Page 57 of Noah

I stepped closer, carefully, watching for any sign that he wanted space. When he didn’t move away, I reached out, brushing my fingers against his wrist.

“Yeah. I mean it.”

He exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening. “I just needed time, Jackson. I needed you to trust me.”

“I know.” I swallowed hard. “I trust you. I just didn’t trust myself to keep you safe.”

His expression softened, and finally—finally—he let me pull him into a hug. He was stiff at first, but then he melted into me, his arms sliding around my waist.

My wolf let out a relieved whine, and I pressed my face into his hair, breathing him in.

“I missed you,” I murmured against his temple.

“I missed you too,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But next time, Jackson, just listen, okay?”

I nodded against him. “Okay.”

We stood there, wrapped up in each other, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could finally breathe again.

The peach cobbler was warm and sweet. I couldn’t help but smile at Noah as we dug in. He looked up from his bowl, still not fully back to the easygoing Noah I remembered.

At least there was a glimmer of the old him—the one who could joke, laugh, and be vulnerable with me.

“You know,” he said, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied hum, “you should always buy me peach cobbler whenever we fight.”

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing just a little.

“Is that so?” I teased, setting my spoon down for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind. Next time we argue, I’ll just head to the diner.”

“Magic cobbler,” he said, almost to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. That’ll do the trick.”

The fact that he was joking made my heart lighten, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. Maybe we weren’t as far off as I’d feared.

The fight, the distance, the unspoken things between us—they felt like they were finally starting to fade into the background, even if just for a moment.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Noah,” I said softly, my voice almost betraying the vulnerability I was trying to keep buried. “I’m scared.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, looking at me with curiosity. “Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” I admitted, my heart pounding in my chest. “Back at the dining hall, I really thought I screwed everything up.”

The look on his face softened, and he put his spoon down, setting the bowl aside. Noah leaned forward, and looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

“Jackson, you’re not losing me,” he said, “We’ve had our first fight. All couples fight. I’m not going anywhere.”

A weight lifted off my chest, but it was quickly replaced by the heavy truth that had been pressing on me for far too long.

I needed to tell him now, before this moment slipped away. Before I lost the courage to say the things I should have said long ago.

“Noah,” I started again, my voice more hesitant this time, the words feeling almost foreign coming from me, “I’ve known for a while. For a long time. I—I’ve known that we’re fated mates.”

His eyes widened just slightly, but he didn’t interrupt me. He didn’t pull away or react the way I’d expected, like he was going to shut down.

No, he just stared at me, listening, waiting for the rest of it.

“I should’ve said it sooner. But it scared me.” I let out a long breath, before continuing, “I think I was scared of how much it all meant. Of how much you mean to me.”

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