Don't Let Go

I sat in my car on the other side of the building, hiding again like a big fat coward. I’d made it through an entire day post-almost-sex-with-Noah, but that wasn’t saying much considering I’d never left my house or my make-out clothes.

It was Monday. A new day, a new week. Showering today had stripped my armor and my courage, and so while I’d come in early to hopefully avoid him, and checked out the front to make sure his truck wasn’t there yet, I still felt the need to sit there and recharge.

“Grow up, Julianna,” I said, blowing out a breath.

I got out and smoothed down the dark green sweater dress I’d worn—just in case paths might cross after all. Because in all my determination to avoid him, I was supremely twisted in my need to look hot. For my ex-boyfriend that I’d turned away while still needing him to see what he was missing.

Women are messed up.

And as I rounded the corner of the sidewalk I nearly sucked my tongue down my throat as Noah and Shayna got out of his truck, parked right in front of my damn door.

“Shit—son of a bitch,” I muttered, fighting the urge to turn around and run back to my car. But we were only twenty feet apart, and the heeled boots I’d just had to wear gave me away.

They both turned. Shayna with a smile and concern and already moving in my direction. Noah, looking like he’d just been hit with a stun gun. He stopped where he stood, his eyes glazing over. That was his way, and how it would be for us going forward. Protection by way of shutting down. Boy, the next twenty years were going to be a real riot.

Damn it, if I’d just not been such a wuss and gotten out of the freaking car when I got there.

Look away. Look away. Don’t make eye contact.

“Hey,” Shayna said, reaching me as I got to my door. She grabbed my hand in her gloved one. “I heard about everything, Jules, I’m so sorry.”

Everything? I sincerely doubted that. She wouldn’t have been holding my hand if she had. She’d be breaking my fingers.

“Thank you, it’s—it’s all okay now.” Which was a lie. Nothing was okay. Things might very well never be okay again.

Shayna reached back for Noah and pulled him from where he’d taken root in the concrete. I saw him shove his hands into his leather jacket pockets.

“Noah said you were really upset, Jules, I’m so sorry I told you like that. I didn’t know—”

I was already shaking my head. “No, no, not at all, Shayna, you didn’t do anything. And thanks to you I have pictures now.” I smiled at her. “It was a rough day, yes. But something very precious came out of it.” I pressed a hand against my stomach and held my chin up. “It’s a day I’ll never forget.”

I heard a sharp exhale come from him, and he coughed to cover it. “I’m going in, Shayna,” he said, his voice sounding tired. Like maybe he didn’t sleep either. “Glad you’re feeling better, Jules.”

At my name, my gaze shot up to meet his. In that one second, he faltered. I saw the rawness of our connection before the walls came back and locked into place. I blinked and jerked my eyes away.

And saw Shayna staring at him, her eyebrows slightly pulled together like she was studying a painting.

“Y’all have a good day,” I said quickly, turning to unlock my door before anyone could study anyone. “Shit,” I whispered under my breath as I pulled the door open and slipped inside.

The quiet darkness enveloped me, and I let it. I walked farther into the dark of the store, away from the invasive light of the windows, and sank into a soft chair. I’d forgotten how much I loved that—getting there before Ruthie and just soaking up the quiet. I’d let her open up for—I didn’t even know how long it had been. It was never an official decision, it just sort of became the norm.

I felt it, the heaviness of the days. The strength of will I was going to have to muster. I should have never let myself go there with Noah. God, what was I thinking? There was no ignoring him now. Just seeing him on the sidewalk had made my knees weak. How the hell was I supposed to go about daily life?

The door jingled, making me sit up.

“Jules?” Ruthie’s voice called out. She sounded wary and a little concerned.

“I’m here,” I said, swiping under my eyes as lights started powering up. I hadn’t even realized I’d teared up, but hell, of course I had. That’s all I did anymore.

I knew I had some hell to pay with her, too. I’d left to bring books to the library on Saturday and never came back, never checked on her chair, leaving her with cryptic texts that I was okay but out till Monday. She was going to string me up. And not for taking a day off.

“You’re here early,” she said, rounding a bookshelf to find me. “And what the hell is up?”

I laughed. “Oh—so much to tell you, so few days left in the year.”

“Summarize,” she said, a hand on one hip.

“My mother was the Antichrist, she hid photos of my son right under my nose, gave them to Johnny Mack in a secret alliance, his name is Seth, Becca knows about him now, Shayna and Noah are only together because she’s pregnant, and I nearly slept with him.”

I saw her eyebrows raise. “Holy fuck. All that in two days?”

“One,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Yesterday was a recovery day.”

“Jesus, how do you nearly sleep—”

Her words were cut off by the door jingling again, and we both leaned over to tell whoever it was that we weren’t open yet. But it wasn’t a customer.

“I’m sorry,” Shayna said, rapping her knuckles on the open door for additional warning.

