The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption

She loved him first. He chose her best friend. Sierra: I'm sure that being in love with my dead friend’s husband is a sin. It doesn't matter that I knew him first or that I fell in love with him first, way before she came along. I've always loved Noah Woods, but he hates me, so how the hell did I end up in bed with him on the death anniversary of his dead wife? I thought it was the start of something, but I was wrong. Very wrong. I should have seen it coming, but hindsight is a bitch like that. Noah: I’ve always hated her. Everyone knows that I can't stand Sierra Meyers, so how the fuck did I end up in bed with her on the death anniversary of my beloved wife? I thought I could forget about the night I made my biggest mistake, but Sierra flips my life when she gives me unexpected news. Now I am torn between keeping my promise to the woman I swore and believed I’d love forever and the woman I swore to hate. Chapter 1 Sierra. I walk down the aisle. My heart is racing. My steps slow and heavy. A bouquet of tightly clutched pink and white roses trembles in my hands as my dress swishes behind me. Everything is so beautiful and perfect, just like we had planned. My eyes are locked ahead. My gaze fixed on his smiling face. He is so handsome, so breathtaking. His smile is so dazzling that for a moment everything fades; I forget to walk and miss a step. The happiness on his face and the joy radiating from him almost bring me to tears. I continue my walk, each step bringing me closer and closer to him. He looks different from what I am used to. This is the first time Noah Woods isn’t looking at me with hate and disgust. I should be happy. I should be ecstatic that I am walking toward the man I love, but I am not. My heart is breaking, and I can hear the sound of those shattered pieces as my heart disintegrates into small bits. I feel suffocated, yet I have to smile. I have to pretend that this isn’t tearing me apart inside. I have to pretend that this isn’t killing me. I have to pretend that I am fine when I’m slowly dying on the inside because the man I love is marrying someone else. My once bright world is filled with nothing but darkness. The world I once dreamed of is crumbling around me. All my hopes, every carefully guarded wish, now lie in shards at my feet—sharp, piercing my already wounded soul. A painful reminder of everything I’ll never have I smile even though all I want is to cry and mourn. Mourn because I know his radiant smile isn’t aimed at me. It’s aimed at the woman he loves. She walks behind me now, glowing in white lace. Chloe. One of my best friends. And the bride. When I reach the altar, I move to the right, just as we rehearsed a hundred times before. Lilly—Noah’s cousin and my best friend—stands beside me, along with Brooks, Chloe’s younger sister. I grip my bouquet tighter as my heart thunders in my chest. I’ve dreaded this day since the moment Noah dropped to one knee at our high school graduation and proposed to Chloe in front of the entire school. I wanted to scream then, just like I want to scream and shout now. I want to curse the heavens. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Anything that can alleviate the pain I feel right now would be welcome. A gentle pat on my arm pulls me from my spiral. I turn slightly to find Lilly offering me a small, encouraging smile. It conveys everything—love, sympathy, and understanding. Our eyes meet for just a second before we both look ahead to the stunning, blushing bride before us. There is no denying that Chloe is beautiful. That’s not the only thing that makes her radiant, though. She’s the entire package. Beautiful, intelligent and kind. She’s warm, caring and loving. I sometimes want to hate her, but I can’t. She’s perfect. It’s no wonder Noah fell for her so easily. I’ve witnessed their love for each other grow. I’ve been there to see it blossom. I was there from the beginning. I saw every stolen glance and every moment of tenderness. And while their love flowered and flourished into something beautiful, my heart withered on the onslaught of unrequited love… And today, it feels like it has finally stopped beating “Noah,” Uncle Rowan’s deep yet firm voice pulls me from the fog that threatened to swallow me. Chloe and Brook's mom died when we were fourteen and their dad left them when Chloe was four; that’s why Uncle Rowan was giving her away instead of her parents. Uncle Rowan kisses Chloe’s cheek before placing her hand in Noah’s. Noah helps her up the steps, guiding her gently to stand beside him. The way he stares at her kills me. The love shining through his eyes for her undoes me. I’ve loved Noah for as long as I can remember. I believed that if I held on long enough, loved him hard enough, he’d see me. That he’d one day realize that I am the one for him. That he’d choose me. That he’d eventually fall in love with me. But I was so very painfully wrong and today is the proof of just how wrong I was. Can he see the heartbreak in my eyes? Can he tell that my heart is bleeding? Who am I kidding? He probably doesn’t care. To him, I’ve always been the annoying girl who chased and clung to him since I was eight. And now, as he stands beside his bride, I’m nothing. I could drop and die and he wouldn’t blink. I stand there, my soul in ruins, as he begins his vows. Lilly told me he wrote them himself. They’re beautiful. Heartfelt. I just wish they were meant for me and not someone else. ‘Stop being selfish,’ that annoying voice in my head snaps. ‘Just accept that he doesn’t love you and he never will.’ I want to block out the words, but I know they are true. I’ve lost and if I am being honest, I lost way before I was even in the running. I don’t think I was ever in the running to begin with. “Do you, Chloe Thompson, take Noah Woods to be your lawfully wedded husband,” the priest says, “to love and to cherish, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, forsaking all others, till death do you part?” “I do,” Chloe says, her voice soft and sure. She slides the ring onto his finger. The priest turns to Noah. “And do you, Noah Woods, take Chloe Thompson to be your lawfully wedded wife…” As the words echo, my heart squeezes painfully. “I do,” Noah replies, steady and certain, placing the ring on her hand. I fight for my next breath. Fight to keep myself upright and not to crumble. I fight back the heart-wrenching sob that threatens to escape my throat. I will my tears not to fall. Willing myself to hold on and stay indifferent. Not to break in front of him and everyone else. “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” A small sob escapes my lips, but the deafening noise of music and shouts drowns it. Noah leans his tall frame towards his new bride. His eyes collide with mine for a second. He then pulls his gaze from mine. It softens as he stares at Chloe right before he crashes his lips on hers. I saw it in his eyes. It was fleeting but so raw. His hate and disgust for me were clear, and with that and the joyous shouts ringing around us, the last remaining piece of my heart breaks and falls off. Chapter 2 Sierra. The ringing of my phone interrupts my sleep. I groan and try to ignore it, burrowing deeper into the warmth of my blankets. I am tired and the last thing I want is someone calling me at odd hours, interrupting my precious sleep. Whoever it is, they can wait. The ringing stops and I sigh in relief. I bring my cat closer and curl tighter around her, pressing my face into her soft fur. I was just about to fall back to sleep when the damn ringing started again. I grope blindly for it on the nightstand, knocking over a water bottle in the process. I should’ve switched the damn thing off like I usually do. I’m a biologist, so you can imagine the crazy hours I put into research. When I do get time to rest, I’ve learned to guard it like it's gold. Eyes still shut and assuming it's a colleague, I swipe to answer and grumble into the phone, “This better be important.” “Si? Are you awake?” her sweet familiar voice breaks through the haze. My body goes rigid. That voice... I know it like a lullaby. The fogginess immediately clears and I snap awake. “Hi, Aunt Ava,” I reply sheepishly, sitting up in my bed, guilt warming my cheek for being rude to her. My cat, Blackie, meows, communicating her annoyance at the disturbance. To calm her down, I pull her onto my lap and pet her back, watching as she curls up and goes back to sleep. “Did I wake you?” she asks, her tone laced with genuine concern I’ve known this woman since I was eight. She’s like my second mom. I love her so much; I would do anything for her, including telling a little white lie. “No, you didn’t.” I lie, clearing my throat to sound more alert than I feel. “You do realize I can tell when you are lying, right, Si?” she asks with a chuckle. My heart warms at her nickname for me. She says it with so much love and affection. I’ve never understood why she would treat me like her own daughter when her son hated me so much. I close my eyes for a brief second, smiling into the empty room. “Sorry,” I murmur sheepishly. There are only a handful of people who truly know me—my mom, my grandma, Aunt Ava, Aunt Harper, and Lilly, my best friend. “It’s late at night. I know I woke you up.” Aunt Ava says, but there is something off in her voice. She’s nervous and It’s so strange because nervousness isn’t an emotion I would associate with her. Aunt Ava is strength personified. She is a powerhouse. Always composed. Always assured. Never nervous. