Chapter 208
We stand at the door and wave as the car drives away. The moment the taillights disappear, the air in the house changes. It’s like someone lets go of a held breath. I exhale slowly and so does Noah.
“That was…” I start, then stop. “Unexpected p>
“That’s one word for it,” he mutters.
I can’t tell if he’s relieved, annoyed, or just silently combusting. Probably all three.
And I’m not much better.
Before either of us can figure out what to do with ourselves, two small hurricanes latch onto us. Nova grabs my hand. Nolan grabs Noah’s. And suddenly we’re being dragged toward the stairs like unwilling sacrifices.
“Story time!” Nova declares in a sing–song voice, tugging me with shocking strength.
“Two stories,” Nolan corrects, dead serious. “One because Grandma and Grandpa came, and another because they left p>
That makes absolutely no sense but I’m not arguing with a five–year–old whose IQ is apparently higher than my own.
“You can’t add stories because they left,” Nova argues.
“Yes, I can p>
“No, you can’t p>
Nova snarls. An actual tiny snarl, before smoothing her hair and saying sweetly, “Fine. But what about adding one more because we were good the whole day p>
Nolan considers this like a miniature CEO reviewing a merger. Then he nods solemnly. “Yes, that we can agree on and also we didn’t tattle on you for lying to Grandma p>
He shoots me and Noah a pointed look… I knew that lie was going to come back and bite us in the ass.
“We didn’t lie,” Noah grumbles. “We just didn’t tell the whole truth p>
“Which is basically lying,” Nolan fires back without missing a beat.
Noah glares at his son. Nolan glares right back.
“I don’t know why you lied,” he continues, folding his arms like a tiny judge. “But if Grandma knew p>
“She would whoop your butts,” Nova finishes proudly, then she throws her head back and cackles in a full villain laugh. 1
It shouldn’t be funny or maybe it is, because Nova isn’t wrong. Aunt Ava has been known to whoop butts when her kids get out of hand. Once, when Noah cursed at her, she shoved a sponge in his mouth and smacked him with a cooking spoon. He was seventeen.
“No, wait,” Nova interrupts. “Daddy would get whooped more, because he’s the bigger liar p>
Nolan nods sagely. “Obviously. Adults lie better than kids, so their punishments should be bigger p>
Nova gasps, then laughs so hard as she says. “That’s so true… can you imagine daddy getting whooped p>
I’m trying not to laugh, because Noah’s expression is priceless.
He mutters under his breath, “I am not getting lectured on morality by two tiny gremlins p>
“We heard that,” Nolan says.
I lose it. A laugh bursts out before I can stop it, and Noah shoots me a look, half warning, half something softer
“Okay, enough.” Noah sighs. “Two stories p>
“Three,” Nolan counters immediately, negotiating like a miniature CEO preparing a hostile takeover.
“Two. You won’t even last through all the stories p>
“I have all the cards, Dad. Three stories. Take it or leave it p>
Noah glares, but Nolan doesn’t budge. Eventually, Noah’s shoulders sag in defeat. “Fine p>
Nolan doesn’t notice, but I do. I catch the small, proud smile Noah tries to suppress. The kind only a parent has when their kid outsmarts them.
We let them lead, my fingers wrapped in Nova’s smaller ones. When we get to their room, they push their bedroom open and get in.
Noah pauses at the doorway for a second, like he always does, scanning the room out of habit. His eyes sweep the beds, the window, and the nightstand. He’s checking. Making sure everything is where it should be.
Then he steps in and the tension in the room drops just a little. The twins don’t notice that either. They’re too busy climbing onto the bed.
“Dad, sit here,” Nolan declares, patting the right side.
“And Sierra, sit here,” Nova says, pointing to the left.
I hover for a second, unsure. “Are you sure you don’t want just your dad tonight? I can p>
“Noooo,” they groan in chorus.
Before I can protest again, Nova crawls across the bed, reaches out, and grabs my wrist with her tiny hand. “We want both of you p>
She says it so simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Noah doesn’t say anything, but he sits exactly where Nolan pointed. I sit on the opposite side, and the twins squeeze into the middle, with Nova pressing into my side and Nolan leaning toward his father, like they’ve done this a hundred times. Like this is normal for us.
“Which book?” Noah asks.
“This one,” Nolan says, grabbing one from the stack on the nightstand.
“No, that one,” Nova counters, reaching for another.
“We read that last week p>
“I forgot p>
“You always p>
“Okay,” I interject quickly, snatching both books before they can reenact a battle scene. “We’re picking something new tonight p>
They consider it seriously, then nod.
I open the book. The twins settle, Nova leaning her head lightly against my arm, Nolan lying on his stomach, chin on his hands.
Noah turns slightly so he’s facing them too, one knee bent on the mattress, one foot on the floor. His arm rests on his raised knee, close enough that if I reached across the twins, my fingertips could brush his wrist.