with me,” she said.
Alex expected Noah to say no, but his boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment and his shoulders dropped in defeat. Alex’s next misconception soon followed when he thought he was going to go with Noah and Helen, which, judging by the panicked look on Noah’s face, was not the plan.
“Umm… you don’t have to come.” It would have sounded almost sweet and caring hadn’t it been for Noah’s tone, which screamed, Please do not come with me!
Alex took a step back. This was fucking torture. “I guess I’ll just wait here.”
Noah nodded, relief palpable. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“Okay then.”
Noah hesitated, and for a moment, Alex was certain Noah was going to kiss him, but that turned out to be Alex’s third misconception in so many minutes as Noah nodded, turned on his heel, and followed his mother to the elevator.
Alex went back to their hotel room, which had felt like his and Noah’s personal slice of paradise just hours ago, but now seemed cold and empty with only Alex there to fill the huge space.
Hours passed and Noah didn’t return, so finally Alex gave up on waiting and went to bed. It took a long time to settle, but after a couple of hours of tossing and turning, he fell into a restless sleep.
The not-knowing was the worst part. Noah was definitely hiding something, but whether it was a life-threatening illness, a dark family secret, or a pet tiger with a nasty temper was anybody’s guess.
In the end, Noah didn’t come back to the hotel. Instead, Alex received a text message where he learned that Noah had to stay in Portland for a couple of days, and it’d be best if Alex would go back home, so Alex packed the few belongings they’d left lying around and returned to the wildlife center.
It was still early when he got back to the center on Sunday, and everything was quiet. Carl’s car was gone, and even though it was technically Alex’s day off, the idea of sitting around idly, waiting to hear from Noah, did not appeal at all, so he threw on his work clothes and went outside to find something to occupy his time with. It was lucky that work was in never-ending supply around there.
By Friday, Alex had thoroughly depleted the optimism supplies he had gathered over the course of the summer. He was pissed off and worried and the one text message he’d received from Noah, telling him that Noah was probably coming back on Tuesday when he hadn’t actually followed through, didn’t help. That was the last Alex had heard of Noah. He had no idea if he was back or still in Portland.
Alex had no one to turn to for information. The only person he could think of, who’d know anything about Noah, was Carl, but since the guy had warned Alex off of Noah, he doubted Carl would be especially forthcoming with any information he might have.
If Alex’s life had been a movie, he would have trusted Noah to come back, and they’d have picked up where they left off because all the bullshit Noah was putting Alex through would have had a reasonable explanation.
Alex’s life wasn’t a movie, though.
As days passed, seeds of doubt started to push their roots into Alex’s brain. At night, he lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep as fear and distrust made themselves at home inside his mind. During the daytime, it was somewhat easier to fight back the morose thoughts, but late at night, alone in the dark, all the what-ifs appeared front and center in his mind and tortured Alex the whole night through.
He was angry. All the time. He missed Noah, and that only made him more pissed. Mostly at himself because he had promised himself he’d never let himself become dependent on another person ever again, hadn’t he? Apparently, the lessons taught by his parents had not stuck.
By Friday, he felt like anger was a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse inside him, and an explosion was inevitable.
Alex stabbed the pitchfork into the hay viciously, lifted, carried it into the pen, spread it out evenly, and glared at Millie. “You know you could do your business outside like a normal cow. You don’t have to treat this place as your personal toilet.”
He almost stabbed the pitchfork through his foot when he jumped at the voice from behind him. “I don’t think cows speak