Page 81 of Love Out Loud

He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

I put my mug underneath the spout of the coffee machine and push the button. It gurgles to life. “She left at around two-thirty.”

“This morning?” Noah asks incredulously.

“Couldn’t very well have been this afternoon yet, could it?” I snark, but then I hazard a quick glance at the clock. Four-ten. “Fuck,” I mutter and all but run to my phone in the bedroom. She said she was going to call when she landed, which would have been hours ago.

But when I snatch the phone off the nightstand and look at it, there are eight missed calls, all from Noah. He must have come over because he was worried when I didn’t answer.

She didn’t call. She landed in New York and didn’t call me like she said she would. Which either means Devin is not well or she’s pissed. Or both.

My knees give out, and my ass meets the edge of the mattress as I continue to stare at my phone. Noah comes into the room holding my coffee. He sets it on the nightstand and crosses over to the window to close it. “I think you’d better shower, have some coffee, and tell me what the fuck is going on,” he says. “In that order.”

He sounds a lot like my therapist used to, and I have a vague awareness that I should probably make an appointment with him again. This is getting out of hand.

I practically drag myself to the shower, and I have to admit that the warm water feels good as it runs over me. It doesn’t go as far as to wash away the past fourteen hours, but it clears away some of the haze. By the time I leave the bathroom, my brain is a little less foggy, and about halfway through the steaming cup of coffee Noah left for me to drink as I get dressed, I’m starting to feel human again.

He’s waiting for me with his own cup of coffee at the kitchen counter when I emerge, and the asshole has the audacity to sniff the air when I approach. “Better,” he declares. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog,” I grumble, but I do as he says.

“No, but you clearly need some direction.”

I pout into my coffee. “Fuck off.”

Noah refills my cup for me, then does the same for himself. “Get it out of your system if you need to. You’re not mad at me, and I can take it. But I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on. Did you two have a fight?”

“Yes,” I admit. “But that’s not why she left.”

“Why did she leave?”

“Her daughter, Devin. She had to go to the hospital.” They’re caveman sentences. Short and choppy. But it’s all I have the energy for.

Thankfully, Noah seems willing to prod me for more information. “Oh, shit. Is she okay?”

I shrug. “No clue. Lark said she’d call when she landed, but she didn’t.”

He grunts, then clears his throat. “What did you do to piss her off?”

“Why does it have to be something I did? Why can’t it be a mutual disagreement? Normal growing pains that come along with falling for your best friend?” I sip my coffee to avoid the glare Noah is shooting me from his end of the counter.

“Is that what it was?”

“Probably not.”

He lets out a long and exasperated sigh. “Listen, Lennon. You ignored my calls, and I got worried. My schedule is cleared now. I’ve got all day, and you’re not in great shape. So you can either tell me what happened and get it off your chest, or we can sit here in silence until I’m satisfied you’re not going to stink up the place again. Your choice.”

Don’t make me choose.

I dip my head forward so I can thread my fingers through my hair as my elbow rests on the countertop. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not going to get any argument from me,” he quips.

I don’t even have the energy to give him a look. The only thing I can do is breathe. For now, that has to be enough.

After a minute or so, Noah softens. “Tell me why you’re an idiot, Lennon. It’s probably not as bad as you think.”

Taking in a deep breath through my nose, I lift my head and say to the space in front of me, “I told her she couldn’t get on a plane to see her kid every time she got sick. I tried to suggest she stay here until she knew more, or she might be flying out there for nothing.”