Page 89 of The Breaking Pointe
“I’m sorry, Steven.”I sigh, looking out the window beside us.“It’s harder for me than it is for you to display certain feelings.”
He scoffs.
“Fine.Wheneveryou’rereadytostopbeingastone- heartedasshole,letmeknow.Untilthen,Iguessyou’re just as bad as the man who raised you.” He shakes his head, tossing his napkin on the table as he pushes himself up from it, walking to the bathroom.
I want to not take that personally, but my experiences would never allow it.I’m only grateful it’s me who knows of such things rather than my baby brother. It’s clear he’s yearning to feel close to me. In a way, it’s unfortunate the potential he has to be right. Maybe I’m just as stone-hearted as my father was, and there truly is no hope for me.
* * *
When things don’t go as planned, or maybe not quite as expected, in my opinion, I tend to get the feeling that maybe I have some mental form of OCD. I spend hours hating myself for every stupid thing I may have said or thought about during the situation. I hang on to every piece of it that feels like a mistake or stands out to me as an error in my ways. It’s time consuming when you know that, truthfully, you can’t change the past. You can only change the path ahead of you.
Talking about it feels like I’m unleashing a demon, to put it plainly.
AfternotseeingNoellefordays,I’vefoundmyselfparched
of her presence—once again.It’s happening more often now. I can’t find it in me to stay away or try and make myself resist the urge to do so. I can’t gather any viable reason that I should. She finds a new way to impress me with her good nature, and I can tell she isn’t trying. She’s really that kind, no façades included.
Weeks ago, I was unsure of whether I could be trusted with the responsibility of making sure my mother wouldbe taken care of in her last days.I had no idea where to begin to prepare for such a thing.It was driving me mad having no plans, no thorough ideas, and nowhere to go for brainstorming ideas. As much as the doctors suggest what should be done, they’re lower than the bottom of the barrel when it pertains to helping families with a dying loved one. They can recommend any medication, but if you bring up actual assistance, well you better be ready to give it up to your nearest search engine to help you.
There’s no way to word it other than saying that I’ve been blessed with someone as educated as Noelle.
Putting a pause on my counterproductive dwelling is easy when Noelle is around. She makes me think of anything else other than what’s wrong and doesn’t force me to lay it all on the table for her. She knows exactly what needs to be said to make me gain clarity.Due to that, I know exactly what needs to be done to keep someone like her around—I’m simply conflicted about whether or not I’m ready for that.Once I jump, I can’t take it back.
After learning what Daniel has physically done to Noelle, I can’t keep leading with intent to do nothing in the end. She has fears and doubts that are obvious and warranted, but I won’tletmyselfbeanadditiontothoselists.Iwanttobethe
opposite. I would prefer to be the person she calls for help. Something she couldn’t do with Daniel, but something she deserves.If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.And though my jealousy has correlated with my insanity in the past, my jealous rage is different now. I would never control her that way.
But I don’t want her to be with anyone else.I’m feeling greedy and selfish this time.I don’t want to share, and I don’t want to see another man benefiting from what comes with being around someone as bewitching as she is.If I feel undeserving, I know damn well that no other guy is deserving.
Walking into the coffee shop, I immediately make eye contact with Annie wiping tables. The motion of her hand slows down more and more as I get closer until I approach the bar.
“What’s that?” She points to the round, plastic container in my hand that secures a fresh kale salad.
It’s been well over a month, but I recall Noelle buying this salad from a nearby mini mart twice.Both times she expressed that it’s become a favorite of hers. Since I finally have an evening free, I figure it’s a perfect time to bring her one and give myself an excuse to see her magnetic, green eyes and watch her riveting, long legs serve me some crazy delicious coffee.
“Kale salad for Elle. She around?” I ask, not yet ready to sit.
“She’s in the back. Grabbing cups or something like that.” She nods, looking at the time.“It’s almost closing time, anyway.
“I’m gonna grab her and get stock together.”She walks
to the back, her voice fading away with her.
I sigh quietly and walk farther into the shop, staying close to the bar. Suddenly, two slim hands slide around me, trapping my torso in their grasp.
“What are you doing here?” Noelle squeezes me, walking to the front of my body.
“You said you haven’t eaten today.Thought you might want a salad,” I state, holding it up to her eye level.
She looks at it, then at me, licking her pink, plump lips and taking it from me. She sets it on the bar counter as she looks around.
“Come with me.”She takes one of my hands,yankingme in the direction of a closet, nearly running into it as she fumbles to get it open.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around in a similar manner to her, nervous now.
“Be quiet and follow my lead.Trust me,” she says, getting the door open and pushing me in first.
She pulls the door shut behind us and locks it, leaving me to observe the room for a few seconds. It’s a storage closet, not too small, but not the biggest, either. Enough for us and an unholy few centimeters between us.