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I assure her before continuing, “Is everything alright?” There is a beat of silence. I can feel her nervousness through the phone and that makes my heart thump a little faster. I give her time even though I am starting to get anxious. I wait for her to collect her thoughts and let me know why she called. I know her well enough to trust that if she called me this late, it’s not something trivial. “Aunt Ava?” Now I know that something is seriously wrong if she’s yet to tell me why she called. My mind jumps to different scenarios. It couldn’t be that someone is hurt, right? If that was the case, then Lilly would have been the first to inform me. Maybe it’s Lilly? But then if it were her, Aunt Harper would have informed me instead of Aunt Ava. “You are killing me with the suspense, Aunt Ava,” I chuckle nervously as my heart begins pound in my chest and Panic sets in. I am an overthinker, so this suspense is wreaking havoc inside me. I literally feel like my heart and lungs are being squeezed right now. She exhales slowly, like she’s trying to steady herself. “I need a huge favor,” she finally says, the words hesitant. “And I just... don’t know whether I should be asking you.” My stomach knots. “Come on, Aunt Ava, you know I’d do anything for you,” I reply without hesitation. And I mean it. Another shaky breath, as if she’s preparing herself for a battle. “IneedyoutofindNoahforme” she says it all in one breath, her voice conveying uncertainty. “Slow down,” I plead, “I barely understood a thing you said.” She takes another deep breath before repeating the words that freeze me to my core. “I need you to find Noah for me.” My world stills and my mind goes blank. “I think I heard you wrong,” I mumbled, unintelligently. My voice comes out faint and brittle, like my voice has forgotten how to form words. There must be some mistake—I must have misheard. She sighs tiredly. “You didn’t.” The silence that stretches between us is deafening. My heart is racing, my hands trembling. All the warmth that surrounded me moments ago has vanished, replaced by a cold that creeps into my bones. “Noah?” I repeat numbly. “You want me to find Noah?” She sighs, exhausted. “Yes.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Aunt Ava, I’m the last person on this planet you should be asking,” I murmur, still confused about why she would be asking me to look for Noah. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. What she just asked me is beyond what I can do. I know I said I would do anything for her, except this. Noah is one person I didn’t want to get involved with. “Please, Sierra. You uncle and I can’t find him,” she pleads, her voice on the verge of breaking down. It’s been years, but to her, Noah is still her little boy. The boy that went toe-to-toe with her family for wronging her. “Aunt…” I pause, not really finding the words to continue. “And what do you mean, you can’t find him?” I shouldn’t have asked, but curiosity just got the better of me. “You know what day today is, right?” she asked. I’m confused, thinking today is Tuesday. Nothing special about it. That is until I remember the exact date. I blink, then glance at the calendar. March 15. Oh. My chest tightens. I had completely forgotten… Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember. “Yes,” I reply softly. “He left the twins with us and said he’d be back. That was hours ago,” she continues, her voice cracking. “We've called him. Over and over. He won’t answer. And today’s... today’s hard for him, especially with the twins having turned Five. I’m worried, Si.” My heart aches at the pain in her voice, but I just can’t. Noah is where I draw the line. I swore to myself to never cross paths with him since he got married. What was the need to be around him when he clearly hated me? I needed to do what’s best for me and protect my heart. “Aunt Ava, have you tried Gunner?” I ask her, my voice trembling. “He is his best friend; he’s bound to know something.” “He doesn’t. All the locations he sent us turned out to be dead ends.” She answers. “He is also overseas, so there is not much he could do.” “What about Lilly? She’s knows him just as well,” I offer weakly. I was grasping at straws. Anything that would save me from having to do this favor for her. I do love her truly, but Noah is a no-go zone. “Her phone is turned off. No one can reach her.” Damn it! We talked before I went to sleep. She told me she was going on a date. If she switched off her phone, then it means the date was going pretty well. “Please, Si. I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid in his state.” she cries, and my heart melts. “You are the only one I know who knows him best.” I want to tell her no. I need to. I promised myself that I would never let myself be tangled up in Noah Woods’ world again. Not after he shattered mine. I tried to come up with excuses I could give her, but my mind was blank. Noah and I are a volatile mix, and I doubt he would want to see me, especially today. “I know it’s a pretty big ask, but I am really worried about him.” the worry, sadness and heartbreak in her voice are my undoing. It breaks all of my defenses. “I don’t know what I’ll say if I do find him. It's been years,” I murmur. “I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me.” “Just try. Please.” I close my eyes. My chest aches with a thousand things left unsaid. But I can’t say no to her. I never could. “Okay,” I whisper, defeated. “I’ll do it.” “Thank you, Sierra. Thank you so much.” It’s hard not to miss the relief in her voice and that makes it worth it even though I have this nagging feeling that this isn’t going to end well for me. Chapter 3 I sit in the stillness of my room after finishing the call with Aunt Ava. A tired sigh escapes my lips as I lean back against the headboard as the weight of her request settles heavily on my chest. What on earth did I