Aria by Jennifer Hartmann

25Chapter Twenty-Five

Seven o’clock lingered at the forefront of her mind. Chelsie had attempted to occupy herself by calling her mother, sending some emails for work, showering – twice – and watching HGTV reruns on her hotel room television. Nothing seemed to work. The pit of ever-growing fretfulness continued to churn in her belly as the clock ticked down to that fateful hour.

When six-thirty rolled around, Chelsie checked her appearance in the mirror before heading down to the hotel lobby. She hadn’t bothered to get glammed up – this was not a date. This was the final part of her healing process. Chelsie combed her hair behind her ears and pressed her lips together, savoring the feel of the moist lip gloss she had just applied.

She looked different. She had changed – evolved. Despite the circumstances, there was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Chelsie wondered if Noah would notice it. Would he recognize her newfound self-worth? Would he appreciate it? Maybe Noah had been attracted to her darkness. Maybe her demons had pulled him in.

No. If Noah was drawn to broken souls, he wouldn’t have married Beth. She was the opposite of damaged.

No… Noah had most likely been captivated by the version of Chelsie that was yet to come – he had seen her potential. Only, he had no idea he would be the sacrifice Chelsie needed to make in order to reach that potential.

Chelsie took a deep breath and popped a pair of dangly, turquoise earrings into her ears. She straightened out her yellow blouse and reached for her purse. It was time.

It was another short ride over to the bar. Chelsie stared out the window as the familiar part of town came into view. Her stomach twisted in knots from the memories connected to the brick buildings, light posts, and the cracked sidewalks.

“Here you go, Miss.”

Chelsie blinked her eyelids. The sign to ‘Ernie’s Pub’ flickered before her, tearing down her resolve. She had a physical reaction to it. Her palms grew sticky and her mouth felt like the desert sand. It took a fierce pep talk to force herself out of the vehicle. When the driver pulled away, she saw him. Noah was standing outside the door, leaning against the distressed brick and puffing on a cigarette. There must have been an unseen force between them because Noah lifted his head at that moment and their eyes locked in a familiar hold.

An ancient swarm of butterflies came to life inside Chelsie, tickling parts of her that had been sealed shut. She wondered if Noah felt it, too.

Noah tossed his cigarette to the ground and tucked his hands into his pockets as he approached her. “You came.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

He studied her long and hard, and Chelsie had to lower her gaze under his scrutiny. She wondered what he was searching for. As Chelsie’s eyes landed on a fire hydrant in front of the pub, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. They were standing in the exact spot where Noah had collapsed on that fateful, winter’s night. Chelsie had cradled him in her arms, blood pooling all around them. She could still see it stained into the cracks and crevices of the cement pavement. It lived there now – an eternal reminder of her troubled past. No matter what happened between herself and Noah, they would forever be a part of these city streets.

“Should we grab a table?”

Noah’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Sure,” she said. It was all she could muster in that moment.

The pub was empty for a Thursday night. A few locals glanced up as they made their way to the back of the room. Everything felt so familiar – and yet, it felt like an entirely different life. They took their seats across from each other and Chelsie folded her hands out in front of her. She was biting her lip again, her eyes floating everywhere except for Noah. A waitress stopped by their table and filled their glasses with ice water, which Chelsie began to chug. Noah ordered a beer, and they sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“Shit, Chelsie, I don’t even know where to begin,” Noah said. He scratched his head with a sigh as he tried to string together his thoughts. “How are you?”

Chelsie was taken aback by his question. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like such an ordinary thing to ask considering their very unordinary circumstances. “I’m good,” she replied. “I’m really good.”

“I saw you on Ellen,” he admitted. “It’s a great thing you’ve started.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment. “It’s crazy how it all came together. I knew I needed to change my life, but I had no idea how big everything would become.”

Noah flinched at the word ‘change’.

He had been the biggest part of that change.