I was on my feet in an instant. “No problem, what’s up?”

“You—need to come over there,” she said, pointing at the wall between the diner and me. Her face was as white as a sheet, and her eyes looked glassy, even though she smiled. “To the diner. You need to come with me.”

I frowned and little alarm bells went off in my head. Was it a showdown? Did she know? Or was it something else? Something about her expression was very, very off.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, already walking forward.

“Just—” She turned and held open the door.

“Shayna, what’s the matter?” I said, cold fear creeping up my legs.

Ruthie linked an arm with mine and walked out with me, probably getting the same sense of not-right. We followed Shayna, watching her take a deep breath as she pulled open the diner door for us.

Ruthie held my arm tighter as we entered, ever the protective one. But I searched Shayna’s face as we passed her. Looking for signs of what we were walking into so I could layer up more walls. I steeled myself for Noah, knowing at the very least he’d be part of the equation, but I didn’t see him right away. Customers were milling, but that was it. Not even Johnny Mack or Linny was in sight. I frowned and looked back at Shayna.

“What’s going on?”

“In the back,” she said.

“In the back?” I echoed, my feet halting of their own volition. I hadn’t been behind the kitchen since before Noah left town. “I don’t go in the back, Shayna.”

Undeterred, she walked past me and grabbed my hand, dragging me behind her.

“What the hell?” Ruthie muttered, balking, but I tightened my grip on her. Wherever I was going, she was coming too.

Shayna pulled us through the kitchen to a back hallway, where I knew a break room similar to mine existed. Next to the office. She pushed open a door that wasn’t completely closed, and I heard voices. Laughing voices, and Linny sniffling. Johnny Mack’s wheezy guffaw.

When we entered, all heads turned to us. Linny’s eyes were red, as were Noah’s, but the glazed-over look was gone. He was nothing but exposed emotion. He looked like me a couple of nights prior.

Johnny Mack’s expression changed slightly, from gleeful to cautious.

“What are they doing here?” he asked. Not as mean as before, I noticed. Just a question.

Noah shook his head. “No—Jules should be—” He looked at Shayna with immense gratitude. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Her eyes watered, and my stomach knotted at the clear intimacy between them. I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t want to be around him or them or any of this.

“I have no idea,” I said, letting go of Ruthie and crossing my arms over myself. “Why are we here?”

Just then, the door from the bathroom opened, and another younger man stepped out. All eyes went from us to him, and he looked around a little nervously under the weight of the attention. He had a polite smile, if slightly standoffish. His dark hair was cropped short, his eyes were dark blue, and when they landed on me my heart slammed against my ribs.

“Sweet Jesus,” I whispered.

I’d know him anywhere. Even though I’d only seen him in pictures the day before yesterday, and in person when he was only minutes old.

Noah’s hand was on my back, pulling me with him.

“Jules, meet—”

“Seth,” I finished with him, the sound barely registering in the room.

• • •

The cry came at the end of my own, and it was like something out of a movie. My wail of pain and release that melded with the angry scream of something pulled from comfort into bright light and cold.

It was beautiful. It was horrible. It was over.

“It’s a boy.”

The doctor’s voice was remote, as if he already knew this wasn’t your normal happy delivery. There were no congratulations. Through a haze of pain I started to panic. To second-guess. What had I done?

“Wait—” I breathed, but no one heard me in the ruckus.

“It’s a boy!” Noah yelled, fist-pumping the air. “Yes!”

He was crying and laughing at the same time, kissing me, standing up to stare in awe at the creation I hadn’t seen yet, and then kissing me again.

“A boy,” I echoed, my voice scratchy and raw from the screaming. I tried to sit up or move to see him but my body wouldn’t work. Damn epidural. I felt the burn of tears at the back of my throat as the frustration began to seep through my skin.

“You did it, baby,” Noah said, over and over. “You did it.” He laughed again. “Nearly broke my damn hand but you did it. He’s beautiful.”

“He’s—” My voice broke and I squeezed his hand as hard as I could to get his attention. My baby’s cries were ripping at my insides. “Noah, I need to see him.”

“You will, Mommy,” he said, his blue eyes dancing with so much love it broke my heart. He moved the sweaty hair from where it stuck to my forehead. “Be patient, they’re doing their thing.” He kept looking over to the table. “God, he’s amazing.”

“We’re cleaning him up,” said a nurse to my right.

I reached for her with my other hand and gripped her arm as if it were the only thing holding my sanity together. “Please,” I said, begging her with my eyes. “Please.” My voice cracked and fresh hot tears burned tracks down my cheeks.

The woman’s eyes went soft. Compassionate. Oh, God, she was going to help me. She patted my hand and placed it back on the rail as she nodded. I watched her face as Noah rambled in my ear about names and baseball and bicycles, lifting my head with great effort to watch her speak to the other nurse and doctor tending to my little boy.

