Page 92 of Forever and Ever

He pulls the car to a stop outside Adrian’s house.

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel about it, Merry,” he says flatly.

“It’s my body.”

“I get that.” He tips his head back against the seat. “But that doesn’t mean you can expect me to ignore the fact that you’re not taking care of it.”

I unbuckle and turn in my seat.

“I called the doctor. My appointment is in a week. You have to trust me. I get that this is all new to you, and a lot to handle. But I feel fine.” I reach out and place my hand on his thigh and he finally looks at me. “If anything changes, I’ll head to Seattle—”

“We’llhead to Seattle.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but now’s not the time to add more fuel to this argument.

“I’ve got a week to finish up this demo. I wanted to do a few more tracks, but I’m fine with finishing up the one song I have left and then doing the rest when I get back.”

I squeeze his leg, but he doesn’t relax.

“Put yourself in my shoes.” I sigh. “You already made your dreams happen, Noah. I haven’t, and this is my chance.”

“It’s not more important than your health.”

“It’s just a week.”

Noah lifts his hand and places it over mine. With a final squeeze, I watch the fight leave his eyes.

“One week,” he says, letting me go and getting out of the car.

He walks all the way around to open my door for me, and as ridiculous as I used to find the gesture, it makes my heart squeeze in my chest. I climb out of the car; Noah wraps his arms around my waist before I can get past him. Burying his face in my neck.

“I love you,” he whispers.

I feel my throat constrict at his words. Whatever I feel for Noah isn’t a short-term kind of thing. A month into this and I already feel like somehow, he’s become a part of me. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out quite yet, so I just hug him harder.

After a long moment, Noah steps back. He slides his hand down my arm to take my hand in his own. We walk in silence to Adrian’s door, but the air is thick with things unspoken.

I’m no stranger to people having their opinions about how I handle my health. It’s one of the main reasons my parents and I have butted heads over the years. But with Noah, it feels different. The worry I sense makes it clear my feelings aren’t the only ones on the line anymore.

He’s in this with me, completely. And once more I'm hurting him.

Noah lays on the couch in the control room while I get set up in the recording booth. I don’t think either of us slept much last night, but he insisted on tagging along, even knowing he has a long day ahead with the band after this.

I watch him through the glass window as I set my notebook up on the stand. He’s on his back with his eyes closed, but I can tell he isn’t sleeping. His face is tense and there’s the slightest furrow between his eyebrows.

One week.

I just need to get this demo into a usable state, and then the universe can do whatever it wants with me. At least then I’ll have something to work with after my surgery.

My only mission now is how to convince Noah to stay in Denver when I head to Seattle to meet with my doctor. He seems intent on following me, but he has a band and obligations. As much as he’s willing to toss that aside, I can’t be selfish by letting him. Which means, I’ve got my work cut out for me.

Noah thinks I’m stubborn, but that man is ten times worse. He needs to stay in Denver. He needs to finish up the album. And when the time comes, he needs to head out on tour, whether I join him or not.

The thought alone aches in places I didn’t know existed under my ribs.

I don’t want to have to give up Noah, and even if I think long-distance relationships while touring are almost guaranteed to fail, I would be willing to try.

Right?

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