Chapter 72
Once the words are out of his mouth, Uncle Rowan and Aunt Ava both fold their son into their arms. Their voices are soft, murmured with love, and for a moment I feel like an intruder in something private. My chest tightens, and before I can suffocate, I slip quietly out the back door.
The evening cool air greets me, brushing over my skin like a balm, but it does nothing to ease the storm twisting, inside me. My bare feet sink into the grass with each step, grounding me in a way I desperately need. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the wind comb through my hair. It still doesn’t help. The turmoil inside me still rages
I lied to Aunt Ava and Uncle Rowan. People who have been nothing but kind to me, who have only ever opened their home and their hearts. I hate the bitter taste it leaves in my mouth. I feel like a monster for having to carry this lie and partake in the lie I’ve been forced to say.
Then there is Noah. It shouldn’t sting. It shouldn’t hurt… but it still does. Even in death, Chloe still has a grip on him. I honestly don’t know what she did or what spell she cast on him. It shouldn’t bother me, but if I am being honest, deep down it does, and I hate it.
And then there are the twins. Those bright, beautiful souls. I shouldn’t feel this attached after one dinner, after one laugh, after one child’s tears against my chest. But I do. The way Nova looked at me, like I was safe, like I mattered, it shredded me in a way I can’t explain.
I wanted to hold on a little longer. Wanted to be surrounded by them. To hear them laugh. To hear them talk. I just wanted to be around them. They’re Chloe and Noah’s kids. Two of the people I despise most in this world, yet I can’t bring myself to hate them. I can’t bring myself to feel anything except adoration for them
I try to understand this feeling, this string tugging me towards them, but I can’t. It doesn’t matter anyway because I’ll have to keep my distance from them, and that alone breaks my heart.
Part of me wishes I never agreed to this dinner. That I had turned Aunt Ava down like I’d wanted to. But how do I say no to her? How do I deny her? It’s impossible, because all it takes is her soft voice and warm brown eyes, and I’d jump through hoops if she asked me to. 1
I spot the swing chairs that are as old as Iris, tucked beneath the old tree, the one I used to sit on when I was younger. I ease into one of them, curling my hands around the ropes and pushing off lightly, hoping I can rock my troubles away.
I stay lost in my thoughts. Nothing registering around me.
It’s not until I hear the soft footsteps that I realize I’m no longer alone. I look up, startled, and find Noah settling into the swing beside me.
For a moment, I just stare. His profile is carved in shadow, his jaw tense, and his eyes unreadable. Classic look for Noah when he’s around me.
Finally, he speaks. “Sorry p>
The word is rough, dragged out of him like it hurts to say it. It’s like that one simple word has been dragged from the pits of his soul.
“You have to mean it,” I say quietly, my voice steady even though my stomach flips. “Otherwise, it’s useless p>
His jaw ticks. “Saying it should be enough p>
The corner of my mouth twitches. I almost laugh. Almost. Apologies don’t come easy to him.
The only ones he’s ever witnessed him apologizing to are his mom, his sisters and Chloe. Noah simply doesn’t do apologies. He does what he wants, and if you’re offended, then that’s a you problem. He doesn’t give a flying fuck.
I tilt my head. “Did Aunt Ava put you up to this p>
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. I glance toward the house and catch Aunt Ava’s figure in the kitchen. window watching us. When I look back at him, he’s silent and stone–faced.
I sigh and mirror him, letting the quiet stretch between us. The swings creak, the night air hums and it’s awkward as fuck.
I feel like I’m drowning in it until he breaks it.