just get myself into? I meant it when I said I’d do anything for Aunt Ava and I know I agreed to her request, but this feels different. This feels like I am about to open a can of worms. Noah and I have a history. Not the kind people smile about when they’re older and wiser. No, ours is made of jagged edges and silent wounds. For reasons only known to him, he’s always hated me. From the very first moment we met, it was like something inside him decided I was the enemy. I tried everything to make him like me; God, how I tried. I’d chase after his approval, desperate for a sliver of kindness, only to be met with cruelty that left me shattered and in tears. No matter what I did, how hard I tried to be liked or noticed, nothing ever worked. He would always say something hurtful and demeaning and I would always end up crying and feeling sorry for myself. I never got it, honestly. Sure, I came on a little bit too strongly, but I doubt that is reason enough to hate someone. I was only eight. He was nine. But even at that age, the hostility in his eyes was unmistakable. He always treated me like the damn antichrist. It always puzzled me how such a small boy could carry so much hate at that age. It would have been different if he hated others too, but it wasn’t. He had no trouble showing the best parts of himself to others... But never to me. Being around each other never ended well, especially for me, so eventually, I learned to stay clear of him. It hurt less that way. I haven’t seen or talked to him in years, so why did I agree to be the one to search for him? The last time I saw him was at his wedding. I watched him getting married and told myself that was it. That was the last time I’d allow myself to feel anything for Noah. I made a promise that day: I would not break my heart again for someone who never saw it in the first place. It was a decision I made for my own peace of mind and I have never looked back. Not until now. So here I am. Heart racing. Gut twisted in knots. About to go looking for the one person I’ve spent years trying to forget. Feeling a familiar heaviness in my heart, I push those painful memories away. I’ve come a long way from the girl I was. The girl who had her heart trampled over and over again by the boy she loved. There was no way I was going to allow old griefs to resurface. Instead of focusing on the past, I pick my phone back up and call Lilly. The phone rings twice before going straight to voicemail. I try again; nothing. A frustrated grunt leaves my mouth as I try once again, only to be disappointed. “Fuck!” I hurl the phone onto the pillow beside me, startling Blackie, who gives me the filthiest look a cat can manage. “Sorry, my sweet girl,” I say, guilt creeping in. “I wasn’t cursing you.” She hisses softly before leaping off the bed. With a sigh, I push myself up and head to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and tired eyes stare back at me. My heart feels heavier than it should. I grip the edges of the sink, bracing myself against the rising tide of dread. This isn’t just a favor. This is a return to a past that nearly broke me. Am I really ready for this? Am I really ready to face Noah again? It’s been six whole years. Six years of peace. Six years of tranquility. Six years of healing. Am I really ready to throw it all away? Because that’s what will happen if I go ahead with this. The man has hated me since I was eight. I doubt he would have had a change of heart in the six years I avoided him like the damn plague. My hand tightens around the bathroom sink as my dilemma eats at me from the inside out. I already promised Aunt Ava. She has never asked anything of me that she wouldn’t do herself if she could, so how could I back out now? With a shaky breath, I straighten my back and shoulders. I stomp back into my room and head straight for my closet. I throw on the first clothes I see—a baggy T-shirt and soft sweatpants. The quicker I got this over with, the better. Blackie meows at me from across the room. “I won’t be long,” I promise, scooping her up and hugging her close, hoping I could absorb some of her strength and courage. She purrs softly, grounding me in her quiet way. I set her down gently, making sure she has food and water before grabbing my keys and heading out. Once I am outside, I quickly get in my car before immediately locking the doors. I live in a safe neighborhood, but you can never be too careful. It’s only after I start the ignition that I realize I haven’t thought this through. I just sit there. The engine hums beneath my hands, but I don’t move. I have no plan. No leads. Noah could be anywhere. This was foolish. What was I thinking? Aunt Ava thought I was her best shot, but maybe I am not. Sure, I was obsessed with him when we were younger, something I’m still embarrassed of, by the way. I knew him better back then, but like I said, it’s been six years. I probably don’t know him as well as I used to. I try to think of the one place he would go to but I end up coming up blank. I eliminate the obvious. Not the cemetery— That would have been the first place they checked. Not a bar or a club—Noah isn’t the kind to unravel in