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But I’ll be glad to be home so that things can be normal again. I miss Ava. I want to see her and Maria and want to sleep in my own bed again.
Being here in the States was a big adventure, a nice change of scenery, and have some me time.
But it’s brought with it misery and heartache, and that’s the part I can’t wait to escape.
I just want the storm to blow over so the sun can come out again.
Chapter 23
Noah
When I arrive at Nat’s house, I stomp my feet inside the door to get the excess snow off my shoes before I walk in deeper.
“I’m here!” I call out to announce my presence. The house is warm and bright. It must be so nice to come home to something like this, rather than my cold, dark apartment. I’ve never cared before, but tonight, it all looks different.
My stomach twists. It’s because of Raven everything looks different, and I hate it. I just want to go back to the way things were. Before I hooked up with her again, before I realized what I want out of life now.
Before everything changed.
Kylie bounds to the door, already wearing pajamas after her supper and bath.
“Uncle Noah!” She flies into my arms.
“Who’s this big girl clinging to me?” I ask, feigning shock after I hug her and set her down again. “You’re far too grown up to be Kylie.”
“It’s me,” she giggles, pulling up her shoulders and blushing. “Seriously, you saw me last week!”
“Really? Kylie?” I ruffle her hair. “No, I don’t think so. Kylie’s definitely shorter.”
“Stop it, Uncle Noah,” she giggles. I tickle her until she collapses in a fit of laughter.
“Oh, no. It’s definitely Kylie. I’d know that laugh anywhere.” She lies on the floor, gasping for air, face split into a grin. “What’s Mom feeding you? You’re taller every time I see you!”
She sighs. “My veggies.”
I laugh. “That’s a good girl.”
“I guess so,” she says and pulls a face. “Mom says one day I’ll start liking them but I don’t know when that’s supposed to happen.”
She walks to the kitchen where Natalie’s doing the dishes.
“Hey, sis,” I say and kiss her on the cheek.
“Can I go watch TV?” Kylie asks.
“You get an hour, then it’s bedtime,” Natalie says.
Kylie skips out of the kitchen, leaving us together.
“Here,” I say, grabbing a dish rag from the hook and starting on the wet dishes in the rack.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You work too hard. Let me help you withsomething.”
She doesn’t argue. Even if she did, it would be a battle she’ll lose. I can see how overworked she is. She has dark circles under her eyes and she’s lost weight over the past couple of months. She’s not taking the time to eat properly—the only time she really has something decent is when she’s home to cook for Kylie, and they have healthy food like veggies so Kylie gets a well-balanced meal.
“You have to slow down, Nat,” I say. “You’re working yourself to death.”
