Sierra.

The ringing of my phone interrupts my sleep. I groan and try to ignore it, burrowing deeper into the warmth of my blankets. I am tired and the last thing I want is someone calling me at odd hours, interrupting my precious sleep.

Whoever it is, they can wait.

The ringing stops and I sigh in relief. I bring my cat closer and curl tighter around her, pressing my face into her soft fur. I was just about to fall back to sleep when the damn ringing started again.

I grope blindly for it on the nightstand, knocking over a water bottle in the process. I should’ve switched the damn thing off like I usually do.

I’m a biologist, so you can imagine the crazy hours I put into research. When I do get time to rest, I’ve learned to guard it like it's gold.

Eyes still shut and assuming it's a colleague, I swipe to answer and grumble into the phone, “This better be important.”

“Si? Are you awake?” her sweet familiar voice breaks through the haze.

My body goes rigid. That voice... I know it like a lullaby. The fogginess immediately clears and I snap awake.

“Hi, Aunt Ava,” I reply sheepishly, sitting up in my bed, guilt warming my cheek for being rude to her.

My cat, Blackie, meows, communicating her annoyance at the disturbance. To calm her down, I pull her onto my lap and pet her back, watching as she curls up and goes back to sleep.

“Did I wake you?” she asks, her tone laced with genuine concern

I’ve known this woman since I was eight. She’s like my second mom. I love her so much; I would do anything for her, including telling a little white lie.

“No, you didn’t.” I lie, clearing my throat to sound more alert than I feel.

“You do realize I can tell when you are lying, right, Si?” she asks with a chuckle.

My heart warms at her nickname for me. She says it with so much love and affection. I’ve never understood why she would treat me like her own daughter when her son hated me so much.

I close my eyes for a brief second, smiling into the empty room.

“Sorry,” I murmur sheepishly.

There are only a handful of people who truly know me—my mom, my grandma, Aunt Ava, Aunt Harper, and Lilly, my best friend.

“It’s late at night. I know I woke you up.” Aunt Ava says, but there is something off in her voice. She’s nervous and It’s so strange because nervousness isn’t an emotion I would associate with her.

Aunt Ava is strength personified. She is a powerhouse. Always composed. Always assured. Never nervous.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I assure her before continuing, “Is everything alright?”

There is a beat of silence. I can feel her nervousness through the phone and that makes my heart thump a little faster.

I give her time even though I am starting to get anxious. I wait for her to collect her thoughts and let me know why she called. I know her well enough to trust that if she called me this late, it’s not something trivial.

“Aunt Ava?”

Now I know that something is seriously wrong if she’s yet to tell me why she called.

My mind jumps to different scenarios. It couldn’t be that someone is hurt, right? If that was the case, then Lilly would have been the first to inform me. Maybe it’s Lilly? But then if it were her, Aunt Harper would have informed me instead of Aunt Ava.

“You are killing me with the suspense, Aunt Ava,” I chuckle nervously as my heart begins pound in my chest and Panic sets in.

I am an overthinker, so this suspense is wreaking havoc inside me. I literally feel like my heart and lungs are being squeezed right now.

She exhales slowly, like she’s trying to steady herself.

“I need a huge favor,” she finally says, the words hesitant. “And I just... don’t know whether I should be asking you.”

My stomach knots.

“Come on, Aunt Ava, you know I’d do anything for you,” I reply without hesitation. And I mean it.

Another shaky breath, as if she’s preparing herself for a battle.

“IneedyoutofindNoahforme” she says it all in one breath, her voice conveying uncertainty.

“Slow down,” I plead, “I barely understood a thing you said.”

She takes another deep breath before repeating the words that freeze me to my core. “I need you to find Noah for me.”

My world stills and my mind goes blank.

“I think I heard you wrong,” I mumbled, unintelligently.

My voice comes out faint and brittle, like my voice has forgotten how to form words. There must be some mistake—I must have misheard.

She sighs tiredly. “You didn’t.”

The silence that stretches between us is deafening. My heart is racing, my hands trembling. All the warmth that surrounded me moments ago has vanished, replaced by a cold that creeps into my bones.

“Noah?” I repeat numbly. “You want me to find Noah?”

She sighs, exhausted. “Yes.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“Aunt Ava, I’m the last person on this planet you should be asking,” I murmur, still confused about why she would be asking me to look for Noah.