public. He wouldn’t want anyone to see his grief. He’s too proud for that. And besides, Knowing Aunt Ava, she probably called every club and bar owned by Uncle Rowan and his twin, Uncle Gabe. So, where the hell would he go? I rake a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling under my skin. Would it be terrible if I lied? I could just tell Aunt Ava that I couldn’t find him, but then she would know I lied. The thought of disappointing her, of hearing that hurt in her voice, stops me cold. I was about to give up when something clicked. A memory. Noah misses her, so he’d probably go someplace that was special to them. Some place that would make him feel close to him. A smile breaks free from my lips. She once told me about a hidden spot. A place that held meaning for both of them. No one was supposed to know about it except the two of them, but for some odd reason she told me. Without hesitation, I pull out of the driveway and begin the drive north. The further I go, the darker the road becomes. My knuckles are white around the steering wheel, panic clawing at the edges of my composure. My mind is screaming at me to turn back, giving me every reason why I should go back home; I ignored it. I am doing this for Aunt Ava. Yet even with my reasoning, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I was making a big mistake. When I finally arrive, I park a little way off and begin walking. And then I see it. A car. The moment I saw the car, relief and dread crashed into me. Going head-to-head in a battle for dominance. The wind here was chilly, maybe because it was on top of a hill. It should have cooled me, but it had nothing on the raging emotions that were fighting inside me and wreaking havoc A thousand memories come flooding back, each one tugging at old scars. I take a shaky breath and move. ‘Are you sure about this?’ the voice inside my head asks. My feet freeze and everything inside me stills at the question. My brows furrow, and I clench my teeth against the need to turn back and ran as far away from Noah as possible. But I don’t. Instead, I pull my shoulders back and take one step forward, then another, until I’m steadily walking towards the cliff. It isn’t that long until I spot a lone figure sitting almost at the edge. Emotions swirl inside me ‘It’s not too late to turn back,’ it whispers again, but this time with more urgency. I nod my head, determination settling inside and I resume walking. I am not a quitter. Neither do I break promises…but maybe I should have. I should have broken this one promise and ran like my life depended on it. Maybe if I had known what was to come, I would have made a different choice, but I didn’t. I should have known. I should have seen it coming, but hindsight is a bitch like that. Chapter 4 I walk slowly towards Noah. No one needs to tell me it’s him. Even after six years, I can still tell him apart from millions of people. I literally feel like my heart is lodged in my throat. Like someone is squeezing my lungs. Stealing the very air, I am trying to push into them. I clench my hands in an effort to stop them from shaking, but it is no use. His black hair is as I remember. What is different, though, is his build. His shoulders are broader; he has a more solid frame. He also seems bigger, more imposing. Then again, the last time I saw him, he was twenty. He is now a twenty-six-year-old man. Of course I couldn’t expect him to stay the same. I continue slowly, feeling as if my feet are made of lead. The wind brushes against me, as if whispering secrets I can't understand. The chill vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind a heat that makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin Finally, after what feels like a millennium, I reach where he is seated. I stand behind him. Inhaling slowly. Trying to calm myself. Trying to think of what I should say. I’d been so focused on finding him that I hadn’t thought about what would come next. Now here I am, frozen and mute, standing behind him like some sort of serial killer creep. I was just about to call his name when his deep voice broke the silence. “What are you doing here, Sierra?” I stand rooted, with my mouth slightly open. How did he know it was me? I shake my head at the stupid question. He hates me, so of course he would know it was me. Know thy enemy, type of thing, right? “I could ask you the same thing,” I say, stepping from behind him. That’s when I see them—bottles scattered at his feet. But it isn’t the bottles that have me worried. It’s the rolled-up papers. He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring out at the city below. No wonder they loved this place. The view is breathtaking. “I came here to remember,” he murmurs. “I’ve been forgetting lately. Her smell, her voice, her laugh, her smile. I just wanted to remember her.” “Noah” I can’t help the tremble in my voice, just like I can’t ignore the raw pain in his voice. He is hurting and missing her with every fiber of his being. I drop to my knees beside him and rest a hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. His body trembles, as if the pain and grief inside him are fighting