Chelsie brought the glass of water to her lips as the waitress returned with Noah’s beer. She decided to change the subject. “How is Rosa?”

Noah sipped on his draft beer, and Chelsie could almost see a renewed twinkle in his eye. “Rosa is doing great. She flew back home to Mexico shortly after I made a full recovery. We still get postcards from her.”

“She went back to Mexico?” Chelsie couldn’t help the feeling of joy that swept over her. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah,” Noah nodded. “She reunited with an old flame and everything. She, uh… thanked you in one of the postcards.”

Chelsie was unable to conceal the look of astonishment on her face. “What?”

“I actually brought it with me,” Noah said, reaching into his wallet. “I thought maybe you’d want to have it.”

Noah handed her the faded, folded up postcard.

Dearest muchacha,

Gracias, señorita. You were right. Mi Paco was waiting for me after all these years. Bendice su alma. El amor es el amor – “love is love”. It will always be waiting.

Wise words, señorita. My heart says gracias.

Rosa y Paco

There was a small polaroid photo attached of Rosa and Paco sitting by the beach. Chelsie hadn’t known she’d been crying until her tears seeped onto the postcard and caused the ink to run. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her blouse. “I – I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so happy for her.”

Rosa must not have realized Chelsie had left town if she’d sent Noah this postcard. Rosa was probably unaware Chelsie had abandoned her own advice and given up on her one chance at love. The thought felt like a blade to the heart. It felt like a silent betrayal.

“She’s a good woman. I’m glad she’s happy,” Noah said from across the table. He was studying her again. He looked to be searching for the perfect words. His eyes were scanning her face. “You look good.”

Chelsie swallowed and placed her hands into her lap. Her nails were biting into the heels of her palms. “I feel good,” she replied. It was the truth. She was the happiest she’d ever been. She hoped so hard Noah could see it, too. Maybe he would understand why she had to leave.

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

She recoiled at his words. Oh, it hurt. She knew it was coming, but it hurt. Chelsie looked up at the ceiling, forcing back a new wave of tears. “I am so sorry, Noah.”

He was leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “You just left,” he said. His words were hard and sober, but his tone expressed no emotion. “You left in the middle of the night with no goodbye. Especially after we had just…” Noah’s voice trailed off.

Chelsie finally saw a flash of sorrow dance across Noah’s eyes and she wanted to reach for him. Her first instinct was still to comfort him. “I know,” she acknowledged.

“You broke my fucking heart, Combs.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.”

She did know. She knew all too well because it had shattered her own heart into a million fractured pieces. Despite the wonderful life she had made for herself, Chelsie knew her heart would never be the same. Noah would always be a missing piece. It was simply the price she’d needed to pay. There was no redemption without sacrifice.

Chelsie was frazzled, her thoughts muddy. The room felt like it was closing in on her. “I – I have to go.”

Noah gawked at her, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

Chelsie grabbed her purse and stood up from the booth, unable to spare him a final glance. She moved through the bar and pushed open the main doors, gasping when the cold air invaded her lungs. Chelsie needed to get out of there. She had grown strong over the years, but Noah was her weak link. She needed more time. Maybe someday…

She was walking briskly down the sidewalk when she glanced to her right.

The alley. The alley. She stalled in her tracks, then backpedaled until she stood facing the opening. It was dark and wet. She could see cars passing by at the opposite end. Chelsie knew she should walk the other way and leave New York for good, but an invisible pull was dragging her into that alleyway. Her feet took on a mind of their own, and she found herself trudging through the gravel and rocks. Chelsie stopped a quarter of the way in and let the memories spill into every vein, every pore, every molecule of her being.

Then she felt him. He hadn’t made his presence known, but he was there – standing behind her, maybe a foot away. Chelsie turned around to face him. She needed to truly face him.

“It was the only way, Noah.” Her voice was strained, her emotions running high. She wouldn’t hold back this time. She needed to spill her guts to him. If it had to be in this alleyway, so be it. “It was the only way you’d let me go.”

