“Tonight, you’re here as my date,” he whispers, and my calves tighten. “And I’d like to kiss my girl goodnight before we go in and I don’t get the chance.”
I laugh lightly, about to respond, but something over his shoulder catches my attention, and I gently nudge him to the side.
Mason, Brady, and Cameron have stepped from the house, and unease washes over me.
My eyes roam them once more, and I take note of who’s missing. The same person I’ve searched for but haven’t set eyes on in the four days since before the gala, though I was told he came back that night, but left before morning.
Noah.
Tension wraps around my shoulders.
Cameron wrings her hands before her, opens her mouth, but her palm lifts to cover it and she shakes her head. She looks to the ground, shifting to the side, and my eyes flick toward the front door.
Soft eyes meet mine. “Hi, Ari.”
“Paige.” I frown, my stomach shrinking. “Where’s Noah?”
Her eyes widen, and she stutters, “Um, he-he’s…” She trails off, erasing the distance between us and grabs my hands. Her eyes begin to water and my teeth clench.
“Paige…” My blood runs cold. “Is he okay?”
Her lips tremble, and she shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.
Something in me cracks, and my cheeks run warm as a sob breaks from me. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe, and my vision blurs. I don’t realize I’m shaking until my brother’s palms latch around my forearms from behind, steadying me. I turn into him, and he whispers in my ear, but his words are muffled.
Soft hands find mine and I look up.
A broken smile curls Paige’s lips as she nods. “Can I tell you what happened?”
I quietly climb from the Tahoe, turning to look at the long line of trucks pulling into the parking lot, each one loaded down with three or four Avix Sharks football players. One by one, they file out, somberly joining us at the curbside.
Tears brim in my eyes, and I nod when his coach steps up, gripping my arms briefly, as if they understand the pain I’m in when I, myself, am still trying to figure it out.
Once all the cars have parked, Mason, Cameron, Brady, Chase, and I lead the group around the back, where the service is about to begin.
I can’t say for certain this is what Noah would have wanted, but I think it is. It feels right.
As we step around the corner, Trey and Paige come into view, both sitting in the only row of seats brought out into the yard, the officiant standing before them with a Bible in his hand. He looks up, spotting our large group and a small smile brims his lips.
It isn’t until we’re in the clearing, the pond and flower garden now in full view, that his body comes into view.
With shaky steps, I move down the small path, and with tears pooling in my eyes, I lower into the last free seat.
With trembling limbs, I look to his closed eyes, placing my palm over his folded ones, my words a croaky mess. “I’m so sorry, Noah.”
Noah’s body tenses, his eyes snapping left to find me at his side.
Shock shakes his features, but only for a moment, and then a shuddered breath blows past his lips.
His hollow gaze grows misted in an instant, and he pulls his left hand free, closing over our still clasped ones. His touch tightens, and with that, every muscle in his body seems to ease.
Mine does the opposite, the weight on my shoulders doubling as I stare at him.
He’s so sad, hurt and maybe a little hard fought anger making him up. I haven’t seen him in days, and in that time, I know he hasn’t slept much.
He’s exhausted, destroyed.
I would be too if I lost my mom.
The team begins to shuffle in behind us and Noah frowns, reluctantly looking away from me, and toward the growing crowd at our backs.
His jaw sets tight as he nods, silently thanking those he can see. Turning back to me, he nearly loses it, gratitude bleeding from his every pore.
“I thought you could use some back-up.”
He swallows, not trusting his own voice, and then his hand comes up, gliding along my cheek as he pushes my hair behind my ear. It’s the most soothing and settling sensation.
I don’t realize I’ve closed my eyes until they’re re-opening and his hand is, once again, wrapped over my own.
Past Noah’s shoulders, Paige nods, a small smile on her lips as she faces forward.
Moments later, the yard is silent as the man before us reads the eulogy of the woman who gave the world Noah Riley.
What an incredible woman she must have been.
A few hours later, we’re facing the parking lot, watching as the last truckload of football players loads up, honking on their way out of the parking lot.