“So you fix broken hearts, do you?” I ask. “Seems a little ironic.”
Noah Carter is one of the best cardiothoracic doctors in the country. He’s incredibly intelligent, funny, kind and he’s a beast in the bedroom. He has scars that drizzle down his chest and painful memories of an unforgettable night that plague his every waking hour.
Seven years ago, Noah stumbled upon me at the side of a grave and saved me in one of the most compassionate ways another human being can save another. I will always love him for that. Always.
He loved me in a way that no man has ever loved me since, and I gave him everything. I gave him it all until my secrets and lies tore us apart, forcing me to shatter his heart into a thousand little pieces.
Seven years ago he loved me, but now he hates me. And I hate that he hates me. Leaving Noah is my biggest regret in life - and I have a lot of things that I regret. A lot.
I’m Ariel Miller and this is the story of Noah and Me.
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I hear banging. I open my eyes to the continuing thump coming from the hallway.
“Oh, God. Yes!” screeches Ruby.
“I’m going to come,” a deep voice announces.
Bloody hell. I blink at the clock and see that’s it’s nearly two in the morning. What the hell is she doing? Or more appropriately, who is she doing?
“Fuck, Owen! Fuck, yes!”
Well, that answered my question. Jesus. Since when did she start making so much noise while having sex? I pull my pillow over my head and turn onto my stomach. My face is throbbing from where it was hit, but I choose to ignore it. If I think about how I got it, then I start to think about who gave it to me, and I’m not wasting any more of my time on him.
“Ruby,” Owen grunts. “Ruby.”
I scrunch my face up and bury my face into the mattress. This is really gross. I hear more knocking, but it doesn’t sound like it’s the wall this time. I pull the pillow from my head and toss it back onto the bed with a huff. I’m supposed to be getting up in two hours to go for my run.
I don’t believe it. Who is knocking on our apartment at this time of night?
I climb out of bed, smooth my white, silk nightie down and rub at my eyes as I yawn. Maybe it’s next door coming to complain about the noise? Oh, I hope so, I think as I pad barefoot across the floor towards the door. I’m thinking about how embarrassed Ruby would be and find myself smirking as I pull the door open.
I notice his sad, pale eyes and the weird expression on his face and my smirk instantly disappears. I fold my arms across my chest to cover up the fact that my nipples are poking through the silk fabric.
Noah stares into my eyes for a long time. Hundreds of conversations that we’ve had flutter through my memories, swamping me with images. I remember the first time he spoke to me and how immature and childish I was. I remember how his girlfriend had freaked out when she’d discovered us in his house. I remember the way I loved him, but then I remember how distant we are from each other right now and sigh.
“What do you want, Noah?”
He rubs at his temple and leans his forearm against the doorframe above his head. “I’ve sobered up,” he tells me.
I fake-smile at him. “That’s great. Thanks for knocking on my door at two in the morning to tell me that.”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I’ve come to say sorry,” he tells me.
I stare at him, hating myself for wanting to pull him into me so I can beg for his forgiveness.
“So say it,” I whisper.
He stops looking at the floor and locks his eyes onto mine. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I’m sorry I came to your apartment when I was drunk, and I’m sorry that you got hurt. It won’t happen again.”
I want to ask him if he’s sorry for saying he loved me, but I bite my tongue.
“Oh, fuck,” Ruby sniggers. She starts to pant and laugh at the same time. “Put it back in, put it back in.”
Erm, awkward. I look back up at Noah, who has suddenly found the dark blue carpet interesting. I can see the corner of his mouth pulling up.
“It’s Ruby,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I figured it wasn’t you,” he says.
“And Owen,” I continue. “He keeps telling her that he’s going to come.”
Noah smiles. “Yeah, apparently he sort of does that.”
“Does he apologise for doing it afterwards too?”
“I don’t know,” he says, nodding towards her bedroom door. “I’m guessing we’re about to find out.”
“Oh, God, I’m going to come,” groans Owen. Then he makes a weird noise that sounds like a constipated dog straining to empty his bowels.
I scowl at Noah, who belly laughs really loud.
“Shh,” I whisper. “You’ll wake my neighbours.”
“They’ll wake your neighbours,” he says, laughing. “What the hell was he doing in there?”
There is no way I’m putting up with that noise every night. “You’d better hope he likes one-night stands,” I tell him.
“Why, is she like you?” he asks quickly.
And that’s all it takes for the atmosphere to turn to ice again. He stares as if he’s reading me for a few seconds and then clears his face of any emotion. He’s back to being the Noah who doesn’t give a shit.
“I think you’d better go,” I say softly.
He takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, I probably should.”
He says it like he regrets that we had a normal conversation.
Beckie's real name is Rebecca, but she get’s called (and answers to) any of the following…Beckie, Bek, Becca, Rebecca, Pip, Pippy or Stevo.
Beckie is the author of 'Sorrow Woods,' the 'Existing' series and 'Noah and Me.'
She is due to publish more YA and NA novels in 2015/16.
She lives in Staffordshire, England, with her partner and two children.
Beckie likes putting music on in the house and dancing around like a mad woman.
When she isn’t playing with her children, doing housework, dancing around the house like a mad woman, walking, cycling reading or writing, then she can be found working in an investment bank. Or sleeping.
You can find Beckie here…
You can find Beckie here…
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