Marsh loomed over him, fists clenched and breathing labored.
“Oh my God! Noah!’’ The front screen door slammed open and shut, and his mother ran down the steps. She crouched next to him on the ground, her worried face hovered over his.
Noah held his hand to his nose and came away with bloody fingers. “I’m okay, Mom.”
“What the hell is going on here?” His mother shot to her feet and glared at Marsh. “What is wrong with you?”
“That boy is a disrespectful liar.”
“That boy is my son!”
Marsh’s hand began to shake. “You’re coddling him. You always have.”
“And you’ve treated him like a no-good loser!”
“I’ve tried to treat him like a son.”
To Noah’s shock, his mom got in Marsh’s face. “You’re not his father!”
“Really? Because I’ve spent far more time raising him than anyone else. Including you.”
“Hey!” Noah rose on woozy feet. “You can say whatever you want to me, but do not talk to her like that.”
The door banged open again as Zoe ran out. “What the hell is going on?”
His mom’s hands shook at her sides. “I need you to leave, Marsh.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“No. I need you to go. Now.”
“Sarah, please.” Marsh’s voice had lost its bite. He was a man suddenly faced with the loss of something that mattered to him, and Noah recognized the signs all too well. Noah almost empathized with him.
“You will not talk to my son like this anymore,” his mom said. “I should have intervened long before now. Just go.”
Marsh’s face sagged. He backed up, hands digging into his pockets for his keys. Noah, Zoe, and their mom watched silently as he climbed into his car and backed out.
“What the hell was that?” Zoe demanded, trailing behind them. “Did he seriously hit you?”
“Come inside,” his mom said, tugging on his elbow.
Noah gently shook her off. “I have to go.”
“No. Not until I look at you and you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Noah followed his mom inside and to the kitchen, where she told him to sit at one of the stools lining the island. A timer began to shriek, and Zoe jumped halfway to the ceiling.
“It’s the lasagna,” she said. “I’ll get it.”
His mom went to the sink and dampened a wad of paper towel before returning to him. She dabbed at the blood beneath his nose. “I’m okay, Mom.”
“Let me fuss over you.”
He relented and tilted his head back so she could gingerly wipe the blood.
“Have you ever been punched before?” Zoe asked from the stove.
“Not like this. No.”
“I wonder if you should go to the emergency room,” his mom said.
“I’m fine.”
“I can’t believe he hit you.” Her voice shook. “What happened?”
“Just a lot of stuff that’s been boiling for a while.”
“What kind of stuff?”
He lifted a corner of his mouth. “The kind of stuff I shouldn’t have let boil over.”
She gave him a frustrated look before returning to the sink. She tossed the bloody paper towel into the trash can and then washed her hands. But instead of turning around, she gripped the edge of the sink. “Zoe, can you leave us alone for a minute?”
Zoe snuck a glance at Noah before quickstepping out of the kitchen. He had no doubt, however, that she was hovering nearby to eavesdrop.
His mom turned around. “He’s in love with me.”
Noah felt the words like another sucker punch to the face. “He told you that?”
“Years ago. I wasn’t ready for another relationship. It felt like a betrayal of your father.”
“Are you . . . with him?”
His mom shrugged with a heavy sigh. “It’s too late for that now. It’s been too long.”
“But are you in love with him?”
“He’s been here for me in so many ways. But the way he treats you, I . . . I think that has always been what held me back. But then you seemed okay with him, so I never wanted to intervene, especially after you turned your life around. I didn’t know how much tension there really was between you.”
“I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to burden you.”
“You’re my son. Nothing about you is a burden.”
Yeah, that was some bullshit. Noah had been nothing but a burden for a good five years after his father died. He rose from the stool and walked to her. Without prompting, their arms came around each other.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice thick.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
She squeezed him around the waist. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
“I put you through hell.”
“You were going through hell.” She pulled back and gazed up at him. “But it’s all over now.” She winced as she brushed her fingers over the spot where Marsh’s fist had connected with his face. “We need to ice this.”
“I’m fine, Mom.” He set her back and leaned against the counter again. “Hungry, but fine.”
“You should have brought Alexis. Why was the surgery rescheduled?”
Noah’s breath caught in his lungs. He tried to hide his reaction, but it was too late. He couldn’t hide much from his mother.
She tilted her head, concerned. “Is everything okay with Alexis?”
“Fine,” he lied, dropping another kiss on her head.
He walked to the cupboard to take out some plates. “You can come back now, Zoe,” he called.
Zoe stumbled in as if she’d been standing by the doorway the entire time. When Noah finally left two hours later, his cheek had stopped throbbing even if the bleeding in his chest hadn’t.
He pulled into his driveway and stared at his dark house. He could back out again and drive straight to Alexis’s house and beg her to forgive him.
But he didn’t. Because she wanted space.
Noah walked inside, grabbed an unopened bottle of bourbon, and carried it to the couch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Oh my God, what are you doing here?”
Jessica stared at Alexis when she walked into the cavernous zoning board room