I take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. What she just asked me is beyond what I can do. I know I said I would do anything for her, except this. Noah is one person I didn’t want to get involved with.

“Please, Sierra. You uncle and I can’t find him,” she pleads, her voice on the verge of breaking down. It’s been years, but to her, Noah is still her little boy. The boy that went toe-to-toe with her family for wronging her.

“Aunt…” I pause, not really finding the words to continue. “And what do you mean, you can’t find him?”

I shouldn’t have asked, but curiosity just got the better of me.

“You know what day today is, right?” she asked.

I’m confused, thinking today is Tuesday. Nothing special about it. That is until I remember the exact date.

I blink, then glance at the calendar. March 15.

Oh.

My chest tightens.

I had completely forgotten… Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember.

“Yes,” I reply softly.

“He left the twins with us and said he’d be back. That was hours ago,” she continues, her voice cracking. “We've called him. Over and over. He won’t answer. And today’s... today’s hard for him, especially with the twins having turned Five. I’m worried, Si.”

My heart aches at the pain in her voice, but I just can’t. Noah is where I draw the line. I swore to myself to never cross paths with him since he got married.

What was the need to be around him when he clearly hated me? I needed to do what’s best for me and protect my heart.

“Aunt Ava, have you tried Gunner?” I ask her, my voice trembling. “He is his best friend; he’s bound to know something.”

“He doesn’t. All the locations he sent us turned out to be dead ends.” She answers. “He is also overseas, so there is not much he could do.”

“What about Lilly? She’s knows him just as well,” I offer weakly.

I was grasping at straws. Anything that would save me from having to do this favor for her. I do love her truly, but Noah is a no-go zone.

“Her phone is turned off. No one can reach her.”

Damn it! We talked before I went to sleep. She told me she was going on a date. If she switched off her phone, then it means the date was going pretty well.

“Please, Si. I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid in his state.” she cries, and my heart melts. “You are the only one I know who knows him best.”

I want to tell her no. I need to. I promised myself that I would never let myself be tangled up in Noah Woods’ world again. Not after he shattered mine.

I tried to come up with excuses I could give her, but my mind was blank. Noah and I are a volatile mix, and I doubt he would want to see me, especially today.

“I know it’s a pretty big ask, but I am really worried about him.” the worry, sadness and heartbreak in her voice are my undoing. It breaks all of my defenses.

“I don’t know what I’ll say if I do find him. It's been years,” I murmur. “I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me.”

“Just try. Please.”

I close my eyes. My chest aches with a thousand things left unsaid. But I can’t say no to her. I never could.

“Okay,” I whisper, defeated. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Sierra. Thank you so much.”

It’s hard not to miss the relief in her voice and that makes it worth it even though I have this nagging feeling that this isn’t going to end well for me.

I sit in the stillness of my room after finishing the call with Aunt Ava. A tired sigh escapes my lips as I lean back against the headboard as the weight of her request settles heavily on my chest. What on earth did I just get myself into?

I meant it when I said I’d do anything for Aunt Ava and I know I agreed to her request, but this feels different. This feels like I am about to open a can of worms.

Noah and I have a history. Not the kind people smile about when they’re older and wiser. No, ours is made of jagged edges and silent wounds. For reasons only known to him, he’s always hated me. From the very first moment we met, it was like something inside him decided I was the enemy.

I tried everything to make him like me; God, how I tried. I’d chase after his approval, desperate for a sliver of kindness, only to be met with cruelty that left me shattered and in tears. No matter what I did, how hard I tried to be liked or noticed, nothing ever worked.

He would always say something hurtful and demeaning and I would always end up crying and feeling sorry for myself. I never got it, honestly. Sure, I came on a little bit too strongly, but I doubt that is reason enough to hate someone.

I was only eight. He was nine. But even at that age, the hostility in his eyes was unmistakable. He always treated me like the damn antichrist. It always puzzled me how such a small boy could carry so much hate at that age. It would have been different if he hated others too, but it wasn’t. He had no trouble showing the best parts of himself to others... But never to me.

Being around each other never ended well, especially for me, so eventually, I learned to stay clear of him. It hurt less that way.

