Page 72 of Return To You

Nick grips my shoulder and rasps, “I’m proud of you, Noah.”

I give him a half smile before returning my attention to Diego, and whisper, “Thanks, Dad.”

He squeezes my shoulder before paying attention to Diego again as well. I laugh as Diego accidentally hits Cameron on the head with the stick while Barnett is recording them.

“How are you both doing?” Nick eventually asks, most likely fishing at Mom’s behest.

I snort. “Real subtle, Dad.”

He shrugs. “I can’t be subtle with your mother on my case. We see you happy, but we’re also concerned. It’s been over a month since you gave her the ring, a month since she started to wear your original one on her right hand. Your mom’s worriedand, to be honest, so am I, or are you forgetting I was the one who pulled you back from the brink of alcohol poisoning?”

Nope, I definitely have not forgotten that. I had my stomach pumped after he found me laying in my own vomit.

Rose spent an hour crying when I told her how bad I had gotten without her. Now, I barely drink, and if I do, normally it’s half a bottle of beer with the boys before I switch to water.

I sigh and move toward the black couch on the back wall of the recording studio. I take a seat. Nick, my dad, the man who I look up to, sits next to me, looking at me with concern.

“Some days I think we’re good, great even….”

He ponders, “But?”

I groan. “She’s not letting me in fully, and no, I don’t mean with her body.”

“She won’t let you in her heart?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, she won’t. If I piss her off, instead of giving me hell like she used to, she’ll swallow her anger down, and walk away. It’s like she’s not willing to fight. I mean, her words are saying one thing, and her actions with the ring and shit are saying the same thing, but the rest of her actions, her body language, is basically saying she’ll never forgive me for leaving.” I run a hand through my hair and look at my son who has the biggest smile on his face. I whisper, “I’m doing everything I can, Dad, but I’m running outta ideas. I need her to shout at me, fight me, and show me her passion for us. I’m at her apartment every night because she refuses to stay at the condo. If I need to go to LA for work, she refuses to come with me, so I end up doing a FaceTime call. I just?—”

I cut my words off and look down.

My dad sighs and squeezes my shoulder. "You want her to fight for you like you're fighting for her….”

I nod, leaning my elbows on my knees, linking my fingers together as I sit forward. “I love her so fucking much, andthat’s something that hasn’t changed over the years. I mean, if anything, the feelings have only gotten stronger.”

Dad butts in again, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

I nod. “Exactly. But for us to work, she must also want to fight. I know I hurt her, and I know I should have faced my fears instead of allowing myself to believe that photo was real, knowing it wasn’t, I know I never should have cut her out of my life like that, and I’m being punished for it, believe me, I fucking am. I missed her whole pregnancy and the first year of my son’s life.

“The night feedings, the first smiles and crawls, rolling over, even his first word, so believe me, I am being punished, but it's like she’sstillpunishing me. She loves me—I know this—sheknows this, but to her, it’s not enough, and I get it. There is no relationship without trust, and she lost hers in me where her heart is concerned, but how am I supposed to earn that back if she’s not willing to let me try?”

Frustration builds inside, and the urge to grab a cigarette is strong.

I haven’t touched one since my birthday, but right now, I really fucking want one.

“It’s just going to take time, son,” Dad tries, and I groan.

“Time….” I shake my head sadly. “Two years without her, Dad. Isn’t that enough time?”

Shaking my head again, I lean over and grab my jacket off the back of the couch, going to the inside pocket where I hide my smokes, deciding to say, “fuck it.”

I’ll just use mouthwash to hide the smell.

I frown when the pocket comes up empty and pull my jacket over to me, looking in each pocket.

What the fuck….

“Yo Barn, did you take my smokes?” I call out, knowing he has one once in a while.

He frowns. “Nah, not lately. Besides, didn’t you stay at Rose’s last night?”

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