Chapter 15 - The Unspoken Truth
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The night before we drove to New York, Grace cooked a massive, chaotic farewell dinner consisting entirely of Noah’s favorite foods—none of which remotely belonged on the same plate.
We sat around the kitchen island, eating lasagna, garlic bread, and chocolate cake while the rain began to patter against the windows outside.
"If you eat like this in your dorm, you won't survive the first semester," Grace warned, wagging her fork at him. "Colleges have dining halls for a reason, Noah."
"Dining hall food tastes like cardboard, Grace," Noah argued cheerfully. "I am a gourmet now."
"You are a menace," she retorted, though her eyes were shining with undisguised affection.
After dinner, while Grace cleared the dishes, I walked out onto the back porch. The river was dark, reflecting the pale light of a crescent moon.
A moment later, the screen door clicked open, and Noah stepped out, leaning against the wooden railing beside me.
"You're quiet tonight," he observed.
"Just thinking," I answered, looking out at the water. "About how fast the years went."
"People always say that when kids grow up."
"It's true, though. One day you're carrying a terrified ten-year-old who thinks his entire world is ending, and the next day you're helping him pack up a dorm room in Manhattan."
Noah looked down at his hands resting on the rail. "Dad... do you ever regret it? Taking me in? Dealing with all the Mercer madness, the trial, the lawsuits, the newspapers?"
I turned sharply, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to look at me.
"Don't ever ask that," I said fiercely, my voice tight. "Taking you in wasn't a burden, Noah. It was the only salvation I ever found. You saved me just as much as I saved you."
Noah’s eyes welled with sudden tears, and he pulled me into a fierce, suffocating hug.
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"I love you, Dad," he whispered against my shoulder.
"I love you too, son," I answered, holding him tightly against the night wind.
