Page 92 of Catching My Dreams

“What did I do to deserve you?” Noah asked.

Ella shrugged. “You must have been a saint in your previous life.”

“Must have been,” he agreed before shaking his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t call to let you know what was going on. My phone died when I was at the pharmacy, and I only just got a moment to start charging it now.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad your mom is fine.” She suddenly felt silly for not knowing if she should have shown up and for worrying she wouldn’t be well-received.

“She’s sleeping now,” he told her. “But do you want to come in?”

“Are you sure?” she asked, not wanting to intrude. “I just came to drop off the soup.”

“Of course.” He took her hand in his and led her into the house. “I was about to make myself a sandwich. Do you want one?”

“Yes, please.” Ella’s stomach had growled more than once while she’d been making the soup, so she was more than happy to take him up on the offer.

Noah led her through to the kitchen. Ella smiled when she saw the chaotic mess of paintbrushes and palettes in the sink and on the drying rack. Like the rest of Francesca’s house, the kitchen was far from minimalistic.

It was too tasteful to be called clutter, but every surface had something on it, and the woman’s eclectic taste showed in the range of items she’d picked out. It wasn’t at all how Ella would have decorated the space, but she could appreciate it nonetheless.

Noah made them each a cheese and tomato sandwich, and they ate in relative silence. When they’d finished, Noah put their plates in the dishwasher and cleaned up the crumbs on the counter he’d made the sandwiches on.

“I should head out,” Ella said once he was done cleaning up.

Noah nodded and pulled her into a hug. “Thanks for coming.”

“Call me if you need anything else.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re amazing?”

She hummed in thought. “I think you might have.”

“Good.” He slapped her butt playfully before unwrapping his arms from around her. “Because it’s true.”

She shook her head in amusement. “Keep me updated, okay?”

“I will,” he promised.

“Ella?” Francesca’s croaky voice came from the open kitchen door. She was wearing a broad smile despite the pale cast of her skin. “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes. You don’t know how happy I am that my son finally saw sense.”

“Hi,” Ella replied with her own grin. “I hope I’m not intruding. I just came to bring you some butternut soup.”

Noah’s mom tutted, but her eyes were kind. “You know how much I appreciate your generosity, Ella, but you don’t need to keep bringing me food. You’ve done more than enough already.”

“It’s really no hassle,” Ella said truthfully. She’d kept aside two portions of soup for herself, so it had also benefitted her. “I was about to leave, but is there anything else you need?”

Francesca shook her head. “Thank you, but you don’t need to worry. Noah is taking good care of me.”

Ella smiled up at him. “Good.”

Francesca usually hugged her goodbye, but she didn’t want to risk Ella getting sick this time. So, Ella left the house without a warm hug, but, unlike usual, she walked out the door with Noah’s hand sitting comfortingly on the small of her back. It more than made up for the loss of one of Francesca’s motherly embraces.

Noah walked Ella to her car, his hand never leaving her back. He opened the door for her but didn’t immediately move out of her way.

“If my mom is doing better later, I’ll try to come to your place tonight,” he said.

The relief Ella felt was intense, but she didn’t let herself show it. “Let me know.”

He opened her door wider and stepped aside. “Drive safe and text me when you get home.”

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