Page 120 of Falling Back to You

“Is Khia okay?” I asked, stretching out against the pillows.

“Missing you, but totally fine. After rooting for you and Uncle Myles, she took the loss pretty hard. Told the refs they made terrible calls. It was adorable to watch her shake her finger at the TV. I’ll send you the video.”

I grinned. That was my girl.

“Of course, she also asked why you were in the penalty box. Or the sin bin as she kept calling it.”

I winced. Pretty sure Van taught her that term. “She saw that part, huh?”

“It’s part of your job, Mr. Defense. So . . . you’re calling for a reason. Feel like telling me?”

“What if I said I just wanted to hear your voice?” Ugh, talk about unsmooth. Hailey had no right telling me I was suave. Because when it mattered, I was not smooth. I was a dirt road with potholes.

Noelle was quiet.

“Too much?”

“Cal . . .”

“Noelle.”

She snuffled softly in amusement, and I grinned at the normalcy of it all. Like the years between us were a blink. Nonexistent. That sobered me.

One honest conversation at a time.

“Why did you leave?” I asked hoarsely. “And don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ stuff again. We deserve better than that.”

“What do you remember about those days?”

“Lots of kissing,” I teased, trying to make her smile.

But it didn’t work because her voice was small when she added, “About my family drama specifically?”

“Stuff with Olive mostly. And . . . well, I guess your mom, but no one knew about that at the time . . . Except you, right?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you—?”

“Your dad sat me down and told me a few things in confidence.” I swallowed hard and softened my tone. “I forgave you years ago, but it hurt, Elle. I didn’t think hearts could hurt that bad. It was like grieving someone who’d died without actually having that final closure. But I want to hear your side. Please.”

“Can we switch to video then? I’d rather see your facial expressions than speak into the void and try to guess your emotions.”

I hit the video button before she even finished talking.

Exhaustion lined her face. Blonde hair in a messy bun and an oversized tee trying to slip off her shoulder. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“My parents were super strict with me, and they tried the same with Olive.”

I nodded, remembering. Noelle was engaged and still had a ten o’clock curfew. That had been one point of contention in our relationship. I thought she needed to stand up to her parents, and she was trying to honour them. It was a messy system—they were trying to wrangle their younger daughters, and to keep the peace, they roped Noelle into their same rules despite the age and maturity differences.

“I was the glue trying to keep everything together,” she went on. “Trying to get my family through a rough spot, plan a wedding, hold down two jobs . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced away.

“Don’t hide,” I begged.

“You already know about my mom. Well, I’m the one who found her. Words were exchanged and, well, it wasn’t pretty. Around the same time I found out she was changing wedding plans on me after I’d already confirmed things. She was reallocating the money they’d offered to foot the bill to get Olive into Juilliard in hopes she’d settle down.” She rubbed her forehead. “I was beyond mad. After everything I did and she . . . I was undervalued. Like all I was good for was free labour and saving everyone when they failed.”

I wished we were having this conversation in person so I could wrap her up in a hug. “You wanted someone to save you,” I whispered.

Noelle nodded, a haunted look in her eyes. “But no one showed up. My family was breaking, you were getting drafted, and I was drowning.”