“You’re not like my brother from another mother, right? Because I guess I already have one of those,” I shyly laughed, trying to lighten the mood again. Hoping it would work.
He grinned, glancing back up at me through the slits of his eyes with a certain gleam hiding behind them. “I look like someone who could be related to you?”
My gaze shot to the tattoos taking over his neck, peeking out through the collar of his black button-down shirt. Continuing down to his hands, quickly realizing his body was probably covered in ink.
Making my stomach flutter for entirely different reasons.
I needed to change the subject, so I asked, “What’s your name?” Wanting to know who he was.
He arched an eyebrow, wavering for a few seconds before he responded with, “Noah. But you used to call me Rebel.”
“How do we—” The double doors to the church flew open, cutting me off. Both of us came face to face with my parents’ as they walked out of the service, followed by my family. They stopped abruptly when they saw us together. Peering from me to Noah and back to me again, as if their eyes couldn’t settle on one of us for very long.
Except my father's, his never shifted. They stayed murderously narrowed in on Noah.
“You little sh—”
“Lucas!” Mom interrupted in a harsh, demanding tone, grabbing hold of him. Stopping him dead in his tracks from stepping any closer to Noah. “This is not the time, nor the place!”
“Half-Pint—”
“Don’t you Half-Pint me! You calm yourself down, now! Unless you want to take it up with me later!”
My eyes widened, taken aback by my dad’s actions. Confused by the turn in events. Wondering why he wanted to go after Noah in the first place? Where did all this unexpected hostility stem from? I was more in shock by the fact that my dad reluctantly listened to my mom. Causing her to let out a sigh of relief.
I was about to ask why he was behaving that way. Anxiously needing to know the answers to all the questions that were suddenly plaguing my mind. But the clicking sound of heels came up from behind me, pulling my attention to the same woman who was sitting on the other end of the church. She walked right up and stood beside Noah.
At least one of my questions was finally revealed, I no longer had to wonder who she was. It was obvious she was his mother, they had the same piercing blue eyes.
She didn’t waver. “I read in the paper that the service for the baby was being held today. I apologize if our presence has caused you anymore grief, Mr. and Mrs. Ryder,” his mom sincerely expressed in a sad tone, making me even more confused by what the hell was going on. She looked over at me with the same comforting smile her son had shown me minutes ago. “It wasn’t our intention to hurt you either, Mia. I’m sorry if we did.”
“Not at all,” I reassuringly replied, still completely caught off guard. “I was actually enjoying Noah’s company.”
“Sweetie, do you remember him?” my mom questioned, bringing our attention to her.
I hesitantly shook my head no, knowing Noah was staring right at me.
“It’s alright, Mia,” Noah chimed in. “Just means we gotta make all new memories. That’s if it’s alright with your parents’, of course.”
Before I could give what he was saying too much thought, his mom added, “That’s why Noah chose to stay outside while I paid respects for the both of us. I wanted to at least be able to say goodbye for him. He didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Jameson. Noah has a right to be here. You both do,” my mom interjected, pausing to let her words sink in. “You are welcome to come to the burial service, too. We will be heading over to the Oakdale Cemetery over on North Fifteenth Street in a few minutes.” She stepped forward, standing directly in front of Noah. Her face frowned, taking him in for a few seconds before she softly said, “I’m so sorry, Noah. I know you’re hurting. The baby was just as much a part of you as she was of Mia. It wouldn’t be right to keep you from finding your peace as well.”
I jerked back, my eyes widening. Finding it hard to breathe, feeling as though my chest was caving in on me. “Oh my God...”
Noah and I locked eyes as if we were the only two people standing there. Everyone else just faded into the background. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Uncovering the one answer I wanted to know the most all this time.
It all made sense now. The expression on my family’s faces when they saw us together. The look that was still in my father’s eyes, glaring at him. The way his mom provided me immediate comfort when we were inside of the church.
Especially, the instant connection I felt with him. The second we laid eyes on each other.
Every last look.
Every last feeling.
Every last emotion he pulled out of me.
“It’s you...” I finally breathed out, breaking the silence between us. Never realizing I was standing with...
The father of my baby this entire time.
“Missing Oak Island native, Mia Ryder, who was found two weeks ago will be laying her newborn baby to rest this Saturday at the Oakdale Cemetery at noon...”
Now the day had come to lay Madison to rest. At the exact same cemetery where Autumn’s memorial was located. The irony was not fucking lost on me. I hadn’t slept all night, staring at the obituary I held tightly in my goddamn grasp. Spending the entire evening at the clubhouse in the darkness of my room, drowning my fucking regrets in a bottle of Jack. I knew they’d eventually say their final goodbyes to baby girl, but what bothered me the most about that obituary, was that no one knew she had a name.
Not even her mother.
I spent all morning telling myself I’d pay my respects to Maddie after the funeral, when everyone was gone. When it was just her and I, but the heart wants what it fucking wants. For hours I battled my own worst enemy inside, wanting to be there for Mia. Needing to be there for Mia, even if she didn’t remember what I meant to her.
I remembered.
“Who are you?”
“Pippin, what do you mean who am I?” I questioned, thinking this couldn’t be fucking happening.
She weakly shoved her hands onto my chest, trying to push me away. Shaking her head to break free from my hands that were still placed on the sides of her face. “Pippin? Who’s Pippin?”
Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself pulling up to the cemetery just after one with a new set of fucking demons strapped firmly on my back. Failing miserably at keeping my shit together. I parked my bike as close as possible to where the burial was being held, still trying to stay out of sight, though. The last thing I wanted was to fuck up any more of Mia’s life, but I needed to see her at least.
It had been too fucking long since I last laid eyes on my girl in her hospital bed, two weeks ago. Picturing nothing but her face as I backed away from her without even putting up a fight. McGraw had kicked me the fuck out of her room, having one of the officer’s escort me out of the hospital, threatening me to stay the fuck away from her.