I haven’t seen or talked to him in years, so why did I agree to be the one to search for him? The last time I saw him was at his wedding. I watched him getting married and told myself that was it. That was the last time I’d allow myself to feel anything for Noah. I made a promise that day: I would not break my heart again for someone who never saw it in the first place.

It was a decision I made for my own peace of mind and I have never looked back. Not until now.

So here I am. Heart racing. Gut twisted in knots. About to go looking for the one person I’ve spent years trying to forget.

Feeling a familiar heaviness in my heart, I push those painful memories away. I’ve come a long way from the girl I was. The girl who had her heart trampled over and over again by the boy she loved. There was no way I was going to allow old griefs to resurface.

Instead of focusing on the past, I pick my phone back up and call Lilly. The phone rings twice before going straight to voicemail. I try again; nothing. A frustrated grunt leaves my mouth as I try once again, only to be disappointed.

“Fuck!” I hurl the phone onto the pillow beside me, startling Blackie, who gives me the filthiest look a cat can manage.

“Sorry, my sweet girl,” I say, guilt creeping in. “I wasn’t cursing you.”

She hisses softly before leaping off the bed.

With a sigh, I push myself up and head to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and tired eyes stare back at me. My heart feels heavier than it should.

I grip the edges of the sink, bracing myself against the rising tide of dread. This isn’t just a favor. This is a return to a past that nearly broke me.

Am I really ready for this? Am I really ready to face Noah again?

It’s been six whole years. Six years of peace. Six years of tranquility. Six years of healing. Am I really ready to throw it all away? Because that’s what will happen if I go ahead with this. The man has hated me since I was eight. I doubt he would have had a change of heart in the six years I avoided him like the damn plague.

My hand tightens around the bathroom sink as my dilemma eats at me from the inside out. I already promised Aunt Ava. She has never asked anything of me that she wouldn’t do herself if she could, so how could I back out now?

With a shaky breath, I straighten my back and shoulders. I stomp back into my room and head straight for my closet. I throw on the first clothes I see—a baggy T-shirt and soft sweatpants.

The quicker I got this over with, the better.

Blackie meows at me from across the room.

“I won’t be long,” I promise, scooping her up and hugging her close, hoping I could absorb some of her strength and courage.

She purrs softly, grounding me in her quiet way. I set her down gently, making sure she has food and water before grabbing my keys and heading out.

Once I am outside, I quickly get in my car before immediately locking the doors. I live in a safe neighborhood, but you can never be too careful.

It’s only after I start the ignition that I realize I haven’t thought this through. I just sit there. The engine hums beneath my hands, but I don’t move. I have no plan. No leads.

Noah could be anywhere. This was foolish. What was I thinking?

Aunt Ava thought I was her best shot, but maybe I am not. Sure, I was obsessed with him when we were younger, something I’m still embarrassed of, by the way. I knew him better back then, but like I said, it’s been six years. I probably don’t know him as well as I used to.

I try to think of the one place he would go to but I end up coming up blank. I eliminate the obvious. Not the cemetery— That would have been the first place they checked.

Not a bar or a club—Noah isn’t the kind to unravel in public. He wouldn’t want anyone to see his grief. He’s too proud for that.

And besides, Knowing Aunt Ava, she probably called every club and bar owned by Uncle Rowan and his twin, Uncle Gabe.

So, where the hell would he go?

I rake a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling under my skin. Would it be terrible if I lied? I could just tell Aunt Ava that I couldn’t find him, but then she would know I lied. The thought of disappointing her, of hearing that hurt in her voice, stops me cold.

I was about to give up when something clicked. A memory.

Noah misses her, so he’d probably go someplace that was special to them. Some place that would make him feel close to him.

A smile breaks free from my lips.

She once told me about a hidden spot. A place that held meaning for both of them. No one was supposed to know about it except the two of them, but for some odd reason she told me.

Without hesitation, I pull out of the driveway and begin the drive north. The further I go, the darker the road becomes. My knuckles are white around the steering wheel, panic clawing at the edges of my composure.

My mind is screaming at me to turn back, giving me every reason why I should go back home; I ignored it. I am doing this for Aunt Ava.

Yet even with my reasoning, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I was making a big mistake.

When I finally arrive, I park a little way off and begin walking.

And then I see it. A car.

