Page 149 of Aria

I couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment. “It’s crazy how it all came together. I knew I needed to change my life, but I had no idea how big everything would become.”

Noah flinched slightly.

He had been the biggest part of that change.

I brought the glass of water to my lips as the waitress returned with the beer, deciding to change the subject. “How is Rosa?”

A renewed twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he sipped the draft beer. “She’s doing great. She flew back home to Mexico shortly after I made a full recovery. We still get postcards from her.”

“She went back to Mexico?” Joy swept through me. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She reunited with an old flame and everything. She, uh… thanked you in one of the postcards.”

I was certain a look of astonishment danced across my face. “Really?”

“I actually brought it with me.” Noah reached into his wallet, pulling out a faded, folded-up postcard. “I thought maybe you’d want to have it.”

He handed it to me, and I began to read:

Dearest muchacha,

You were right. Mi Paco was waiting for me after all these years. Bendice su alma. El amor es el amor: “love is love.” It will always be waiting.

Wise words, señorita. My heart says gracias.

Rosa y Paco

There was a small polaroid photo attached of Rosa and Paco sitting by the ocean.

I didn’t know I was crying until my tears seeped onto the postcard and caused the ink to run. I wiped at my cheeks with the sleeve of my blouse. “Sorry for the waterworks,” I said with a sniffle. “I’m just so happy for her.”

Rosa must not have realized I’d left town if she sent Noah this postcard. She was probably unaware I had abandoned my own advice and given up on my one chance at love.

The thought felt like a blade to my already bleeding heart; a silent betrayal.

“She’s an amazing woman. I’m glad she’s happy,” Noah said from across the table. He was studying me again. He looked to be searching for the perfect words as his eyes scanned my face. “You look good.”

I swallowed, placing my hands in my lap. My nails were biting into the heels of my palms. “I feel good,” I replied softly.

It was the truth. I hoped so hard that Noah could see it, too. Maybe he would understand why Ihadto leave.

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

I gasped, recoiling at his words.

Oh, it hurt.

I knew it was coming, but it still hurt.

A new wave of tears threatened as I glanced up at the ceiling. “I am so sorry, Noah.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You just left.” His words were hard and sober, straining with emotion. “You left in the middle of the night with no goodbye, after we had just…” Glancing away, his voice trailed off. “I tried calling you for months. I tried finding you.”

Sorrow seized his expression, and I wanted to reach for him. My first instinct was still to comfort him. “I know,” I acknowledged.

“You broke my fucking heart, Combs.”

I closed my eyes as the tears fell.

---