He takes out half of the folders and then starts rummaging through the rest of the box. I hesitantly take a step towards him but Gabe gently tugs my elbow back and shakes his head at me.
“Let him be. This is his process. He knows what he’s doing,” Gabe whispers in my ear.
I have never seen Noah in his element.
He’s intense. Laser focused.
Almostferal.
His jaw is ticking, mouth pursed in thought and when he seemingly finds what he’s looking for, he strides across the room to Ben.
Ben is still running information I gave him last night. He’s trying to piece together two decades worth of information between my mom, Aunt Patty and Penelope.
“Here. Find me what you can about this woman, right here. See if you can draw a match to a courier.”
Gabe had labeled the folders by month and year.
Noah pulled out all the folders of the year we met.
I don’t remember the day, but Noah does. He pulled pictures of me helping a mother out with her groceries in the parking lot of the café I used to work at. Then he had Ben cross reference it with surveillance photos and came up with a match.
A random person I helped was a courier?
“Noah?”
His mouth is set in a grim line as he settles his palms on the metal desk between us.
“I need you to try not to panic, okay?”
I nod, my gaze flitting between him and Adrian, who’s in his playpen playing and watching a TV show on a tablet.
“I need you to write down every single person you remember coming across. Every landlord. Every boss. Every coworker or friend you’ve ever had.”
Mina hands me a pen and paper.
I stare at it for a bit. My hand is shaking so much, I can’t write a single letter.
I feel Noah move to stand behind me. His arms snake around my waist while he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
I don’t remember everyone, especially last names of people I worked with, but the ones I do remember are landlords and bosses. I stopped having friends in high school after Mom got sick, and I ended up having to stay home or work to take care of her.
My list of acquaintances is close to nothing.
I do my best to write what I do remember with a less than steady hand. As soon as I’m done, Noah takes the paper from my hand and adds a name to it.
I recognize the name as the real estate agent who sold us our house.
Ben takes the list and adds it to his search, more windows populating his screens.
A series of pings slash through the room. Ben straightens in his seat, his eyes zeroed in on the information generating on the middle screen. His fingers fly across his keyboard and he starts moving windows to the left screen as he gestures for Gabe to approach his desk.
I’m about to ask what’s going on when Noah’s fingers thread through mine as he grips my hand in his. He raises it to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles.
I don’t know if it’s the sensation of his touch on my skin, but for a moment I feel peace. I stare at my husband’s eyes as he stares into mine and the rest of the world stands still.
Everything around us ceases to exist.
My gentle giant. I fell for this man hard and fast.