The moment I saw the car, relief and dread crashed into me. Going head-to-head in a battle for dominance. The wind here was chilly, maybe because it was on top of a hill. It should have cooled me, but it had nothing on the raging emotions that were fighting inside me and wreaking havoc

A thousand memories come flooding back, each one tugging at old scars. I take a shaky breath and move.

‘Are you sure about this?’ the voice inside my head asks.

My feet freeze and everything inside me stills at the question.

My brows furrow, and I clench my teeth against the need to turn back and ran as far away from Noah as possible. But I don’t. Instead, I pull my shoulders back and take one step forward, then another, until I’m steadily walking towards the cliff.

It isn’t that long until I spot a lone figure sitting almost at the edge.

Emotions swirl inside me

‘It’s not too late to turn back,’ it whispers again, but this time with more urgency.

I nod my head, determination settling inside and I resume walking. I am not a quitter. Neither do I break promises…but maybe I should have. I should have broken this one promise and ran like my life depended on it.

Maybe if I had known what was to come, I would have made a different choice, but I didn’t. I should have known. I should have seen it coming, but hindsight is a bitch like that.

I walk slowly towards Noah. No one needs to tell me it’s him. Even after six years, I can still tell him apart from millions of people.

I literally feel like my heart is lodged in my throat. Like someone is squeezing my lungs. Stealing the very air, I am trying to push into them. I clench my hands in an effort to stop them from shaking, but it is no use.

His black hair is as I remember. What is different, though, is his build. His shoulders are broader; he has a more solid frame. He also seems bigger, more imposing. Then again, the last time I saw him, he was twenty. He is now a twenty-six-year-old man. Of course I couldn’t expect him to stay the same.

I continue slowly, feeling as if my feet are made of lead. The wind brushes against me, as if whispering secrets I can't understand. The chill vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind a heat that makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin

Finally, after what feels like a millennium, I reach where he is seated.

I stand behind him. Inhaling slowly. Trying to calm myself. Trying to think of what I should say. I’d been so focused on finding him that I hadn’t thought about what would come next. Now here I am, frozen and mute, standing behind him like some sort of serial killer creep.

I was just about to call his name when his deep voice broke the silence.

“What are you doing here, Sierra?”

I stand rooted, with my mouth slightly open. How did he know it was me? I shake my head at the stupid question. He hates me, so of course he would know it was me. Know thy enemy, type of thing, right?

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, stepping from behind him.

That’s when I see them—bottles scattered at his feet. But it isn’t the bottles that have me worried. It’s the rolled-up papers.

He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring out at the city below. No wonder they loved this place. The view is breathtaking.

“I came here to remember,” he murmurs. “I’ve been forgetting lately. Her smell, her voice, her laugh, her smile. I just wanted to remember her.”

“Noah”

I can’t help the tremble in my voice, just like I can’t ignore the raw pain in his voice. He is hurting and missing her with every fiber of his being.

I drop to my knees beside him and rest a hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. His body trembles, as if the pain and grief inside him are fighting for release. Fighting to be let out, while he does everything he can to keep them buried.

I look at him—really look at him for the first time in six years. He isn’t anywhere near the man he was on his wedding day. His eyes are hollow. Empty. It’s like the Noah I knew died the day she died.

Today is Chloe’s death anniversary.

She passed away two years ago from stage four brain cancer. No one knew she was sick. Not even Chloe herself. By the time she was diagnosed, it was already too late. There was nothing they could have done to save her.

They had given her a maximum of one year to live, but Chloe died four months after the cancer was diagnosed.

"I miss her so much," he whispers, voice hoarse. "Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to die? How are the twins supposed to survive without her? How am I supposed to live without her?"

The questions tumble from him, one after another. I can’t answer them. I have no answers. Just silence and sympathy.

I questioned what I was about to do, but it was killing me witnessing his pain. It was killing me seeing him hurting this way. I hesitate for a second—then move closer and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to me.

To my surprise, he doesn’t resist. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t insult me or push me away. He simply clings to me, holding on to me like I am a lifeline, like his life depends on it. His grip hurt a little, but I let him. I let him, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t.

"Make it stop, Sierra. Please make the pain go away."

"I wish I could, Noah."

His shoulders shake silently. He doesn’t make a sound, but I know he is crying—for Chloe. For the love he lost. For everything that would never be.

"I want her to come back," his voice breaks. "I want all this to be nothing but a terrible dream. I miss her so much and It's getting harder to live each day that I am here without her."

