Page 63 of Red Zone Realizations
I chew slowly before asking, “Are we going to talk about it?”
“It’s perfectly acceptable for a grown man to prefer chocolate chips in his pancakes. Just because I’m an adult doesn't mean I have to settle for fruit pancakes like you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” I shoot him a look. Part of me is relieved that Noah is leveling the tension with a joke, making things feel normal. “I meant what we are now.”
“Boyfriend and girlfriend.” Like the answer is written on the walls, plain as day for anyone to read. He shoves a huge bite of pancake into his mouth.
“What does that look like, though?” What about my business? What about his travels?
“We spend all our time together when I’m home.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand again. “You’ll have a seat waiting for you at every home game, and I want you on the field before the game starts like the other WAGs. I’ll buy you a plane ticket to any away game you want to go to. I’ll make sure you stay in the same hotel as Chrissy.”
“I’d like that.”
His green eyes pour over our connected hands. We rest here for a second, soaking in each other. The whole world is starting a new week, but we’re just here. Together.
“What are you going to say to Sarah?”
“Things I should have said years ago.” I can tell Noah doesn’t fully understand.
“Do you want me to be there?”
I shake my head. “No, this is something I have to do by myself.” I pause, considering. “But if you want to drop me off and pick me up, just in case things go south, that would be nice.”
Noah’s smile is huge. “Even though this is your battle, I want to be there for you.”
I push back from the table, picking up my plate. “That’s for another day, though. Today I want to pretend like we never spent any time apart.” Quieter, I say, “Like I never fucked this up.”
He rounds the table toward me and wraps me in his arms. “That’s the thing, Audrey, I was never really gone.”
“Last chance if you want me to come in with you,” Noah says, pressing a kiss to my forehead over the center console. “It sucks knowing you’re about to go in there and argue and I’m supposed to sit out here and wait. I’m like one of those women in old war movies who say goodbye to their husband at the train station, wrap their jackets closer, and decide to just get on with their lives.”
“I’m fine, Noah.” I know he wants to be there for me, but this is something I have to do by myself.
I step out of the car with my tiny Prada bag clutched like a sword. The gifts might have been excessive, and I don’t need labels, but the purse and jewelry feel like armor when I wear them, like a part of him is with me, giving me strength.
“Good luck. Not that you need it.”
I nod, using his words to mentally reassure myself. “Thank you.” And with that I shut the door, leaving Noah to watch me walk away.
I’m not sure why I picked Common Bond to do this. You would think I wouldn’t want so many shitty moments marring my favorite coffee shop, but it feels like an advantage knowing the layout of the battlefield.
I take my seat at a small table near the window. The table where I met Noah is open, but I figured I should pick a different one. I made sure I would be here before Sarah because#strategy.
I look up to see Sarah removing her bag from her shoulder and sliding into the chair across from me. There’s a terse silence between us, and the people-pleaser in me wants to smooth it over. I strangle that thought and hold out. I’m not going to be the one to break the silence. She’s in the wrong, and if she feels uncomfortable in the quiet she created, so be it.
“You could just Venmo me the money, you know.” I know she doesn’t see me in the light I would want us to be as sisters, but how did we get here?
The beautiful silver glint of my bracelet from Noah catches her eye and I take the second to say, “There won’t be any money.” Just like every other time, she doesn’t take me seriously at first.
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, sure.”
“No, I’m serious, Sarah. I’m done.”
Sarah leans forward as if daring me. “There will be if you want to keep gifts like that bracelet.” I lean forward to match her, resting my arms on the table between us.
I hold my wrist out in front of me, examining the jewelry. “I think my boyfriend is quite fond of gift giving, actually.” I look directly in her eyes. She looks different now. The youthful curve of her face is gone, replaced with one that’s fully adult. When did that happen? Do I even know my sister anymore? Have I even tried?
But I’m trying now. “What happened between us?”
