if I didn’t at least talk to him. “Yes, that’s me. Mathis called and—”
“And what about this?” he asks, completely ignoring me. “Is that you?”
My stomach rolls when Noah holds up a picture of me getting arrested.
Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.
“Yes,” I choke out. “But it’s not what it—”
He tosses another photo at me, and a sob rips from my throat as my own eyes stare back at me from a mug shot. “Were you arrested for drug possession?”
Tears well up in my eyes and all I can manage is a small nod. “It was the worst day of my life.”
“I bet it was,” Noah says. “I want to know what drug you were in possession of when you were arrested.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, a rush of tears falls down my cheeks. “They weren’t my drugs.”
He scoffs. “I bet they weren’t. Funny though, that’s the same thing Kim said to me after she got arrested.”
My eyes snap up at his hateful tone.
“Now answer the question.”
I stare at him, but it’s not my Noah I’m looking at. This is a shell of the man I fell in love with. He’s cold and angry and hurt, and I should’ve been honest from the beginning.
“Cocaine and heroin.”
When Noah flinches, my knees buckle, and I have to reach for the back of the couch to keep from falling over.
“Noah, please, let me explain.”
Vehemently, he shakes his head, and for the first time since he walked in the door, I see emotion in his glossy eyes.
“I trusted you, Lennon. I brought you into my home, into my life—into my daughter’s life—and into my heart. Because you’re here.” He places a fist over the left side of his chest. “You’re in my heart. How the hell am I supposed to get you out?”
“You’re not.” I shake my head. “Don’t get me out. I can make this right, I promise. You just have to give me the chance to explain.”