I thought about that for a moment as we started walking again. I thought about my own failures and how much it would suck to have a reporter hounding me for more. Having some of them reported in the local newspaper when I was a kid had been bad enough, but the idea of having them broadcast to the world was terrible.
“I understand.” I gave him a squeeze and leaned into his strong arm. “Failures suck. I know they're supposed to teach you some sort of lesson, and that it can work out for the better, but they still suck. They leave a bitter taste in your mouth. I guess that makes success that much sweeter, but ugh.”
Noah chuckled at my disgusted noise. “Between the lawsuit and the wedding, I've had enough failures.”
My heart sunk to my toes and threatened to continue on down through China. Wedding? My brain rebelled against the word. He's married. He's been leading me on this whole time. I kissed a married man. A panic went through me and I dropped his arm and pushed him away. No wonder he was so charming. He had a wife to practice all his lines on first.
“What do you mean, 'wedding?'” I asked coldly.
Noah's shoulders slumped, and his face fell. The shadows of the trees crossed his features, darkening them. He put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground, his eyes following a small stone on the path.
“I forgot you don't know about that either.” He looked up at me, his eyes full of hurt and his brow pinched to almost pain. “I was recently left at the altar.”
“So you're not married?” I mentally slapped myself for being tactless as relief flooded my voice. I wasn't the other woman after all.
Noah gave a bitter chuckle and kicked the stone again, sending it spinning into the roots of a tree. “Nope. She didn't even bother going to the church. She came from a big society family, so it was supposed to be the social event of the year. Even the mayor was there. She made one of her poor bridesmaids walk up the aisle and tell me she wasn't going through with it. In front of the whole congregation.” A spiteful smile danced briefly across his face. “I don't think they're friends anymore.”
My hands went to my mouth in shock. I’d always thought that kind of thing only happened in movies. “That's terrible! I'm so sorry!”
He shrugged, obviously trying to pretend that he didn't care despite the pain etched all over his face. Whoever she was, she had hurt him. I was halfway surprised he was even willing to talk to another female again.
“I really thought she was the one.” He looked up, his eyes full of unshed tears. “You know, growing old together and spending cold nights cuddled up next to the fireplace kind of thing. I was wrong. I didn't see it coming.”
I took another step forward. We were almost touching again. “I'm so sorry. I can't imagine doing that to someone. Did she give you a reason?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I grimaced a little. Tact was just not with me today.
“Money.” He spat the word out like it was a vile, bitter thing. “I found that out later. She learned that I had turned down a job with Jack's father. It wasn't what I wanted to do and I had bigger and better plans, but she didn't believe in me. She just wanted the paycheck.”
“I'm sorry,” I said quietly. He looked up and over at a tree branch above my head.
“She ended up marrying some banker. They divorced as soon as he went bankrupt.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a bitter smile, but his eyes stayed cold.
I wasn't sure quite how to respond to that. Another 'sorry' just didn't seem adequate. 'Good job dodging that bullet!' didn’t seem quite appropriate either, so I just stayed silent.
Noah's eyes returned from the branch to my face. The last few rays of golden sunlight caught the angles of his face, making him look older and more stern. I liked the carefree and happy Noah better.
“It was one of those failures that turns out to be a good thing in the end,” he said quietly. “But the fact that it was such a disaster still stings. It's on my Wikipedia page now. I'm the 'left-at-the-altar guy.'” He found another rock to kick, sending it hurtling down the path. I took his arm and pressed my cheek into his shoulder.
“And here I thought it was bad being the 'always-falls-for-tourists girl,'” I said without thinking. I cringed a little once the words were out, but I started walking, hoping that he wouldn't catch it.
“The 'always-falls-for-tourists girl?'” He turned and grinned at me, and I could feel the blush heat my cheeks.
“It's just a nickname,” I said lamely. “Not interesting at all.”
“Oh no, it's very interesting,” he insisted. “Besides, I just told you my dirty laundry.”