second chance and completely change their life. They travel the world, change their career, or do other extreme things.
When everything happened, I was still so young, unsure of what my life would bring me, what life would have been like if I hadn’t gotten sick. Besides Noah, of course.
It definitely helped me cement my choice of getting a degree in fine arts though, something I haven’t regretted for a second. It was one hundred percent the right choice. It’s helped me with my journey and has brought me joy when there was so much darkness.
Noah stands up and walks to the painting that hangs above the other couch. “Did you paint that?”
I nod and move next to him. “It’s one of my favorites.”
We stare at the two figures sitting in the rain. The boy has his arm around her shoulder as she rests her head on his shoulder.
A soothing wave washes over me, like always when I look at this piece. “I sketched this when I was at the hospital before I got my transplant. I didn’t have the best time, and I missed you so much. Drawing us like this, pretending that you were there and held me . . . it helped, I guess.”
“I would’ve been there had I known. In a second. I wouldn’t have left your side. Ever.” His jaw is so tight, he barely gets the words through his lips.
“I know. I really do. Everything in my life was so uncertain at that point, and there was nothing I could do except hope for a donor heart to become available. But it wasn’t like that for you. Your life was different. I knew you’d go far, have the incredible career you always wanted and dreamed of. The one you deserved. And you got it. I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t say that.” He stares down at his empty hands, and I grab one of them to give it a squeeze.
“It’s true though. You achieved so much, and I was always rooting for you.”
“I was so mad at you.”
“I know. I’m really sorry. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.” My vision blurs, and I blink a few times to clear it. “But we’re here now, and that’s what’s important to me. It wasn’t planned, but I’m happy we’re close again. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. More than I ever thought I could miss anyone.”
Noah doesn’t say a word. He pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s nothing like the kisses we’ve shared so far. This one is so soft, so gentle, I can feel it seeping into my body. And it hurts. So much.
Everything with us is a mixture of happiness and pain that can reach an intensity at times that’s too much to take.
But after all the misery, after all the pain Noah had to go through, I owe him this. I owe him kisses that pierce my soul and leave a permanent mark. Right next to all the other ones he’s left there before.
Because if there’s one thing about Noah and me, it’s that we were never meant to be apart. Life didn’t make that decision for us, I did. And for the rest of my life, I will equally hate and be proud of myself for making it.
After a few more pain-filled—yet beautiful—kisses, he pulls back and puts his forehead against mine. “I never stopped missing you. Throughout my career, I always imagined your face in the stands. Cheering me on, knowing I made you proud.”
“You did?”
He nods just as the kitchen timer beeps.
I lean into him to seal my lips with his once more before stepping away. “Dessert time.”
He does his adoring half-snort, half-huff thing that always makes me want to squish his cheeks and kiss him senseless.
I pick up the plates from the coffee table and put them into the sink in the kitchen before checking on the apple crisp in the oven. The corners of my mouth tug up when I look at it. “Perfect.”
After getting it out and putting it on top of the stove, I turn around and find Noah putting the dishes in the dishwasher. After washing each plate off under the faucet. “You still do that, huh?”
He doesn’t look at me but his cheeks lift. “I can see you’re still not doing it.”
I press my lips together before answering. “And I still haven’t broken a dishwasher either.”
He pushes the dishwasher door closed and leans against the kitchen counter. “Lucky duck.”
I sigh.