Chapter 8

A/N: Omg we're here, yay! I really hope you enjoy this last chapter and that it doesn't feel too rushed. Thank you so so much for coming on this ride with me, it was an honor. As always, I would love to hear what you think <3

ELLE

Elle doesn't know how but she made it through the rest of dinner. She thinks she even managed to make some small talk, smile at some of the right times and maybe even not ruin June's birthday completely.

She declines Lee's offer to take her home and lets her dad drive her instead. Not the best choice, surely, but easier than Lee, she figures.

The signs and lights of the city melt into a luminous mush through the wet car window. Or maybe it isn't the rain that's causing her vision to blur.

She should have taken an Uber. Because of course, dad notices her wiping her eyes.

"Ellybear," he says, finally, after having driven in silence for ten minutes. His voice is so soft it makes Elle's vision even blurrier.

"You overheard our conversation, didn't you?"

"Well, not everything. But some parts were hard to miss through the ajar door."

"Shit."

"So. Are you just going to let him go?"

Elle bites her lip until it stings. Of course, dad would have an opinion on this. Like everybody else does. Everybody that's not involved. Everybody whose heart doesn't get broken.

"Okay, let's hear it, dad."

Mike is quiet for a minute. "Honey, I don't want to—"

"Just tell me. I know you want to."

He looks like he's trying to stop himself. Battling hi instincts.

Elle waits. It's coming.

"I mean," he starts, his voice coming out in a huff. "You love him, don't you? And it's very obvious he loves you. So, I'm just wondering what's stopping you?" he asks, like it's an easy question. Easy for him, maybe.

Defiance rises in her throat. "Since when are you a fan of Noah's?"

"Oh, come on. As if I haven't made my peace with your relationship forever ago, supported it even. Because I saw the way he looked at you. Like, like he was ready to take a bullet for you."

They stop at a traffic light and Mike reaches over to cover Elle's hand with his. "The way he looks at you, still. It's something worth fighting for."

"It's not that easy, though, is it?" It comes out more loudly than intended. Elle takes a deep breath to calm herself. "His decision can't be based on me."

"Why?"

"Why? Seriously? How is it that I'm the only one realizing that this is just history repeating itelf? Seven years ago, it would've been me giving up my life for him. Now it's reversed."

"Do you really think that this is the same thing?"

Yes! Or maybe. Actually, she doesn't even know anymore.

"Choosing which college you go to and what you're going to study is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It's huge. It can direct your whole adult life. And you were still so young then. Anything could've happened and you might've well ended up regretting following Noah to Boston."

"Just like Noah could end up doing if he comes here for me."

"But he already set up the interview before he even saw you again, right? He already wanted to leave his life in Boston. So, he wouldn't be coming to LA solely for you. It was already 50/50 between going to LA or New York."

"Well," Elle has to think about this. "That's not wrong, I guess."

"And he's done with college, he's an accomplished lawyer now. You both are accomplished and doing what you wanted. He wouldn't be giving up his dreams or his future for you. He's just deciding on his postcode."

Elle feels her stomach churn.

"Look, there might be a whole lot of other reasons for handling this the way you do, reasons that you poor old dad knows nothing about. But let me please tell you this: What worries me is that you might be giving up on something that might really make you happy because you're scared."

"It's... a lot more complicated than that."

And that's that. Mike doesn't try any further, which is good, because Elle really doesn't want to talk anymore. All she wants is to get in her tub with too many fizzy bath bombs and a glass of wine.

They don't say a word for the remainder of the car ride. Elle doesn't have it in her to try a different subject, doesn't ask about Brad and where he's having his sleep-over tonight or about the renovation projects he and Linda have going on around the house.

As soon as the car turns into her parking lot, Elle starts fiddling with her seatbelt. "Thanks, dad. See you next week, okay?" she says, already opening the car door, already feeling the light rain on one tights-clad leg.

"Sure. Honey, one last thought before I leave it alone?"

"Fine."

"The thing with once-in-a-life opportunities? You really only get a couple of those."

The rain starts coming down harder as soon as Elle steps out of the car.

***

Elle knows Noah's leaving today. Again. But this time, he's also leaving her.

She wakes up with knots in her stomach, a desperation in her heart. Part of her doesn't believe he ended it.

"Don't forget about me, okay?" he said not a week ago. Like he's already a thing of the past. Like she didn't feel like crying all day, her chest clenching with the knowledge that she had him and doesn't anymore.

