“Had you really stopped taking your Adderall?”
His mouth twisted to the side. “Let’s just say I wasn’t getting it through legal means.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Part of it was me. I hate how it makes me feel. Sure, I can focus, but part of me feels dead inside—like everything is too stable, like I lose part of me, as stupid as that sounds.”
“No, I’m an artist, I get that. I need the emotional highs and lows to do my work.”
“Yeah, well, an engineer needs slow and steady, not a fuck-up like me. After I stopped taking it my freshman year, I could tell I was screwed. But I knew I’d disappoint my dad if I went back on it, and he’d know if a doctor prescribed it to me since I was on his insurance.” He glanced at her. “Like I said, my dad hated me relying on medication to do well in school. And honestly, I don’t know that he would have offered me a partnership if he thought I had to live with it for the rest of my life.”
Her anger started to rise. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was. I think he considered it along the same lines of being an alcoholic or a drug addict. My need for medication to remain on task was a weakness to him.”
“And your mother stood for that?”
“There was a lot of hidden context, Lib. We compartmentalized things. My mother and I had our relationship. My father and I were mending ours. We all kept things purposely separate, probably in case my progress crashed and burned. And it was a good thing too. It’s the only thing that kept my mother from turning her back on me after he died.”
Oh God. The person he’d killed was his father. But Josh had told them all last June that his dad had died from a heart attack. “What happened, Noah?” she asked softly.
“Like I said, he came to see me. Just dropped by.” Noah pulled his hand from hers and ran it through his hair. “But I’d set up a meeting that afternoon. In my dorm room.”
He stopped and she realized he needed encouragement. “You were buying drugs.”
“Yeah, Adderall. But they weren’t cheap. At that point I no longer took it every day. But I had finals, so I needed more. My source told me he’d sell me twenty pills on credit, and he’d give me a discount if I sold some myself. It wasn’t hard. I knew guys without ADD who’d buy it, so it was a no-brainer. But Dad was there when Vic showed up. And although none of what I just told you was even mentioned that afternoon, my father figured it out pretty fast, even if he didn’t have all the facts.”
“He thought you were a drug dealer.”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.
Libby thought she was going to be sick. Poor Noah had only wanted his father’s love and attention. But part of her was pissed at his dad, pissed that he’d allowed Noah to go to such desperate lengths to please him.
“I’d never seen him so angry,” Noah said so quietly that Libby had to strain to hear him. “His face turned red and his veins bulged and it didn’t take a genius to see he was about to stroke out.”
“What happened next?”
“He ripped the document to pieces, telling me what a bitter disappointment I was and how stupid he’d been to believe I could change. He told me no drug dealer would ever be part of his business and he was still considering whether he’d disown me as a son. Then he stomped out and I never spoke to him again.”
The muscles in Libby’s back knotted. The rest was obvious. “When did he die?”
“Three days later.”
Oh God. Only three days? No wonder he felt responsible. “And your mother? What did she say?”
“I don’t think she even knew. Like I said, we compartmentalized our relationships. But some nights I wonder if I should tell her I’m responsible for killing her husband. Would she forgive me? I know Josh never would.”
“You didn’t kill your father, Noah.”
He didn’t answer, but then what did she expect him to say? He’d lived with this guilt for well over a decade. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that her absolution would make it go away. “Is that all you’ve got, McMillan?” she asked. “Hell, my past is more riddled with shit than that.”
He spun to look at her then, the desperation in his eyes breaking her heart. Maybe he thought she could give him absolution for his wrongs, but she’d learned years ago that she couldn’t give anyone what they needed. She was incapable of it. But for the first time, she wanted to change. She wanted to have more with him. She wanted to share everything—past, present, and future.
But it was a huge risk. They were both fuck-ups. There was no disputing that. The chances were far greater that they would break up and when they did, it would all burn in an epic crash.
Libby was a survivor, but she knew she’d never survive a breakup with Noah.
Chapter Thirteen
For the first time since his father died, Noah felt like some of the crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The guilt was still there—he wasn’t sure that would ever go away—but it had eased a bit. Before today, he’d never considered telling anyone his deep dark secret. In fact, he’d planned to take it to his own grave, but somehow, he had found himself wanting to tell her. He suspected she was the only person who might truly understand.
Someone else might have wanted a different reaction from her—hugs and murmurs of semi-sincere sympathy—but Libby had given him exactly what he needed: she’d insisted his father’s death wasn’t his fault and she’d put his experience into perspective.