for release. Fighting to be let out, while he does everything he can to keep them buried. I look at him—really look at him for the first time in six years. He isn’t anywhere near the man he was on his wedding day. His eyes are hollow. Empty. It’s like the Noah I knew died the day she died. Today is Chloe’s death anniversary. She passed away two years ago from stage four brain cancer. No one knew she was sick. Not even Chloe herself. By the time she was diagnosed, it was already too late. There was nothing they could have done to save her. They had given her a maximum of one year to live, but Chloe died four months after the cancer was diagnosed. "I miss her so much," he whispers, voice hoarse. "Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to die? How are the twins supposed to survive without her? How am I supposed to live without her?" The questions tumble from him, one after another. I can’t answer them. I have no answers. Just silence and sympathy. I questioned what I was about to do, but it was killing me witnessing his pain. It was killing me seeing him hurting this way. I hesitate for a second—then move closer and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to me. To my surprise, he doesn’t resist. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t insult me or push me away. He simply clings to me, holding on to me like I am a lifeline, like his life depends on it. His grip hurt a little, but I let him. I let him, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t. "Make it stop, Sierra. Please make the pain go away." "I wish I could, Noah." His shoulders shake silently. He doesn’t make a sound, but I know he is crying—for Chloe. For the love he lost. For everything that would never be. "I want her to come back," his voice breaks. "I want all this to be nothing but a terrible dream. I miss her so much and It's getting harder to live each day that I am here without her." His words scare me because they sound like the words of someone who has given up all hope. Maybe I should have a talk with Aunt Ava and see whether she can get him to see a therapist. Since there is nothing else I could do for now, I hold him tighter, wishing I could absorb even a fraction of his pain. No matter what happened between us in the past. No matter how terrible he was to me, no one deserved this kind of grief. No one should go through the pain of losing a loved one. It’s even worse for him because no one saw it coming. No one predicted it. One minute she was okay and the next she was gone. He never had time to prepare. To process her illness or her death. I doubt he ever accepted death. “You haven’t told me why you are here,” he says as he pushes away from me, seeming to back to his normal self. I don’t know how long it had been, but I also didn’t care. He now seemed more composed. I could still see the pain in his gray eyes, but he was better. Almost like releasing some of the pain he had been holding had helped a little. My legs were numb from kneeling, so I shoved aside the scattered bottles and sat next to him. "Your mom was worried about you," I say quietly. He lets out a short, mocking laugh. "So, she sent you?" "Yup." "Of all people." He sounds genuinely surprised. It’s like he just couldn’t believe that his mom would send me. "I know, right?" I laugh. "I asked the same thing." We fall silent. I’m not surprised, though; Noah and I rarely interacted so it not a surprise that we didn’t have anything to talk about. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled a stash from his pocket. Lit it and then took a slow drag. "That’s not good for you," I mutter, eyeing him worriedly. "I thought you quit." Things were hard for him after Chloe’s death. He spiraled. He fell into depression, became an alcoholic and even started doing drugs. His parents had to take him for rehabilitation after he wrecked his car one day driving home while high. "I did," he says. "But today... I need something to ground me. Something to take the edge off. Something to help me cope with the pain. Alcohol wasn’t doing shit.” To my surprise, he offers me one. I’ve never smoked before. But against my better judgment, I take it, bring it to my lips and inhale. I cough violently as my body tries to fight the foreign substance. Tears stinging my eyes as the smoke invades my lungs. It burns like hell. Noah barely glances at me before turning back to the city view below. "The twins turned five a few weeks ago," he begins. "She had everything planned for their big five. Down to the last detail. Today just hit hard. She won’t be there to watch them grow up. To see all their milestones. