Water pours into the kitchen sink. Noah shuts the water off after washing his hands. I finish wiping my hands up then I pass him the kitchen towel. The anger didn't go away like I wanted it to. He takes the towel from me and I see something in his hands. Red marks? I tilt my head to the side but keep going. The mad rides me so damn hard I'm damn twitchy. Stepping around Noah to gather ingredients for the biscuits. Then I gathered the baking tin. He sits at the kitchen table and watches me closely. His eyes were still filled with that something I couldn't put my finger on. We didn't talk. Not a single word after Carly left. I preheated the oven for the biscuits.

Last time he couldn't even stay in the same room with me. My gaze connects once more with his moving hands. Then he quickly hides them under the white tablecloth from me again. ...Nerves? I stop by his chair in the kitchen. It hurt, it's something Noah didn't do before. Quietly saying he couldn't trust me with things he went to great effort to hide. Most people wouldn't know Noah was autistic. He was part of that generation of people who had autism before they made huge efforts. His mother was told by her priest and church group that giving him bleach would help cure him. Yeah, fucking crazy. I remember talking to him about it more than once. If his father had not hired Sabali's and Maurice's mother to work with, he probably wouldn't be able to talk. The music and arts therapy saved his life.

A part of me waited for Noah to say something. When you give him time to say it he normally does. He wasn't walking away like last time so maybe he wants to fire me again. Mission accomplish I work for Sabali and Zoey now. I'm good and fired. The witchy bitch is dead.

Those ocean-blue eyes never connect with me and as always I missed his eyes the most. His eye contact with me was rare but when it's on you, it feels like when he used to tell me I shined. I felt it in my soul. For him I shined, and I loved that. Now, I probably don't shine for him anymore. I stand by the table and give him the time he needs. Red dots bloom on the white tablecloth like a sickly red rose blooming in a cemetery.

"Noah?" His ocean eyes met mine. Then those blues slid away from me and hide behind his long hair. The sandy locks are much longer than it used to be, he needs a haircut. "Noah, let me see your hand." I put the biscuit ingredients down on the table. Holding my hand out to him and I said the words softly worry coating each syllable. "Let me see your hands.... please."

Noah places one of his hands in mine dwarfing mine. I turn his hand over palm up. Oozy red crescents of blood dig into the meaty part of his palm. He also had several older brown scars. My eyelids close shutting out the pain in his hand. Oh, Noah what have you done? Wetness gathers behind my vision, and my world shrunk to this tiny kitchen that is filled with water. That drowns like everything else in my life.

I connected that something I saw in his gaze that I couldn't place with when he hid his hand from me. It was so hard to place that anger and pain. But I got it now. It fell horribly into place. I held out my other hand for his other hand. He placed it into mine and they were matching sets. His fingernails had dug in so deep that blood was in his palm.

We needed to talk. Hell, we needed to talk on the day he left.

"Noah, You can't use my body to hurt yourself." Because being with me was painful, maybe he couldn't figure it us out? But whatever was going on he couldn't use my body to hurt himself. That is so fucked up, I have no words. "I don't mind angry sex, we can talk it out. We can fool around, I'm fine with that. But you can never use my body to hurt yourself. You will never touch me like that again." Hia sandy locks fell back and ocean blue caught me. "Ever." I sunk promise into the word.

Neptune's stubborn streak set in. That same expression when he fired me spread across his face. "Why did you do that?" He said the words slowly as if he'd been holding on to them tightly. I couldn't let go of his hands but the question had my legs almost go out on me. Without grace, I drop into the chair next to him. His gigantic hands take up so much space and I cradle them. Yeah, I knew what he was asking.

I had to know first though. "Why didn't you say bye to my kids before you left? You know you weren't coming back..." He didn't answer, not a word. Maybe he didn't have one. Well, I had an answer for him.

"We were messing around Noah. My contract was up, I didn't think it was a good idea for me to live here and mess around with you. It would take a lot more to take that kind of risk for me and my family," I told him. It would be one big ass risk to be fucking around and living here at the same time. With two very nosey kids. The whole thing was a time bomb. "It's a big risk, with the kids and everything else. When I came to work for you technically we were homeless. I stayed at a hotel for close to a month going into debt to do it. The job meant everything and I am thankful but I'd only take that kind of risk..... If I thought you were in love with me." Because I'm in love with you Noah. For me you are beloved, and I'd risk so much for you. I kept the words in barely clawing it back and letting him make the move.

"I made myself a promise when I left my husband." The sigh left my lips, and I brought his big hands closer to me in my lap. "I deserve to be loved. I deserve Forever. I'm not settling for anything less to take that kind of risk."

