For what? For being sick. I know you have work. Hey, he smoothed her hair back. You are more important than work. Always. Okay. She nodded, already drifting. Noah sat there until her breathing evened out, then went to his own room and called Marcus. I need a favor. Name it. Can your sister babysit tomorrow night? Emma’s sick, but I think it’s just a 24-hour thing.
She should be better by tomorrow. Hot date with the billionaire. It’s not Yes. dinner. Marcus whistled. You’re really doing this. I’m really doing this. Okay, I’ll text Tessa. But Noah, be careful. I know you like this woman, but she’s still your boss. That doesn’t just go away. I know. He hung up and checked on Emma again, still sleeping.
Her fever had already come down slightly. The medicine was working. His phone buzzed. Victoria, is everything okay? You left work early. Emma’s sick. Nothing serious. Just a bug. Do you need anything? I could send. No, we’re fine. Thank you, though. A pause. Can I ask you something? Always. Does this feel crazy to you? This whole thing? Noah looked at Emma sleeping, thought about the coffee that morning, about Richard’s threats, about the impossible situation he was walking into. Yeah, he said.
It feels completely crazy. Good. I thought it was just me. You having second thoughts constantly, but I keep having them and then I keep texting you anyway. What does that say about me? That you’re human? Victoria laughed softly. I forget that sometimes. Being human, it’s easier to be the CEO. The CEO doesn’t get nervous about dinner dates.
The CEO doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing. The CEO just makes decisions and moves forward. But you’re not having dinner with the CEO tomorrow. You’re having dinner with me. No, you’re having dinner with me. There’s a difference. What kind of difference? The kind where I’m the one who’s terrified of screwing this up. Noah smiled. Join the club.
We have t-shirts. Do you really want to do this knowing how complicated it is, knowing all the ways it could go wrong? He thought about Sarah about 3 years of going through the motions about how it felt to sit across from Victoria and actually feel something again. Yeah, he said. I really do. Okay, then. Tomorrow 6:30.
I’ll send you the address. It’s a date. After they hung up, Noah sat in the quiet apartment listening to Emma breathe in the next room. His phone glowed with Victoria’s contact information, her last text, the promise of tomorrow. It was crazy. It was reckless. It was probably going to explode in his face. But for the first time in 3 years, he felt alive.
Emma stirred, called out for him. Noah went to her, checked her fever again, got her more water. She fell back asleep holding his hand and he stayed there on the floor beside her bed, back against the wall, thinking about everything and nothing. His phone buzzed one more time. Victoria, thank you for being honest, for trying, for making me feel like maybe I haven’t completely forgotten how to be a person.
Noah typed back with his free hand, careful not to wake Emma. Thank you for the same. Sleep well. You, too. Kiss Emma good night for me. He looked down at his daughter, her small hand wrapped around his, and felt something in his chest crack open, not breaking, opening like a door he’d kept locked, was finally willing to budge.
Tomorrow would bring more complications, more risks, more reasons to be smart and careful and safe. But tonight, sitting on his daughter’s bedroom floor with a fever sick kid and a phone full of messages from a woman who shouldn’t make sense, but somehow did, Noah let himself hope. and that felt like enough. Emma’s fever broke by morning, leaving her cranky and demanding cartoons.
Noah called in sick to work, the first time in 2 years, and spent Friday alternating between checking her temperature and obsessively looking at his phone. Victoria had sent the restaurant address at midnight, somewhere called Ember. He’d looked it up. Another place he couldn’t afford, but at least this time he knew what he was walking into.
Tessa confirmed she could babysit. Marcus called three times with unsolicited advice. Emma, sensing something was happening, interrogated him between episodes of her dinosaur show. Is this another date with Victoria? Yeah, sweetheart. Are you going to marry her? Noah choked on his coffee. What? No, Emma. We barely know each other. But you like her a lot.
I can tell. It’s complicated. That’s what grown-ups say when they don’t want to explain things. She wasn’t wrong. Noah sat beside her on the couch, pulling her against his side. Okay, here’s the truth. I do like Victoria, but she’s very different from us. She has a lot of money and a very important job, and I don’t know if this is going to work out.
Why wouldn’t it? Because sometimes people from different worlds don’t fit together. Emma looked up at him with those serious eyes. Mommy used to say, “People aren’t puzzles. They don’t have to fit perfect. They just have to want to be together.” Noah’s throat tightened. She said that? Uh-huh. When I asked why you and her got married, even though she liked country music and you thought it was annoying, he laughed despite himself.
I never said it was annoying. You made faces every time she played it in the car. Fair point. He kissed the top of her head. You’re pretty smart, you know that. I know. Can I have ice cream for lunch since I was sick? Nice try. How about soup? She groaned but didn’t argue. By afternoon, she was back to her normal self, making Tessa play dinosaurs, explaining in elaborate detail why the Tyrannosaurus Rex would definitely beat a Velociraptor in a fight, ignoring Noah’s attempts to get her to rest.