Impatience lined the doctor’s face around the mask as he turned back to look at me, but my angel nurse put a hand on his arm and said something else. Whatever it was made his expression relax, and my heart jumped as he nodded.

Noah’s voice brought me back to him as he wiped my tears. “Don’t cry, love, the hard part is over. We’ve got this.”

We’ve got this. I met his eyes. They were so happy. So intent on making this happen. On being a family. “Noah—I’m—” I couldn’t finish. My hot tears built to sobs that shook me from head to toe, and I had to look away from him.

“Jules, what’s wrong—look, here he comes!”

The angel nurse appeared at my right, holding a bundle of screaming redness wrapped in a blue blanket. Her badge said her name was Courtney. And Courtney had tears in her eyes.

“I have to hold him,” she said. “But you can look.”

I’d always thought newborn photos were hideous. They always looked like little alien creatures, and I never understood why anyone ever thought those babies were attractive.

Mine was beautiful. He had a head full of dark hair and his face was all scrunched up, mouth trembling, bare little gums gleaming in the light. He was the most gorgeous alien I’d ever seen. I was in love. I lifted a hand and ran my fingers tentatively along his cheek, on skin so velvety I almost couldn’t feel it. “Oh, my God,” I whispered. “My baby.”

I was in love with my little boy. And my heart stuttered in my chest.

“I can’t—” I gasped. “I can’t do this.”

Noah didn’t hear me. He was crying and kissing my hand. “I love you, Jules,” he said, his voice shaking. “I love our new family. God, he’s so—”

My mother’s voice resonated outside the door, breaking through my baby’s cries. The door opened then, and she was there, loose untied scrubs hanging on her and a mask held to her face.

Oh, God, I’d forgotten about my mother. Evidently someone had called her. By the look on Noah’s face, it certainly wasn’t him. And the look on her face as her eyes landed on the baby made my skin go cold.

“No,” I said, instinctively wanting to shield him. From her, from me, from all that was about to go down. He wasn’t going to know me. Oh, my God, he would never know me. What the hell did I do?

“What are you doing?” she said, looking at Courtney. “I had instructions not to—”

“Mom, no!” I croaked. “I need to see him!”

“Let her hold him,” Noah said then, his tone different. Wary. Protective.

Courtney looked from Noah to my mother, but not back to me. “I’m not supposed—”

“You weren’t supposed to even do this,” my mother said, rounding the end of the bed. “It’s cruel.”

“I’m sorry,” Courtney said, backing up with the baby. “She just wanted to see him.”

“Let. Her. Hold him,” Noah repeated, his voice strong in the room. “She’s his mother. I’m his father. Let me hold him.” I tore my eyes away from my son to focus on Noah’s face. His eyes were narrowed on my mother. “You weren’t invited in here.”

“Noah,” I said.

“This isn’t your business,” he continued. “This is our family.” He turned back to Courtney, who was slowly walking back to the doctor and nurse, cooing at our crying infant. “Why can’t we hold him?” Noah stepped in front of her, holding out his arms to take him.

“Because he isn’t yours,” my mother said.

Noah started as if he’d been slapped. “What?”

“No!” I cried. “Mom, look at him!”

“What do you mean, he’s not mine?” Noah said, his voice clipped.

Mom ignored him, looking away from his glare. “Julianna—that doesn’t help anyone.”

“Look at him!” I screamed.

Reluctantly, she blinked rapidly and turned to peer upon my son. Her grandson. Her family. Slowly, the hand that held the mask to her face lowered, and I saw the quivering in her mouth. I saw her eyes fill. I saw it. There was hope. She’d fix it. She’d tear up the—

“He’s beautiful,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically unsteady. Slowly, she turned back to me and whisked tears off her cheeks before they could render her weak. “He’s a beautiful boy, sweetheart. You gave him life. Now it’s time to say good-bye.”

“The hell it is!” Noah said, spurred into motion. “That’s our son.”

“No!” I cried again as the other nurse opened the door and Courtney walked through it. She looked over her shoulder before she disappeared, compassion filling her eyes. “No, wait!” I couldn’t catch my breath, it was coming in gasps.

Noah surged toward the door and the doctor blocked him, holding him in a full body hold as Noah turned into a charging bull.

“You can’t take my son!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and tinged with panic. “What the hell are you people doing?”

“I changed my mind—Mom, I changed my mind. Go fix this. Tear it up. Tell them it’s off, we’re gonna—”

“Changed your mind?” Noah said, spinning around as if he’d been shot. “Changed your mind about what? Tear up what?” He was shaking his head in disbelief, and my mouth couldn’t form the words. “I didn’t sign anything,” he said slowly.

“You’re not of age,” Mom said.

He stared at her for a long moment before dragging tortured eyes back to me. “We talked about this, Jules. We—we—settled this.” The shock and realization and horror settled into his face, looking exactly like I felt. “What did you do?”