She successfully made me feel small, less than a foot tall. Insignificant. Yet I knew it hadn't been her intent, and she'd said it all to empower me, but it did the opposite. She was right when she said I was so full of self-hatred. But how do you stop hating something that makes you physically ill, angered, and disgusted?
"You don't see it, but I do." She stepped closer to me and held my face in her warm, soft hands, forcing my attention back to her glistening eyes. When had she started crying? "And I won't give up until you see it, too. You're still in there. Come out. Stop hiding from everyone and everything. Aren't you tired of living in the dark?"
I held onto her hips and pulled her body flush with mine, her heat bringing my insides to a boil. "It's not dark when you're around. When I'm with you, I believe what you say. But then when I'm alone … "
"I can't physically be with you all the time, Nolan. But you can carry me with you."
"I already do." I took her hand and moved it to the center of my chest. "Right here. You're always right here."
Her lips gently pressed against mine, holding the kiss for a beat before pulling away. "Can we talk? I mean, can you be completely open and honest with me?"
I froze, my mouth opening and closing without a single sound coming out. But then I nodded as if my body knew the answer before my mind did. I worried she'd run if she could see just how deep my self-loathing went. But I'd gone too far to stop myself, and had to take the chance.
"What do you want from me?"
It seemed like such an easy question, with an easier response, but instead of answering, I stood there with my mouth agape and not a thing coming out.
"You sought me out, Nolan. You came looking for me. And I know at the time, it was to get back at me, or apologize for what had happened, or whatever your motive was for finding me. But it doesn't change the fact you came here. You found me. And instead of blaming me, you've kept me around. Why?"
"To save me."
She blinked a few times, cocking her head as if to allow my confession to settle into her mind. "If you want me to save you so badly, why won't you let me?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I don't think I'm not letting you. I just think it's harder than I originally thought it'd be."
"Do you think I'm capable of what you're asking me to do? You want me to save you, probably because in your worst moments, you've admitted to me being the one to stop you from pulling the trigger. But really, in this reality, do you think I'm capable of pulling the hidden beauty out of you?"
Realization hit me right then. It wasn't her job to save me-it was mine. I could use her as my anchor to keep me from drifting, but in the end, I had to be the one strong enough to get me where I wanted to be. Relying on her alone only set us both up for failure.
"Yes. I think you're the one. If anyone can get through to me, it's you. If anyone is capable of showing me the things I've become blind to, it's you."
"But why?"
"Because you're innately virtuous. Inside, outside … you see what no one else can. You bring something out in me I've never experienced before. It's like you see this goodness in me, this purpose, and without you, it's not there."
Through her full inhalation, she nodded and bit her lip, contemplating what I'd said. "And what about after that? Where do you see yourself after? Where do you see me?"
One corner of my mouth pulled up. I closed my eyes and vividly pictured my response. But when I opened my eyes, my lips fell flat. Novah's chin quivered, dimpling in the middle as she fought to control the tears filling her bright eyes.
"I'm going to marry you."
Her eyebrows arched high on her forehead as her breathing grew even harsher, her shoulders now rising and falling with her chest.
"You better believe if I pull through this, I'm never letting you go. Ever."
A tear slid down her cheek, paused at her trembling chin, and then plummeted to her shirt. "Oh, yeah?" she asked, trying to sound brave. "And what if I say no? What if I don't want to marry you?"
I ran my finger down her face and traced her smooth jaw before tucking an errant piece of blond hair behind her ear. "You can marry whoever you want, Novah, but I'm letting you know now I have full intentions of crashing your wedding and hauling you off over my shoulder." My grin reformed at the sight of hers while I recalled her words from earlier regarding crashing my date.
"Isn't that kidnapping?" she teased, her eyes shining through the residue of her tears.
"Not if what I took already belonged to me."
"I belong to you?"
I nodded and bent down until my lips grazed her ear. "You became mine fifteen years ago on my parents' kitchen table."
"And when exactly did you become mine?"
I stood up straight and pulled my shoulders back. I felt very confident in my answer. "First day of school. You walked into the cafeteria and scanned the crowd of students like you were looking for someone. You glanced briefly at me before moving along. Then you left, as if you didn't find who or what you were looking for. The very next period, you walked into my photography class and made a beeline for the window seat. Without even knowing your name, I was gone. Yours. I just didn't know it at the time."
Novah shifted uncomfortably on her feet and glanced around the room. It seemed my confession unhinged her and left her unsure of what to do or say. "Okay … so what do we do in the meantime? You know, before you get it together and carry me off caveman style and force me to marry you."
My smile caused my cheeks to burn, but I ignored the ache. I wasn't ready to lose the proof of whatever happiness I had at the moment. "You look at your pictures and then celebrate your triumphant win."
I followed her to her kitchen table where two large manila envelopes sat, both sealed with tape. Shari must've written on the tape, because over the seal in black ink, it read, "Must be together to open."
I stood back and waited as Novah opened her envelope. She moved through each print, flipping them over and checking the backs of them all.
"Well, she didn't pick any of mine." She set her photos on the tabletop, turned to face me, and reached for the other envelope, but I snatched it up before she could grab it. "C'mon, let's see the winning picture," she insisted, wiggling her fingers at me.
"I'm rather certain she didn't pick one of mine." I tightened my hold on the packet.
"Why not? None of my photos are marked, so you have to be the winner."
"Well, I didn't exactly follow the rules."
Novah yanked the envelope from my hands and squinted her eyes at me. I couldn't do anything other than watch and anxiously wait for her reaction.
She turned around, her back to me, and ripped the seal open. Complete silence filled the room as she slid the photos out and flipped through every one of them, studying each image.
"I don't understand," she whispered and met my gaze over her shoulder. "You were supposed to take pictures of Shari … not me."
I shrugged, acting like it was no big deal, but then I said, "You're the only woman I see, Novah. When you're around, everyone else simply disappears."
Her jaw hung slack, her eyes roaming my face as if searching for the punch line to a joke.
But I'd meant every word.
And it showed in the images I'd captured. Novah's smile, her eyes, her lips, the way the sun brightened her hair and made it shine like a halo around her head. The curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. And if Shari had developed it, there should be one of the crease in the backs of Novah's thighs where her ass met her legs. Yeah, she'd bent over for something and I'd captured the beautiful shot in the crosshairs.
"Just me?" Her whispered voice shook, matching the quiver in her bottom lip.
"Only you." I moved to her, grabbed her fingers, and laced them with mine. "Stop thinking you don't mean as much to me as I do to you. If anything … you mean more to me." So much more. "I took these pictures before you wrote that text or showed it to me. And it's all the proof you need to know I'm telling the truth. It's always been you, Novah. Always. You. Only you."
Her gaze fell away, but I quickly brought our entwined fingers to her chin and lifted it, forcing her to lock eyes once more with mine.
"And it'll always be only you."
Fourteen
My dad had always said I was an impulsive creature, never thinking about anything other than what stood right in front of me. His point had been proven time and time again, none more, though, than the time I'd taken Novah's pictures in my kitchen. Apparently, I never learned. And throughout my life since then, I continued to make impulsive decisions, including-but not limited to-the times I'd tried to take my own life.