Page 75 of Falling for Fury

“Just a charmer, I suppose,” I say between giggles. I also don’t really know how to answer that question. I can’t exactly say he makes me feel whole. Like he picked up every broken piece of me and glued me back together with his megawatt smile, gorgeous deep brown eyes, whispered sweet nothings, and those should-be-illegal forearms that wrap me up and hide me away from everything horrible. Also a magic penis goes a long way. I’m sure his sister really doesn’t want to hear about that.

Like he senses me staring between his shoulder blades, thinking about that goofy smile, he turns slightly to throw one at me over his shoulder, before he turns back to whisper something in his mother’s ear.

“Ergh, yuck. The way you two look at each other is gross.” She pretend-vomits and then smiles. “Truthfully, though, I am so glad he found you. I was worried for a while there.” That gets my attention. I snap my eyes to hers, which focus on the path in front of us.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he closed himself off after baba died. He stayed and helped, and I guess looked after us in some way or another. But my brother was gone.” She shakes herself, giving me some assessing side eye. My heart breaks for her because I know what it’s like to watch your brother’s heart break and then to lose him. “Anyway, he just hasn’t been himself. This week, yesterday and today… I feel like I can see my old brother again. That idiot who used to chase me around the house and hide my ice cream while telling every boy in school to steer clear or they’d lose their penis.” Her wistful smile leaves a pang in my chest. An ache that Noah never really grieved his father and probably still hurts enough to be distant from his family. Avoiding the reminder and the pain. “Thank you,” she says after a brief pause, finally making eye contact.

“For what?”

“For bringing him back to us. Not… like physically, because obviously he can just come by himself on a plane or whatever… I mean, like… mentally. I guess. I feel like that smile…” She points ahead at Noah, and I catch a glimpse of that gorgeous smile from the side as he and his mother talk ahead of us. “That’s all because of you. I have no doubt about that.” She unlinks our arms, slaps me on the ass before skipping forward and jumping on Noah’s back. The whole scene leaves me stunned and also in awe. Evie loves her big brother and misses him so deeply. It has my mind wandering to my own big brother. The pain of missing him growing ever so slightly.

Iris now walks beside me as Noah and E chase ahead, Evie on his back messing up his hair as they laugh at each other. “You wouldn’t know he is almost thirty with the way he acts,” she tsks, her words contradicting that proud smile across her face as she watches her kids.

“You did a good job with those two. Great, in fact. You should be proud. Noah is a good man.” She obviously doesn’t get the privilege of seeing her son often. I feel like she deserves to know he is out there in the world being a nice person and looking after hearts, mine at least.

“Thank you. I did do pretty good, huh?” She smiles proudly. She links her arm in mine, and the guilt from earlier comes back with a vengeance. “You know Addison, that boy loves you. And I mean big-big love. Lifelong kind of love. I just want you to always remember that.” I can’t quite make out her expression, but she seems concerned about something. Maybe worried I’m going to break her son’s heart. Despite the jealousy I feel over the way Noah has a mom that loves him this way, I can’t help but be happy for him. I wish I had the pleasure of meeting his dad. I can only imagine the kind of man he was to have produced someone like Noah.

That guilt is just hovering with an intensity now. I’ve only just met Noah’s family, and he is ditching time with them to come deal with my family drama. How will they ever come to like me if this is what they see of me on the first meet? I swallow my thoughts and words, unsure how to say any of it as we head into the restaurant.

Addison

The Uber pulls us up to the front of the house and I look out the window to my childhood home. In its day, it was the best money could buy. Still is grand and exuberant, no expense spared, and upgrades through the years as required. The property is just under four acres, three stories of weatherboard and stone, wrap-around porch, four-car garage, surrounded by green privacy. My parent’s way of saying, ‘look how special we are—we have money!’ Most people would feel joy, nostalgia, or contentment coming home. I know Noah had felt happy finally being in his home again. I could tell by the way his shoulders had relaxed the moment his mother held him. Me? I’m still stuck in the seat of the Uber, staring at the front door of my house with nervous butterflies flying laps in my stomach as the initial telltale signs of a panic attack rear their head.

“Addy, you okay, shortcake?” Noah’s voice is gentle. He has saddled up next to me, a warm palm on my lower back, his voice a warm melody in my ear. I shake my head to let him know that I am, in fact, not okay, because I think if I speak the words, those symptoms of panic I am trying to bury will explode out of control.

In for 6, hold for 2, out for 8.

Useless.

Unlovable.

Nothing.

I squeeze my eyes shut and blink the sting in my eyes away as I try to slow my heart and steady my breath. “Noah…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I… I can’t—” I know what’s waiting for me in there. Pain, drama, shouting, blame, guilt, rage. I can’t go in there.

I can’t. I don’t want to do this, subject myself to that. I can’t.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Say the word Addison. I will turn this Uber around in a second. We can go wherever you want to go.” I turn my head to look into Noah’s eyes and my breath is stolen from me. The sadness and the pain I feel in my chest is reflected back at me in his eyes. His sincere words are like an arrow to my heart, channeling a strength I had no idea was in me. No, I can do this. I control my own reactions. I can control whether I let their words get to me. Their thoughts and opinions. My rage doesn’t control me, it is my strength.

Your anger, your fury is so powerful, you could rule the world with that gift… you are the thing that helps fix that what is broken. You are not broken, Addison. Noah’s words come back to me, replacing all my doubts and worries, shoving them back down, encouraging me to believe in myself, be strong for myself, and love myself. Broken bits and all.

My expression changes from pain to determination, because I will get through this, and I will be fine and the world will not end.

Noah’s smile grows as he places a soft kiss on my lips. “There she is,” he whispers, and damn if it doesn’t add a spring to my step.

Here I am. In all my furious glory.

Noah holds my hand clasped in his as we make our way to the front door. Before I can even knock–yes, knock, because this place has never felt like home–Riley rushes out the door and squeezes me in a hug. The air is thick with the promise of summer and Riley’s skin on skin contact is making me clammy.

“Woah… uhh, Hi, Ri… What are you doing?” I try to sound playful, but I know this kind of hug. Hugging or any type of physical affection is unusual for Riley.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Her voice sounds somber, making my previous confidence falter slightly. Prickles of rage coat my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

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