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to grow old together, Sierra. But I lost her. And she’s not coming back." I want to say something, but what can I say? Nothing I do or say will make things easier or better for him. Instead, I take another drag, this time it’s much easier. "Does it make me selfish that I wish it had been me who died?" he asks softly “That way I wouldn’t be the one going through this constant pain.” "It doesn’t make you selfish, Noah," I reply. "It makes you human." If you had asked me whether I could imagine sitting with Noah, smoking and talking like normal people, I would have said hell no. But here we were. It’s foreign. It’s different… And almost peaceful. We start talking about Chloe. Our memories of her. They were all mixed. There were happy ones and sad ones. We talk for what seemed like forever. By the time we stop, I feel lightheaded and I am probably high. The air between us is comfortable, something that has never happened. Through the haze and foggy mind, I realized that I hadn’t called or texted Aunt Ava to let her know that I had found Noah. I’d done what I promised. It was time to go home. I’ve never been this relaxed before. I felt so happy. Sure, everything felt slow and distorted, but who cares when I feel so good? I stand up and immediately stumble. The world around me is spinning… And why the hell did the distance between me and my car seem longer? Also, what was up with the burst of colors? Why did they seem brighter than they should be? "Where are you going?" Noah’s voice sounds so far away. "Home," I reply. "I’ll text Aunt Ava to let her know that I found you." I don’t look back, just turn to leave, a strange, happy excitement bubbling inside me. I just wanted to get home and cuddle with Blackie. With that in mind, I take a step forward but then—I am stopped. Frowning, I turn and find Noah holding my hand. "Don’t go," he begs, voice rough and vulnerable. "Noah—" "Please don’t go, don’t leave me," he pleads. "Just for one night... help me forget. I want to feel alive again. I want to forget the constant ache." My frown fades when I meet his storm-grey eyes. He looks so lost. So desperate. I want to help him. But who is going to help me when he decides I no longer have any use? Chapter 5 I pull my arm from his hand and take a step back. “I promised Aunt Ava I’d find you, and I did,” I say, my words coming out sluggishly. “Now I’m going home.” I don’t give him a chance to reply. I turn away, my steps slow and wobbly, but I keep moving. I can feel the danger in the air around us. The danger in his words. The kind that warns you when something is about to shift. Something that you might not be able to come back from. I stumbled towards my car. The need to leave pushing me forward. I know I’m high, but I can’t risk staying. I’ll drive really slowly if that’s what it takes to make sure I arrive home in one piece. Relief hits me when I finally reach my car. My hands tremble as I struggle to dig the keys from my pocket when I feel him behind me. His body heat scorching me and heating the air between us. I stiffen, my back becoming ramrod. Before I can react, he spins me around and pins me to my car. “Please,” he begs, his stormy gray eyes rooting me to the spot. They hypnotize me. Drawing me into the depths and pulling me under like a tide. For a heartbeat, I forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t be here. Why staying is a bad idea. He steps closer, invading every inch of my personal space. We are flush against each other. So close that I can feel every hard ridge of his body pressed against me. I shake my head trying to clear the fog, trying to remember how to say no, but it doesn’t do shit. I feel him in a way I’ve never felt him. I’m close to him in a way I’ve never been. It messes with my head, making it hard for me to think straight. I place my hands on his chest, intending to push him away, but nothing happens. I should push him away. I want to, but for some weird reason, I can’t. Then, without warning, his hands are on me. First on my hips, then my waist. Sparks burst forth on every spot he touches me. “Noah,” I whisper, my voice a plea. Pleading with him to let me go. To put an end to whatever was happening, but he does the opposite; he ignites the fire into a burning inferno. I don’t have time process anything before he crashes his lips onto mine… And just like that, the sparks turn into a wildfire. There is no tenderness in the kiss, just need. It’s bruising. It’s scorching. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt. We are breathing hard when he pulls away, both of us staring at each other in shock, and something else… Hunger. Pure, undiluted hunger This is my chance to walk away. To forget that that kiss ever happened. I should just leave, but I don’t. His kiss brought forth feelings I had long forgotten. Feelings I had long buried. Years of burying them under the rubble and a single kiss undoes all the effort I had put in. It’s like, the fact that he has hated me doesn’t even matter. Our eyes remain on each other, well, that is until something snaps in both of us. I don’t know who moves first; all I know is that we clash in a flurry of limbs and lips. He devours me, his hand caressing every inch of my body. My mind is screaming warnings, but I can’t hear them over the pleasure coursing through me. It’s messy and reckless. Wrong in every possible way, but it feels like heaven. In that moment, riding high on the feel of his body, I don’t feel a shroud of regret. *** Morning light filters through the thin curtains, dragging me from sleep. My head throbs, and everything feels off. I blink up at a ceiling I don’t recognize. This isn’t my