Chapter 7 - Noah Had Not Invited Me Only To Learn The Truth
Mara wanted Noah to leave with her.
He refused.
“I'm working.”
“You're off the floor.”
“I’m still not leaving.”
She looked at me.
As if I had already contaminated him.
I caught it.
“Don't.”
She frowned.
“Don’t what?”
“Turn him staying into me winning.”
Noah looked at me.
Mara's face tightened.
Then she sat again.
We stayed in the conference room because none of us had a better place.
Noah looked at his mother.
“Why now?”
“What?”
“Why were you this scared of me meeting him now?”
Mara stared.
“I've always been scared.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You found out three months ago that I knew he was alive. You didn't send men anywhere then.”
She looked away.
Noah continued.
“What changed?”
I watched her face.
Something else.
Not me.
Not old station history.
Mara finally said:
“You're moving.”
Noah sat back.
I looked at him.
He looked annoyed.
“Seattle.”
“When?”
“Two months.”
Mara said:
“With Erin.”
“Who is Erin?”
“My fiancée.”
Another life I had not known existed.
I nodded.
“Congratulations.”
Noah looked surprised.
“Thanks.”
Mara looked at me.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Don't make this normal.”
Noah's face hardened.
“Why not?”
She looked at him.
“Because this is why you contacted him.”
That was the first moment Noah looked guilty.
I saw it.
“What does she mean?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was angry.”
“At your mother.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I wanted to know whether she had lied about everything.”
Mara's jaw tightened.
Noah continued.
“She hates that I'm moving.”
“I do not hate—”
“You asked if Erin was taking me away.”
Mara stopped.
I knew that sentence.
Different decade.
Same fear.
Noah looked at me.
“When I found out you were alive, I thought if she lied about you, maybe I didn't owe her the version of leaving she wanted.”
I stared.
“You invited me here to use me in a fight with your mother.”
His face tightened.
“Not only.”
“No.”
He hated the correction.
“Partly.”
“Yes.”
I leaned back.
At sixty-eight, one advantage is recognizing family machinery even when the paint changes.
Noah had not simply wanted a grandfather.
He wanted evidence.
Proof that his mother controlled people.
Proof that leaving Seattle was independence instead of abandonment.
Mara looked at him.
“You told me this was about wanting answers.”
“It is.”
“And Erin?”
“She’s tired of you making every plan about whether I’m rejecting you.”
Mara went still.
Noah immediately regretted the sentence.
I could see it.
Good.
Let regret arrive before explanation.
Mara looked toward the glass wall.
“I raised you alone.”
Noah closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“Your father died.”
“I know.”
“I worked—”
“Mom.”
He stopped her.
She looked at him.
“I know what you did.”
His voice softened.
“That’s the problem. Every time I choose something you don't like, you remind me.”
Mara stood.
“I am not doing this in front of him.”
She pointed at me.
I nodded.
“Good decision.”
She glared.
I continued.
“This part isn't mine.”
Noah looked at me.
“You’re leaving?”
“Conference room, yes.”
“Station?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I reached for my cane.
“Because somebody over the PA told me to stay exactly where I was.”
Noah almost smiled.
Mara did not.
I left them behind the glass.
On the concourse, I sat on a bench.
Not the one from twenty-seven years ago.
Close enough.
May you like
For the first time that day, nobody was asking me to tell them what the past meant.
I lasted seven minutes before Mara sat beside me.
Related Stories
