“I’d say. Thinking you were Noah of the ark.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Those blue eyes met mine again, slightly different sound, this time more of a whip cutting through the air, and I wondered if my eyes also had a sound to him? Or was I the only one hearing things? I looked at my chocolate. I’d almost forgotten I was holding it and it had gone soft where my fingertips were clutching it. I raised it to my mouth and took a bite.
“Oh wow! This is so much better than the Coke!” I crunched down on the chocolate and immediately felt a whole bunch of things flick on in my head. Not memories, but little dopamine circuits zapping back to life and firing on all pistons and sending messages of pure damn joy circulating around my body. It was so much better than I’d anticipated.
Noah was watching me with an amused sort of interest, it seemed. I took another bite and a loud long “Mmmmmmm” sound escaped my lips, which caused Noah to smile. And then, unexpectedly, he rolled his shirt sleeve up and scratched a red mark there on the top of his arm.
“Last of the summer mosquitos zapped me last night,” he said, answering my silent question.
“I hate mosquitos,” I said, and stopped chewing for a moment. “Mmm, one more thing I know about myself.”
“Loves chocolate, hates mosquitos!” he said.
“You obviously work out a lot.” I pointed at his arm, my mouth still full of chocolate.
“It’s probably a cliché to say this, but I’m a bit of a CrossFit addict. I like working out, it takes my mind off work. Sometimes, I don’t have the best days. You know?” His tone changed now and that smile I’d seen seconds ago was gone. I swallowed and stopped chewing.
“You mean that sometimes the people can’t be saved?” I lowered the Kit Kat and watched his body language. He looked down at the floor and shuffled his foot across it.
“Like the man who you got Chloe from,” I said.
“Yeah. Like him. And more. So many more . . . many.” He trailed off and I inhaled sharply. I inhaled this little bolt of pain, or something. A bullet of empathy hitting me between the ribs. Physically experiencing pain on someone else’s behalf was new.
“It must be hard.” I put the Kit Kat down on the table. It didn’t seem right, eating chocolate at a time like this.
“It can be. Sometimes it’s great, though. Other times . . . it’s tough. Working out takes my mind off it. Besides, I need to keep relatively fit for my job. I’ve had to drag people out of cars, out of pools, climb over walls to get into a house, and once, climb to the first floor of an apartment. So, it’s important to keep fit.”
I observed Noah. He didn’t seem as composed as he usually was. There was an undercurrent of restlessness to him now. The way he was now tapping his foot on the floor, the way he’d interlaced his fingers and was twisting them around ever so slightly. I leaned forward, wanting to suddenly take him by the hand and make him feel better, as he’d made me feel better, but I didn’t. He looked up at me and I gave him a smile, one that I hoped conveyed I was here and listening to him.
“I think what you do is amazing,” I said.
“Thanks.” He held my gaze and, this time, I held it back. Even though it felt difficult, as if holding his gaze was physically heavy, it was weighed down with something invisible.
“You wake up each morning and go out and save lives. How many people can say that? I bet not that many. But that’s what you do! And you do it well.” I carried on talking and Noah kept smiling and holding my gaze.
“I try to do it well, every time.” He broke the heavy eye contact. “There’s a lot of pressure, though. You have to get it right, make the right decisions quickly, sometimes so fast you don’t even know you’re making decisions. And each one is so important, because if you mess up, or make the wrong choice in a moment, it could mean death . . . sorry, I’m rambling now. I’m just talking. You probably don’t want to hear all this.”
“I do!” I said, so emphatically that it caused him to