room. I’m a little bit confused as I try to piece together where I am and how I ended up here. The heavy arm around my waist is a sure sign that I am in somebody’s bed. I turn slowly, dread seeping inside my bones. It’s been almost two years since I had a one-night stand, so what the hell happened, and how did I end up here? When his face registers, everything crashes into me like a fucking avalanche, threatening to bury me alive. The cliff. The kiss. The motel. His hands. My moans. His name on my lips. Panic grips me, and fear cripples me. Of all people, why did it have to be him? Memory after memory assaults me as I scramble out of bed. He fucked me on the hood of my car. I’d thought that was it, but then he told me that he wasn’t done with me yet. We ended up here, where we spent hours tangled in each other. I scramble to get my clothes. My mind is a huge mess, and my heart won’t stop racing. I can barely breathe as I dress quickly, hoping to leave before he wakes up. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it was supposed to happen, so how did I let it happen? Being high isn’t a damn excuse. My eyes trail to Noah’s sleeping form. He is on his back, one arm over his eyes and the sheets down to his waist. A barrage of more scenes comes flooding back into my mind. Scenes I have a feeling would be burned in my memory for the rest of my life I stand rooted in horror just watching him. Tears spring to my eyes as the weight of what happened between us weighs me down. My breathing quickens as shame floods my chest. I slept with Noah Woods. I slept with Chloe’s husband. The words continue ringing over and over again in my head like a broken record. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I mutter as guilt and self-disgust press down on me. A sob claws its way up my throat, but I swallow it down. I need to get out of here. I need to get away before he wakes up and— Too late. “What the fuck is going on?” His voice is hoarse and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. I freeze. A moment passes, and then his booming voice says, “What the fuck are you doing here, Sierra?” I turn slowly to face him, and the look in his eyes nearly knocks the wind out of me. Disgust. Pure, unfiltered disgust. I don’t say a single word. I’m too shocked, too horrified, too emotional to say a single word. He sits up, scrubbing a hand down his face. Then he laughs bitterly. “Let me guess,” he sneers. “My mom sent you to check on me, and you saw your golden opportunity to finally get in my pants; is that it?” “W-what?” I stammer, barely able to register his harsh words. “You knew I was high. You figured since you’ve been drooling over my dick for years, you’d take advantage of the moment.” “That’s not—” He cuts me off before I could finish my sentence. “Right,” he cuts me off coldly. “You knew I wouldn’t fuck you sober, so you went for it when my defenses were down. Do you feel better, Sierra? Was it everything that you’d imagined? I hope I didn’t disappoint.” His words are cruel, cutting me to the very core of my existence. Noah knew how to crash me. He knew how to destroy me until there was nothing left and I was barely breathing. I couldn’t stop the tears, but they didn’t seem to affect him. He just stared at me in disgust, with a sneer on his face. He gets up from the bed, gets his pants, and slips them on. I begin to shake when he starts walking towards me, only stopping a few feet away. “I didn’t want you then, and I sure as hell don’t want you now,” he says, each word like poison. “You’re nothing but a desperate whore.” I don’t think. All I know is that I had heard enough. My hand flies before I can stop it. The sound of the slap echoes in the small motel room. His face jerks to the side. The red imprint on his cheek eases something in me and gives me a flicker of satisfaction. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, asshole.” I snap, my voice trembling with fury, “You are the one who came onto me! You are the one that begged me to stay! You don’t get to sit on your high horse and treat me like dirt after you got what you wanted.” He clenches his jaw, his fists at his side. He is pissed, but I don’t give a fuck. “I didn’t fuck myself,” I hiss. “So don’t act like I forced you into anything.” I grab my shoes, slipping them on as tears streak down my face. “Fuck you, Noah.” I spit, flipping him the middle finger. It was that or hit him again. “And if you ever call me a whore again, I swear I’ll grind your balls into a pulp before shoving them down your fucking throat!” His eyes blaze with fury, but I don’t care. I won’t let him tear me down. Not again. I stalk toward the door. “Oh, and by the way,” I say over my shoulder, “you were a lousy fuck.” With that, I walk out—shoulders back, chin high. My comeback may be childish, but he isn’t the only one who is allowed to tear someone down. I can give as good as I get. I rush out of the motel, my heart pounding, my soul cracked wide open, and completely pissed. I should’ve listened to that inner voice. I should’ve known better, but I didn’t, and what’s done is done Now all I can do is pray I never have to see Noah Woods again.