How should she ever forget him?

You can't forget someone from your past when all you want is to have them in your present.

She keeps checking the time all day. She knows when his flight is set to start. Knows the exact hour and minute that his plane will take off and her heart will break for good.

It's tiny, but a shard of hope is still there. A fleck of faith that he's going to show up at her door any moment now. To take it all back. To tell her that they're going to work it out somehow. Forgive her for whateverthefuck she was doing with Marco because she was unsure and stupid and couldn't accept that some friendships just can't work.

She stops breathing when her phone lights up with a message.

"I love you," it reads and she knows it's his final goodbye. She writes back, her fingers flying over the letters blindly, because she can barely see through the blur.

Her heart breaks right on schedule.

***

Elle is back at the office on Monday, just like always. She's sipping the subpar coffee, just like always. She declines the fourth call from Lee, like never.

Daria checks in with her before lunch.

"Oh. You look like shit. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, now I'm starting to get really worried."

"No need. I just had a shitty weekend."

"Obviously."

Elle takes another sip from her coffee before fixing her eyes on her computer screen. "And Noah and I are through. And that I specifically don't want to talk about."

"I don't understand."

Elle sighs. Does nobody respect boundaries anymore? "It just wasn't going to work."

Daria sits down on Elle's desk, lowering her voice. "Did he take the job in New York?"

Eyes still trained on her screen, Elle refuses to meet Daria's gaze. "Well, no. He actually wanted to take the job in LA."

"Okay. Now I understand even less."

"You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

"Not when you look like your soul has died over the weekend, no. What the hell happened? You guys seemed so happy on Friday."

"He wanted me to... he wanted me to want him to move to LA."

"Well, don't you?!" Daria asks like it's the freaking simplest question in the world.

Elle rubs her eyes, exhaustion weighing on her every muscle. She didn't catch a minute of sleep. She kept thinking about what Noah said, his words running on loop in her head. She also couldn't help about what dad told her. Couldn't fucking stop thinking about chances and loneliness and fucking it all up.

Her eyes sting and she has no fight left in her.

"I do." She lets her head drop to her desk. "Fuck."

***

Elle can't stop thinking about Noah's words. About how he stood there, in front of the kissing booth, half the school watching.

He held out his heart to hear, in front of everyone, and she didn't take it. She couldn't.

The regret she feels is so deep, so all-consuming, it's suffocating. It gets better over the next couple of days but it all comes to a head at the birthday party.

She tries blaming it on her tight costume. On her exhaustion. On the hot temperatures. But she knows it's the regret that's closing around her throat when she looks up at Noah's window.

Her feet are moving before she even fully realizes. But then Lee is following her, demanding answers, asking why she's being weird.

Lee doesn't understand, will not. But she's desperate. Because it's her life, her happiness, her Noah.

But then suddenly Lee does understand, tries to at least, and the tightness in Elle's throat lets up. And then she's going after Noah because after having him, she knows she doesn't want to lose him.

Because he's her chance at happiness.

***

It takes Elle another couple of hours to figure it out. At lunch, things become eerily clear.

She cancels the one meeting she has scheduled and takes the half day. There's no time to lose now. Not when her head is no longer fogged by being scared.

He just wanted to know that she's in. That they're going to try. That she would stop doubting him every flipping chance she got.

Traffic is slow, because of course it is. Elle checks her navigation system for alternative routes but of course there are none when you're stuck on the freeway. Inching her car forward makes Elle's skin crawl.

She has no time for this. Because being scared has been replaced by a whole different kind of fear. Because her chance is slipping through her fingers.

*

After dodging him for over 24 hours, Elle finally calls Lee back the next morning. It's way too early but she doesn't have time to explain, just asks for the company name.

She hates that she doesn't know it.

She also hates that she doesn't know what to tell the receptionist. On top of that, she's also not particularly fond of the guy leaning on the far end of the gigantic reception desk. He's eyeing her over the rim of his mug.

"So, you don't have an appointment?" the receptionist asks again.

"Well, no, but I have to see him. Could you please just call him and let him know I'm here? My name is Elle."

"Okay, sure." He picks up the phone and Elle gives him a grateful smile, relieved.

She feels the eyes of that other guy bore into the side of her face and she's just about to ask what the hell his problem is when the receptionist interrupts her train of thoughts.