Noah stood perfectly still. His body was shrouded in shadows. “You’re right,” he said. “I would have fought for you. I would have fought hard.”

“That’s exactly why it had to be like that. I wasn’t healthy, Noah. I was broken and I’d lost my way. I needed to leave. I needed to fix myself.”

“And I just fucking needed you.” His anger and resentment had bubbled to the surface. “I never saw you as broken or damaged. You were perfect in my eyes.”

Noah approached her in the darkness, his features coming into view by the light of a streetlamp. The tears were spilling from Chelsie’s eyes as she absorbed his words. She didn’t care if he saw her cry. She needed to feel everything, no matter how ugly it may be.

“I wasn’t perfect,” she croaked out. “I never went looking for perfection – I went looking for peace. And I found it, Noah. I’m happy. I’m alive. I finally feel like I’ve found my place in the world. I have purpose.”

“You never even gave us a chance,” he countered. “I could have helped you. We could have gotten through anything together.”

Chelsie shook her head adamantly, her fists balled up at her sides. “No. I would have dragged you down with me, and you deserved so much more than that. Sam deserved more.”

“You have no right to decide what my son and I deserve. You were selfish.”

Chelsie gaped at him, her skin growing hot from his accusation. “I was anything but selfish,” she argued. “The pain nearly killed me! I gave up the greatest thing in my life to save yours. You would have drowned, Noah. You might not see it, but I do. Look at everything that had happened up to that point – your broken friendship with Devon, your departure from the band, your tarnished media image, your life almost taken from you!” She stopped to catch her breath, her chest heaving with heated conviction. “Now, look around you. You have a beautiful wife and three amazing children. You have a thriving solo career. You’re happy, Noah. You’re successful. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand?”

Noah took a moment to process her words. Then he reached his hands out to cup her face. “I loved the hell out of you, Chelsie Combs. That was enough for me.”

Chelsie stared at him in awe until her face crumbled into a mask of unrelenting sobs. Noah pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest. He hugged her fiercely, one arm around her back, and his opposite hand knotted in her hair. Chelsie cried in his arms, her body shaking with years of stored up grief and open wounds. “I’m so sorry,” she said, weeping into the crook of his shoulder. She clutched to him. His t-shirt was balled up between her fists. His heart was drumming its heavy beats beneath his ribcage, and Chelsie felt closer to him than ever before. Her mind wasn’t racing with toxic thoughts. She wasn’t worrying about hurting him. She wasn’t overwrought with the stress of what could go wrong. She wasn’t analyzing every aspect of their relationship.

She was releasing. She was healing.

Chelsie was letting go.

“It’s okay,” Noah whispered, his tone softening with concession. He rested his cheek against the top of her head while his fingers stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”

They stood in the alleyway clinging to each other for a long time. When Chelsie pulled back, she gazed up at him with a sense of absolution. “I’ll always love you, Noah. I’ll always be rooting for you. But I have no regrets.”

Noah moved his hands to her neck and pulled her in once more, placing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I’m rooting for you, too.”

They held each other a while longer, old memories passing through them both. The hum of the streetlamp was the background music for their dance of reprieve. When the chill of the autumn’s night got the better of them, they headed back into the pub for one last drink together. They sipped on whiskey and shared stories of their abundant lives. Noah spoke of Beth with the same spark in his eyes that had once been reserved for her. It becalmed her in a way. It solidified what she had known all along – she had done the right thing.

When ‘last call’ was announced, they finished their stories and their whiskey, and exited the pub. And as they stood in that familiar and painful spot on the sidewalk, they made new memories there. A memory of goodbye. A real goodbye – one that Chelsie had taken from Noah all those years ago. She hugged him tight, burning the scent of his skin into the marrow of her bones. This was the end of their song. This was their final note.

But the thing about songs is that they never really die. Months, years, even decades will go by, and that song will still play. Songs were never lost. They were never truly over.

A song lived on forever.