Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Half of those ideas were yours!” I scold.
He cackles. “Yeah, and the other half were yours.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how fast he’s growing up. I kinda forgot that he’ll need a man to talk to him about puberty and girls. He won’t want his mom to tell him what to expect.”
“You’re right,” Noah agrees. “But luckily, he has a lot of people in his life, though. There’s me, Tyler, and his grandfathers. He might’ve already had the talk with one of them.”
“You think so?” My heart races at the idea.
Noah shrugs. “Only one way to find out. Also, he has access to the internet, so it’s likely he’s already stumbled across something on his tablet.”
“Ugh,” I say.
I check my phone and realize I’m going to be late returning to work. Our conversation is all I’m gonna be thinking about for the rest of the day. If we’d restored our friendship years ago, where would we be today? I wonder if we’ll ever be able to get back to how things used to be or if we’ll always have this lingering what-if between us. “Shit, I gotta go. My break is over.”
“No worries, I’ll finish cleaning up here and look through your list for anything else I can do.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For sharing with me what you went through and why you acted the way you did. I can’t pretend to have any idea how being in prison was for you, but please know I’m here for you. I always have been. You don’t need to hide from me anymore,” I tell him sincerely. “Please, don’t push me away again. I don’t think I can survive it twice.”
Noah closes the gap between us and cups my face. He lowers his forehead and presses it to mine as our breaths entangle.
“You deserve the best, even if the best isn’t me, but I’ll never make that mistake again.” He pulls back slightly until our eyes meet. “I can promise you that.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NOAH
It’s been one week since Katie and I opened up to one another. Though I was nervous, I’m happy I gave her a glimpse of what I went through and how I felt. I think we’ve found common ground, and it feels nice for the truth to be out in the open. Understanding where her head and heart have been opened my eyes. Her feelings are valid, and I should’ve never ignored her while I was in prison.
The elephant that’s been sitting on my chest, smothering me for the past decade, is finally gone. I can finally breathe again, even if I’m not sure what our future holds. If all we can be is friends, I’ll take it, although it’s not what I want.
After Katie showed me all the ideas she had from her Pinterest boards, I started working on the pantry. It’s been five days, and she hasn’t noticed, so I’ll be excited to surprise her when it’s finished.
After I saw what she envisioned for the kitchen and how excited she was about completing it, I decided to focus there next. Katie has a lot of tools here, but she’s missing key things like a circular saw. Dad brought his tools over, and I salvaged some old wood and supplies I found in Katie’s garage. After I sanded and stained the wood, I measured and cut the boards, then got to work building her dream pantry. It took four long days to finish, and my dad’s coming over this morning to look at it before I show her. He has an eye for these things, and I want his opinion.
Dad calls to let me know he’s on his way.
“Hey, stranger,” he says when he walks in, then looks around the place. “I’ve always loved this house. It has character.”
I lead him to the kitchen. When he sees what I’ve been able to accomplish in such little time, his face lights up.
“I removed the cabinetry here and rebuilt the shelving. And look…” I reach forward, showing him the slide-out drawer I added at the bottom for storing pots and pans.
“Noah, this is incredible.” Dad flashes a cheeky grin. “You did an amazing job. And this blue color, it looks good.”
“Katie already had it picked out. She’s still deciding if she wants to keep the countertop or replace it.”
My dad runs his hand across the old linoleum that has a weird yellow tint to it. “I bet she upgrades.”
“Eventually, I’m sure. But at least now, she won’t have to pay someone thousands to build this,” I say, taking a step back to admire my work.
“It’s gonna hold a ton of food and storage. You could start a business doing this, son. Not everyone can whip up a pantry in less than a week with limited supplies.”
“I was highly motivated,” I admit, appreciating his genuine words. “I know how much it means to Katie to have this, and now she won’t have to pay anyone to do it.”