Chapter 85
Sierra.
I woke up today feeling drained as fuck. I normally wouldn’t mind some alone time, but today the silence feels too heavy. It presses on me like a weight I can’t shake no matter what I do.
I should be resting; I should be grateful for a few days away from work, but all it does is leave me alone with my thoughts.
Why did Noah come?
He gave me his reasons, but no matter how I replay them, I can’t make myself believe him. This is Noah we’re talking about. The same man who once looked me in the eye and said the world would be better without me. The man who never batted an eyelash at my pain, who made it clear again and again that he wished would vanish
How am I supposed to believe he cares now? That he came here just to check on me?
My palms press hard into the counter as I shut my eyes. It doesn’t help. The thoughts don’t stop. The machine almost crushing me… Noah, the baby, Chloe… my head is a stormy mess I can’t get out of.
Since I can’t stop them, I do the only thing I can think of.
I clean.
I start with the dishes. Then the shelves. Then the hallway closet that hasn’t been touched since I moved here.
Anything to keep my hands moving, anything to drown out the noise in my head. I know they say you’re not supposed to run from your emotions, that you should sit with them, face them. But today? I just can’t.
I’d rather scrub until my knuckles ache, rather sort through junk and breathe in dust than sit on the couch with my thoughts circling like vultures.
Blackie follows me like the shadow she is, her little nose twitching as she investigates old bags and boxes. Every now and then her tail flicks against my arm, urging me forward, as if she somehow knows I need this distraction more than air.
And so, I keep going… until I find it.
A small bundle, tied with a faded ribbon, buried beneath an old blanket at the back of the closet.
I freeze.
My throat tightens as my fingers brush over the bundle. The paper is familiar, the handwriting even more so. I’d recognize them anywhere, because they were all from Chloe
I sink to the floor, the bundle heavy in my lap. For a long time, I just stare at it, my hands trembling as they hover over the knot. I don’t want to open it. I don’t want to see her words, her voice inked into pages I thought I had long since left behind. But I do.
These were written after I left the city, when my work started pulling me across places and projects. Back then, I didn’t mind the distance because it gave me an excuse to flee from my heartbreak. In all honesty, I was happy for Chloe, but I needed time to heal. Time to reset my heart.
The ribbon comes loose, and I pull out one letter at random, the paper worn and fragile.
“Dear Sierra,
Chop
I heard you left the city. Was it because of me and Noah? Because you couldn’t stand to watch us together? You should know, Noal was never yours. He was always meant to be mine. Still, I hope you can move past your jealousy and find peace.
-Chloe p>
“Dear Sierra,
I just wanted to let you know that we are well and very happy. We’ve been trying for a baby, and it feels like such a blessing. I know you always dreamed of being the mother of his children, but some things just aren’t meant to be. I truly hope you can be happy for us.
– Chloe p>
I suck in a sharp breath, pressing down the ache clawing at my chest. When I realized just how twisted Chloe was, I stopped answering her calls and texts. She turned to letters.
She didn’t write because she cared. She wrote to remind me of what I didn’t have. To brag. To make sure I still felt the sting of rejection.
“Dear Sierra,
I’m pregnant and we’re expecting twins. Noah is over the moon about becoming a father. I hope you won’t be too upset, but maybe this is the final proof that he and I were always meant to be together. 2