I tried to steady my breathing as my eyes lingered on the photo of the family I once had — smiling faces frozen in ti, mocking the hollow quiet of the house.
"Why, Sara... why you?" I whispered, voice trembling. First it was Louis, my husband, torn away from by my own doing... and now my own daughter.
I'd already filed report after report, each one feeling more useless than the last. All I could do was pray — pray that she was still out there sowhere. She wouldn't just run away. That wasn't her. That wasn't my Sara.
My mind spiraled, darkness clawing its way in. The thought of ending it all flickered faintly — a desperate search for relief from the ache that wouldn't leave .
Then ca a knock at the door—soft, almost hesitant, but it shattered the silence like a gunshot. My heart froze mid-beat. Maybe this was it... the mont of relief I'd been begging for.
Each step toward the door felt heavy, my body dragging itself forward under the weight of grief. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and reached for the handle, breath trembling.
The door creaked open.
And there he stood.
Louis.
Alive. Standing in the sa doorway where he used to greet when I ca from work, his eyes just as familiar and loving, as they once were.
"Alexandra..." he whispered, his voice trembling but gentle—so painfully familiar. His brown hair was still perfect, his face untouched by ti. Everything about him was exactly how I rembered—the sa warmth, the sa calm.
"Louis..." I breathed, my knees nearly buckling as he stepped forward and pulled into his arms. His embrace was desperate, crushing, like he feared I'd vanish if he let go. His scent hit —clean, faintly like cedar and smoke—and the years between us dissolved in an instant.
"Our daughter, she's—" I began, but my words caught between guilt and disbelief.
I felt his breath against my collarbone before he lifted his head and kissed , and for the first ti in forever, I felt loved. My tears mixed with the warmth of his lips.
"I know..." he whispered. "I know... your mother told ."
He kissed again, slower this ti, and I felt the ache of every lost year behind it.
"I'm sorry, Louis. For what I did years ago... I was— I wasn't right in the mind." My voice cracked, trembling as I spoke the words I'd buried for so long. "Just... give one more chance, please."
I cupped his face gently, my thumbs brushing away the tears that stread down his cheeks. His eyes—still so soft, so heartbreakingly kind—t mine, and I saw not anger, but understanding.
"That's why I'm here," he whispered. "I want to restart."
Sothing inside shattered and nded all at once. I pulled him close again, his head pressed to my chest as sobs wracked his body. I held him tighter, burying my face in his hair, the tears finally flowing freely.
For the first ti in years, the house didn't feel empty. The silence didn't feel cruel. I wasn't alone in my grief anymore. Louis was here—and maybe, just maybe, I could start healing with him.
-
I poked at the pancakes Elara had ordered for us, watching the syrup pool around the edges of the plate. The silence between us was thick—uncomfortable in a way that made my stomach twist harder than hunger ever could.
"So... are you mad?" she finally asked, breaking the tension with that calm, teasing tone she always used when she wanted to sound unbothered.
My fork scraped lightly against the plate as I tried to cut another piece. "No, not really. I'm just scared," I admitted, my voice quiet but firm. "I don't want you to be chased by the cops forever..."
Elara chuckled—low and careless, like it was all a joke. "Calm down, Noah," she says brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nobody's gonna be after or you anymore. She's gone. Forever. Now I don't want you thinking about that disgusting girl again, okay?"
Her words sent a chill down my spine, the sweetness of the syrup suddenly turning bitter on my tongue.
"Let's just forget about that ever happening, okay Noah?" Elara said softly, pushing back her chair. The scrape of the legs against the floor made flinch before she stepped closer, her shadow falling over .
She leaned down and pressed her lips against mine, the warmth of her mouth lting the tightness that had been building in my chest. For a mont, the world around us blurred—her scent, her touch, her breath—it was all that existed.
"I love you, Noah," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly against my lips before she kissed again, deeper this ti.
"I love you too..." I murmured back, my words barely leaving my mouth before she swallowed them in another kiss.
At last, she pulled away, leaving a faint warmth on my lips and an ache for more of her taste. I forced myself to focus back on my pancakes, the sweetness dulling the storm in my chest. Everything felt normal once again—just us, breakfast, and peace.
But beneath that calm, the thought clawed at : my sister—my girlfriend—had done sothing unforgivable. The fear twisted oddly in , equal parts dread and a bit of arousal...
Then ca a sudden, heavy knock on the door. My whole body tensed. My fork clattered against the plate. 'This is it,' I thought. 'They're here for her.'
Before Elara could react, I shot up and rushed to the door, hoping to shield her, to buy a few seconds at least. But when I opened it, the tension drained from my shoulders—it was only Bella.
She stood there with that familiar confident stance, arms folded, her expression soft but bright. Her toned fra filled the doorway, making shudder a bit.
"No school today?" she asked with that familiar clueless tone—classic Bella. I couldn't help but smile. "For , no, but for everyone else, yeah."
She tilted her head, brows scrunched like I'd just spoken an alien language. "Wait... uhhhhh," she muttered, rubbing her chin in deep "thought."
Then, mid-puzzle, her nose twitched. She sniffed the air a few tis like a bloodhound. "Pancakes? ... sausage?" Her gaze darted toward the table, eyes lighting up the mont she spotted the food.
I sighed, stepping aside with a resigned grin. "Co on in, Bella. I guess we can both skip today."
Without hesitation, she slipped past and plopped down beside Elara, who looked halfway between confused and mildly offended that I'd just invited her unannounced breakfast guest.
"Hi Elara, good morning," Bella greeted cheerfully, already reaching for a pancake with her bare hand like she owned the place.
Elara blinked, still processing the boldness. "Hello... Bella," she replied slowly, her voice carrying that polite tension that said 'what is this girl doing in my house?'
"Wow, thish ish good shtuff," Bella mumbled through a mouthful, snatching a sausage next and popping it into her mouth without hesitation, grease already glistening on her fingers.
I sat back down after shutting the door, the fra beside it rattling slightly — the picture of and Elara on our first date at Prince Pizza tilted just a little crooked.
"So, what made you wanna co knock at our door, Bella?" Elara asked, giving her that sharp, curious look. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, a habit she had whenever she was suspicious or impatient.
Bella couldn't answer right away — her cheeks were stuffed with pancake. She chewed, swallowed, and finally spoke. "I saw... Noah wasn't at the bus stop, and I started panicking and ran here. Pretty much that." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then added like it was nothing, "Can I have a glass of milk?"
I laughed under my breath — only Bella would barge into soone's house mid-breakfast and ask for milk. "Yeah, sure," I said, getting up and heading toward the fridge.
I poured her a tall glass of whole milk, the cold condensation already forming around the cup as I brought it over and set it down in front of her. Without a second thought, Bella grabbed it and chugged the entire thing in one go — ten seconds flat, maybe less.
"Jesus Christ, Bella..." Elara muttered, her tone caught sowhere between disbelief and amusent just like last ti when we had pizza with her.
Bella wiped the bit of milk off her lip with her jackets sleeve and grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry..." she said, smiling wide like she'd just done sothing impressive instead of horrifying.
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