His words scare me because they sound like the words of someone who has given up all hope. Maybe I should have a talk with Aunt Ava and see whether she can get him to see a therapist.

Since there is nothing else I could do for now, I hold him tighter, wishing I could absorb even a fraction of his pain. No matter what happened between us in the past. No matter how terrible he was to me, no one deserved this kind of grief. No one should go through the pain of losing a loved one.

It’s even worse for him because no one saw it coming. No one predicted it. One minute she was okay and the next she was gone. He never had time to prepare. To process her illness or her death. I doubt he ever accepted death.

“You haven’t told me why you are here,” he says as he pushes away from me, seeming to back to his normal self.

I don’t know how long it had been, but I also didn’t care. He now seemed more composed. I could still see the pain in his gray eyes, but he was better. Almost like releasing some of the pain he had been holding had helped a little.

My legs were numb from kneeling, so I shoved aside the scattered bottles and sat next to him.

"Your mom was worried about you," I say quietly.

He lets out a short, mocking laugh. "So, she sent you?"

"Yup."

"Of all people." He sounds genuinely surprised. It’s like he just couldn’t believe that his mom would send me.

"I know, right?" I laugh. "I asked the same thing."

We fall silent. I’m not surprised, though; Noah and I rarely interacted so it not a surprise that we didn’t have anything to talk about.

Then, unexpectedly, he pulled a stash from his pocket. Lit it and then took a slow drag.

"That’s not good for you," I mutter, eyeing him worriedly. "I thought you quit."

Things were hard for him after Chloe’s death. He spiraled. He fell into depression, became an alcoholic and even started doing drugs. His parents had to take him for rehabilitation after he wrecked his car one day driving home while high.

"I did," he says. "But today... I need something to ground me. Something to take the edge off. Something to help me cope with the pain. Alcohol wasn’t doing shit.”

To my surprise, he offers me one. I’ve never smoked before. But against my better judgment, I take it, bring it to my lips and inhale.

I cough violently as my body tries to fight the foreign substance. Tears stinging my eyes as the smoke invades my lungs. It burns like hell.

Noah barely glances at me before turning back to the city view below.

"The twins turned five a few weeks ago," he begins. "She had everything planned for their big five. Down to the last detail. Today just hit hard. She won’t be there to watch them grow up. To see all their milestones. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to grow old together, Sierra. But I lost her. And she’s not coming back."

I want to say something, but what can I say? Nothing I do or say will make things easier or better for him. Instead, I take another drag, this time it’s much easier.

"Does it make me selfish that I wish it had been me who died?" he asks softly “That way I wouldn’t be the one going through this constant pain.”

"It doesn’t make you selfish, Noah," I reply. "It makes you human."

If you had asked me whether I could imagine sitting with Noah, smoking and talking like normal people, I would have said hell no. But here we were. It’s foreign. It’s different… And almost peaceful.

We start talking about Chloe. Our memories of her. They were all mixed. There were happy ones and sad ones. We talk for what seemed like forever. By the time we stop, I feel lightheaded and I am probably high.

The air between us is comfortable, something that has never happened.

Through the haze and foggy mind, I realized that I hadn’t called or texted Aunt Ava to let her know that I had found Noah.

I’d done what I promised. It was time to go home.

I’ve never been this relaxed before. I felt so happy. Sure, everything felt slow and distorted, but who cares when I feel so good?

I stand up and immediately stumble. The world around me is spinning… And why the hell did the distance between me and my car seem longer? Also, what was up with the burst of colors? Why did they seem brighter than they should be?

"Where are you going?" Noah’s voice sounds so far away.

"Home," I reply. "I’ll text Aunt Ava to let her know that I found you."

I don’t look back, just turn to leave, a strange, happy excitement bubbling inside me. I just wanted to get home and cuddle with Blackie.

With that in mind, I take a step forward but then—I am stopped.

Frowning, I turn and find Noah holding my hand.

"Don’t go," he begs, voice rough and vulnerable.

"Noah—"

"Please don’t go, don’t leave me," he pleads. "Just for one night... help me forget. I want to feel alive again. I want to forget the constant ache."

My frown fades when I meet his storm-grey eyes. He looks so lost. So desperate.

I want to help him. But who is going to help me when he decides I no longer have any use?