Chapter 210
It’s been hours since I crawled into bed, and yet sleep refuses to come anywhere near me.
Blackie is curled against my ribs, purring softly in her dreams, while I lie wide awake, staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling like taunts.
I’ve tried everything. Soft music, counting sheep, meditating until my jaw clenched from the effort.
Nothing works.
My body is exhausted, heavy with the kind of tired that should knock a person out instantly, but my mind won’t shut up. It won’t stop spinning, pulling me through every thought I’ve tried so hard to avoid.
Every time I close my eyes, Noah is there.
His behavior today sits right at the front of my thoughts, driving me insane as I try to figure out what shifted. It felt like we woke up this morning and he was suddenly different. Almost like he was trying… fighting, even… to be the boy I used to love.
It makes no sense. Why now? Why after everything?
Our one night together was a clusterfuck in every possible way. His reaction afterward told me everything I needed to know. Yet today he acted… differently.
And the worst part? His change comes right when I decide to move on. Right when I meet someone who, for the first time since him, makes me feel something other than heartbreak.
Someone who looks at me without ghosts behind his eyes.
Is the universe testing me? Punishing me? Playing some twisted joke?
After what feels like years of tossing and turning, I give up. I slip out of bed, slide my feet into my slippers, and wrap my cardigan around my shoulders.
Blackie lifts her head as if to scold me for moving, blinks once, flicks her tail, and promptly goes back to sleep.
I open my door quietly and step into the hallway.
It’s darker now; most of the lights are turned off. Only a few wall lamps cast thin pools of warm light along the corridor.
I start toward the stairs, my footsteps nearly silent on the carpet, only to stop dead in my tracks when something catches my eye.
The door Mrs. Turner warned me about. The one that is always closed and only Noah has the key to… It’s open.
My heart comes to a stop and so do my feet. The door has always been locked and each and every time I passed by it, I always wondered what was behind it. The fact that it’s open now only means one thing: Noah is inside.
Soft light spills through the crack, cutting a warm line across the dark hallway. There is no noise or movement.
I stand there, my mind lost for a second, wondering what’s happening inside there.
My pulse starts racing, loud enough that I swear it echoes off the walls. I tell myself I should walk away. Turn around. Pretend I never saw a damn thing.
I tell myself I should go back to my room. Mind my business. Act like a sane, respectful adult, but I can’t. My feet feel glued to the floor. It isn’t from shock that the door is open. It’s from curiosity.
This room has been a quiet itch under my skin ever since I first got here. The secrecy. Mrs. Turner’s evasive answers. Everything about it screamed don’t ask… so yeah, I’m curious as fuck.
I move closer, slowly and quietly. The last thing I need is Noah catching me peeking where I shouldn’t be. I might actually die of embarrassment or he’d murder me.
My heart pounds harder the closer I get. It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel like I’m sneaking into a haunted room. And yet that’s exactly what this feels like.
When I reach the door, I grip the frame lightly and look inside, and if I thought the house was stuck in the past, I was fucking wrong. This room is worse. So much worse.
Perfumes are lined neatly on a mirrored tray, their liquid darkened with age. Shoes arranged in perfect pairs. Clothes hung in garment bags. Jewelry boxes stacked on the dresser. Lotions I’m positive expired years ago.
Everything is untouched, like she never left, and in the center of it all is Noah.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched slightly forward, clutching a dress in his hands like it’s a lifeline. Not just holding it. Gripping it. As if letting go would make something shatter inside him.