"I'm afraid he's not picking up. He might be out for an appointment. Do you want to leave a—"

"No! Thank you," she answers quickly.

This was a stupid idea. She should've just called him on his cell. From home. He probably would've picked up at some point and they could've talked it all out. Without grand gestures and a high chance of failure.

She turns to go when that annoying coffee-drinking guy suddenly walks over.

"Hey, I'm Alex. You're Elle?"

"Yeah?"

The guy, Alex, blinks at her. "He's not here. He quit and he's using up some vacation days."

"Oh."

He quit and she didn't even know. Because he has a new job. A job that may be in New York. Because she let him go.

It stings, the fact that she didn't even know he'd quit already.

She wipes at her eyes and mumbles a thank you when she hurries out. She has to wipe even harder when she realizes that she doesn't even know where he lives.

What a shitty, shitty plan. She can't believe she's fucking this up so badly. Can't believe she's losing him. Again.

Half an hour later, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, she wills her fingers to type.

"Can you give me Noah's address?"

***

NOAH

"I'm here," she says, eyes red, hair disheveled. Beautiful, as always.

"I can see that."

"You don't seem surprised."

He is, but not entirely. "My friend Alex called me half an hour ago to let me know a pretty, crying woman came looking for me at the office. You know anything about that?"

Elle laughs into her hands, but it sounds more like a gurgle.

Noah doesn't know what to do. She's here. She's fucking here. She came to Boston for him.

But does it mean what he hopes it means?

She's shaking, he realizes then, her face still hidden in her hands.

"Come in," he says, because he can't think of anything else right now. He steps to the side but she follows him. Instead of going into the apartment, she walks right into his chest.

Something broken crunches inside him and he can't help but wrap his arms around her.

"Am I too late?" she asks, muffled by his shirt.

Noah takes a sharp breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He needs to hear it. Needs to know that it's real. But most of all, he needs to hear that she knows it, too.

"I'm gonna need you to tell me, Elle."

"I..." She takes a shuddering breath and nods. "I want you to take the job in LA. I want you to come home. To me. If it's not too late. I'm done being scared and I'm done doubting us. I want this to work. And I... I'm so fucking sorry."

He should probably ask a couple of things. Force her to talk more. But there's no way. Because in the last ten seconds, the world has somehow set itself right.

Noah slams the still open door shut and takes her in his arms. Lifts her, until she's standing on her toes, fingers grasping at his arms.

The kiss makes his insides dance, coming alive after days of darkness.

He kisses the salty wetness from her lips, the tears from her cheeks, until there's no sadness left between them.

"I'm sorry, too," he tells her. "For not talking to you earlier and letting it get so far. That was really fucking stupid."

"I understand why you did it. I'm sorry for holding back."

"We're going to make this work, yeah? You and me."

Elle nods into his necks. "I love you so much my head hurts. And I want to trust it. And you. We'll make it work."

"Okay."

"Okay."

*

Later, they lie on Noah's old mattress on the floor, bed frame already disassembled and leaning against the wall.

"I can't believe you have packed all your boxes while you still weren't sure where you're gonna go."

"Well, I was holding out for a last-minute miracle. And here you are."

Elle turns her face into his naked chest, fingers stroking his stomach. The sheet is tangled around them, the air is too hot and they're sweaty. But moving isn't an option.

They don't talk for a couple of minutes, basking in the afterglow and lazy caresses of skin instead.

"You know," Noah starts, after a while. "I'm going to need a place to stay. In LA."

"I think I know of one," Elle says, grinning up at him. "The neighborhood isn't the best but the roommate is awesome. And there's a bakery with top-notch cookies around the corner. It also already has your toothbrush." The kiss she presses on Noah's lips then makes his body tingle. "Oh! And there's curtains! Actual hanging curtains!"

Noah laughs, burying his nose in her hair. "Really?"

"Cross my heart."

"Well, then." Noah sits up slowly, grabbing the black marker he has sitting on his still intact nightstand. He reaches for the nearest box, pulls it closer and starts labeling the box.

"Elle & Noah's," he writes.

Before he can put the lid back on the marker, he's tackled from behind and kissed silly.

He's still sweaty and the air is still thick. Boxes and pieces of Noah's whole life are strewn around him and it's a mess.

But it doesn't matter. Because this is only the beginning.

They're going to have their space. And it's going to be their time.