"Do you love me, Noah?" I asked him the question with so much fear I felt it in my soul. Asking that from the depths of my soul and it took everything I had in me. Noah's blues never left mine when we talked. And I waited for his answer. He begins to squeeze his hands together. His blood-coated nails head towards his palm and I stop him before he could. Putting my hand in the way got his blood on my hands. His nervous eyes skittered around the room ricocheting off mine. Our fleeting eye contact breaks.

It took him so long to answer me. Noah said quietly, "No, I like you."

"But... you don't love me," I said back to him.

"No," he said.

It hurt... it hurt so much.

Time passed and I was frozen. I played the words in my head in a loop again and again.

Being with Noah any way I can get him is addictive. But the cost to both of us is too high.

It's desolate at the same time it's addictive. That addiction was almost unstoppable between us. I knew it. This thing between us is ugly. It feels like Neptune and I are sinking down into the ocean depths into more and more blue. But you're still drowning. If I was honest from the first day I met Noah, I was drowning. I'd been drowning since the moment I heard that butt dial and my husband cheating on me. Being with Noah that short time almost fixed me until reality came. And just because we had a relationship didn't mean I wasn't still drowning. Worst of all I found a way to fuck it up and sink us both. Because when push comes to shove just because I love him didn't mean I wasn't still going under. If anything, it meant I probably wouldn't ever get another chance to come back up when I finally fully lost him. Loving Noah guarantees that there's no coming back for me. Noah doesn't love me back.

The scream inside my head was like a wounded beast... but life is like that and sometimes it is what it is.

He doesn't love me.

I let the words swirl around again in my head as evil as blood down the drain. The feelings settled into my stomach and I was weighed down. But I love him.

The oven preheat timer goes off. Carefully, without stumbling. You can do this. I place Noah's hands on the table softly. Times up.

"Thank you for your honesty, Noah." And I was thankful for his honesty. He doesn't say things unless he means them. He's earnest and kind. But a liar Noah isn't. Then I get up and wash my hands. Letting the soapy water run and that blood run into the drain. Change the subject, Tari. Keep it together keep going just a little more. A few more steps, I can't breathe.

"My mom's biscuits are sinfully good." The cheer in my voice couldn't be helped. The short-lived joy was as fleeting as the wavering images on the surface of the water. Everything's better with biscuits my mother would tell me. But maybe not this time mom. "Moms used to sell them for extra money when we lived at my uncle's after my father's death." I never talk about my childhood after my father died. When we lived with Eve's uncle on her mom's side. It wasn't that the memories were bad but it was such an unstable life. Talking to Noah was natural he always had that effect on me. He made me comfortable even when I was sad. Just by being around, I'd want to tell him things. I chattered away about the secrets to the recipe. The half lard half freshly made butter that is frozen and cubed. How you don't need to put your hands in it too much to make the mix right. And I watched as Noah's shoulders eased after our conversation. But it was mostly me chattering to calm things down.

I breathed in and out slowly while talking to him. My voice was falsely cheery and as even as I could make. Every second the weight of my decision finds new ways to bring me lower. To bury me in my watery grave. To truly fuck me over finally. I'd become accustomed to the bright spot Noah was in my life. Even when he was angry with me and what was coming next was more than I had. More than I could give.

"It's 12 to 15 minutes for biscuits generally but when baking it keeps cooking. At about nine minutes in I eye it up. If it's the summer I take it out at 9 or 10 minutes because it just keeps cooking. In the winter, I give it 11 minutes." I slid the uncooked biscuits in. "The most important thing to remember is it keeps cooking." I picked up the first aid kit. Noah's hands were still on the table where I left them. Carefully, one wound at a time I cleaned it out. Noah, you work with these hands what are you doing...

We sat quietly together. Me cleaning out his hurt and him not moving an inch. His eyes trailed my actions as if I was some riddle he was trying to figure out. When I finish I wanted to kiss the scars. A habit but I didn't do that. Instead, I clean up the mess. Then I took the golden biscuits out. While they were still hot, I took two out and put them on a plate. Then split it and added apple butter and cut apples making a sandwich. I walked the plate over to Noah and set it in front of him.

The few times have initiated new contact without being invited to touch first. I couldn't think of a single time I did the more, I thought about it. But this time. This time might be goodbye and so I touched this beloved man's cheek. My hand grazed it so soft. I held it there for a moment and he was warm. His sandy locks brushed my fingertips. "Noah, when you're finished please take the biscuits out to everyone. They're waiting." I walked out of the kitchen.

a/n: The edits are kinda thin on Noah because I didn't want yall to wait. But this chapter will probably get fatten up a tiny bit. No extra info but certain parts where she's thinking need to be better marked. But since this actually upset the fuck outta me. It's going to be some of the last stuff I edit and fix but I wanted my read-along people to know. Cos you know I dig yall.