I expected Noah to greet me, but instead his chauffeur picked me up in a sleek black car, his eyes concealed by dark sunglasses. The car wove through Manhattan, finally stopping at an impressive building on 5th Avenue.
I followed him into a marble lobby and then into a plush elevator. I hesitated for a moment before pressing the button labeled 'Rooftop.'
As the elevator ascended, I felt a mix of emotions stirring inside me. My heartbeat echoed the steady clank of the elevator moving up its shaft.
The door opened, and a blast of wind hit me, as if to welcome—or warn—me. I blinked against it and saw Noah, not just waiting for me, but standing next to a helicopter, its rotor blades starting to spin. He reached out his arm to me, his eyes reflecting the cloudy sky. "Fly with me."
"To the clouds, Noah Cloud," I replied, a playful smile on my face.
We buckled ourselves in, and Noah took the controls, lifting us off the ground. I gripped his wrist, my nails accidentally scratching his skin. I closed my eyes involuntarily.
He laughed.
"Don't tell me you're scared, Stephanie."
I searched my purse, my fingers finding a bandage—a Hello Kitty one. I applied it to the small wounds my nails had made on his hand.
"I'm just nervous during takeoff, but once we're in the air, I'm fine."
He looked at the childish bandage, then at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You're really something, Stephanie."
Our eyes locked, and I felt a surge of warmth in me.
I glanced at the window, where a patchwork of clouds surrounded the busy streets of New York below. The city seemed to have its own kind of magic, a steady heartbeat that was more than just the sum of its smog and dirt.
"This might sound cheesy," I said, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
"But when things got bad with my mom, I'd listen to Alicia Keys' 'New York' on repeat. It was my refuge."
"Bad, how?" Noah asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"My mom doesn't like me much."
"Isn't that how all families are?"
I didn't answer.
Noah's eyebrows furrowed, a cloud passing over his face.
"I was wrong about you, you know."
I raised an eyebrow, amused.
"So, you thought I was just another one of your Upper East Side hookups?"
He blushed, fumbling for words.
"No, no, I—"
"Good," I cut him off, smiling to ease the tension. His eyes became serious, almost probing.
"Has your mom always been like that?"
I turned away, a knot forming in my stomach.
"It's hard to say when it began. Maybe when I was twelve. She would throw insults as if they were natural, even hit me sometimes. I always hoped that maybe if I just cleaned a little more, tried a little harder, she'd change. But she never did."
Noah's eyes met mine, filled with a sorrow that matched my own.
"Steph."
"But that taught me one thing, though: I am strong, and I don't need anyone else to tell me that."
Taking a shaky breath, I felt a single tear roll down my cheek.
"I left home when I was eighteen."
Noah shook his head in disbelief, his voice filled with admiration.
"You're incredible, Steph."
"I was just trying to survive," I admitted, wiping away the tear.
He chuckled ruefully.
"At eighteen, I would've been a wreck if my mom hadn't served me breakfast after a hangover."
A ripple of laughter escaped my lips.
"Mama's boy, huh?"
"Guilty as charged," Noah admitted, grinning.
"After my mom remarried when I was ten, I became the golden child of the family."
"Any siblings I should know about?" I inquired, curious to learn more about the family dynamic.
His eyes twinkled.
"Two. My older sister, Bella, is a firecracker—witty and soaked in sarcasm. You'd love her. Then there's my eldest brother, Charles. He's more the strait-laced type."
"Strait-laced? Sounds like an interesting dynamic."
Noah's expression turned solemn.
"He's in his forties and recently went through a divorce. No kids, though."
He paused, taking a deep breath before adding, "The kicker is, my dad had an affair with his wife."
I couldn't contain my shock.
"Holy shit, Noah!"
He ran a hand through his hair, his face tense.
"Yeah. Charles was devastated. He cut off all contact with him, and we haven't spoken to him in five years."
"And your dad?" I pressed, my eyes widening as I processed the soap opera he'd just described.
"He's planning to marry Charles' ex-wife in December. We're estranged— Mom and me, at least. Bella still talks to him."
"I can't help but say it," I blurted, "what a jerk." I quickly covered my mouth, regretting my impulsive comment.
Noah let out a sad laugh.
"You're not wrong. He is a jerk."
There was a momentary silence before I sighed, "Sometimes, I wish we lived in a world where everything was just... normal, you know?"
Noah met my eyes, his grin returning.
"But wouldn't that be boring?"
Laughter bubbled up from within me.
"Very true."
He pointed towards a sleek, glass high-rise piercing the night sky. The uppermost level radiated with light, like a beacon in a sea of darkness.
"That's my place. The whole top floor is mine."
Peering closer, I realized the rest of the building was shrouded in darkness.
"Why so gloomy down below?"
He chuckled, "My sister lives a floor below me. The rest of the building? It's basically Charles' personal storage unit. Might as well be a haven for spiders by now."
I laughed, imagining cobwebs taking over swanky condos.
"Poor Charles."
His eyes met mine, a hint of earnestness clouding his playful demeanor.
"You should meet my family sometime."
"I'd love to," I paused, "although maybe not your dad. Wouldn't want to become his next romantic conquest."
Noah burst into laughter.
"Believe me, he'd realize his mistake and send you right back."
Feigning offense, I gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder.
"Hey now."
As the helicopter touched down with a soft thud, he turned to me, his face inches from mine.
"I promise, I'd never let him steal you away."
Then his lips met mine in a kiss infused with sincerity and a hint of mischief.
Breaking the kiss but still close enough to feel his breath on my lips, I grinned.
"Now it all makes sense—why your 'girlfriends' check in on you so often."
He looked at me, bewildered but pleased.
"Still can't figure out how you're single."
Stepping out of the helicopter, I turned to him, my expression softening.
"After James died, I built a fortress around my heart." I paused, searching for the right words, "you're the first person who's made me want to lower the drawbridge."
He bowed dramatically, a grin stretching across his face.
"Does this mean I'm your Prince Charming?"
"More like his horse," I quipped, the corners of my mouth twitching upward in amusement.
His eyes sparkled, taking on a mischievous glint as he closed the distance between us.
"Am I now?" In one fluid motion, he swept me off my feet and hoisted me onto his back, giving my rear a playful slap for good measure.
"Hey!" I protested, though my laughter betrayed any semblance of real objection.
"Looks like you've got no choice but to ride this horse now," he declared, his voice tinged with playful arrogance.
A bubbly chuckle escaped my lips. Riding this 'horse' had, after all, been a tantalizing thought ever since the morning sun had graced the sky.