Chapter 19 NORA #2
Opening up an email from last week that I somehow missed, I begin scanning it, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
I re-read it a few times. My manager is asking to jump on a call with me but essentially, we have some dates locked in for casting the movie and they’re willing to fly me over to the United States to be a part of it.
‘What?’ Zayden asks, side-eyeing me, sensing my excitement. I read the email out to him and he glances at me, a bewildered expression on his face. ‘Wow,’ he says once I’ve finished. ‘That’s amazing!’
‘So cool that I get to be a part of it!’
Immediately, I FaceTime my mum and she answers after a few rings.
I fill her in on the news and Zayden introduces himself.
We spend the rest of the trip on the phone to her, and I am so happy to hear her voice.
I miss her so much. I wish I could share this news with the other side of the family.
I’d finally feel like I’m bringing something to the table, but I’m not ready for them to see the real me yet.
They might know that I’m an author, but they are still clueless as to what my pseudonym is. I’d like to keep it that way for now.
When I shift in the seat, I wince at the soreness between my legs. We probably shouldn’t have, but the moment we woke up this morning, our bodies were moving together again, even though I was still tender from the night before. It was worth the pain, because it felt so good.
Zayden reaches over, placing a hand on my thigh.
I cover his hand with mine and run my thumb across his knuckles.
How we went from strangers to this honestly feels like a blur, but now I can’t imagine my life without him in it.
It’s crazy how quickly things can change.
I know people say you always feel like this when you’re first in love, but I truly hope I spend the rest of my life with this man.
‘I never want to know a life without you in it,’ I say quietly, looking over at him.
‘Me too,’ he replies, squeezing my thigh.
After being around Zayden, I’ve never felt so inspired with my writing. I feel like the romance in my books has come to life. My fingers wildly dart over the keyboard as the ideas and words flow out of me.
‘It’s kind of freaky when you do that,’ he comments, wearing an amused smile.
I pause. ‘Do what?’
‘Type so fast. I’ve never seen anyone type as fast as you.’
‘Oh?’ I ask, breathing a laugh. ‘I get so in the zone, I’ve got no idea what’s going on around me.’
‘I see that. How’s the book coming along?’ he asks.
‘Great! I was a little stuck for a bit, especially after the feedback I received. I mean, it was very true, but it just wavered my confidence for a bit. I feel like I’m back in full force now, though. Thanks to you.’
He looks pleased as he grins, nodding. ‘So, you mean, when I see this book out in the world, I can tell people I inspired some of the scenes?’
‘Yup,’ I answer. ‘Sure can.’
‘That’s hot.’
Smiling, I return to working. It doesn’t take long to get home. The house smells of baked goods when we step inside. Mason is laid out on the lounge, watching TV, and Anya is floating around the kitchen. It smells divine, whatever she’s cooking.
‘Oh no …’ Zayden trails off, holding his arm out across my chest to stop me walking any further. ‘Anya’s in the kitchen. Should I call the fire department now, or wait until the house is up in flames?’
‘Hey!’ Anya protests, looking offended. ‘I’ll have you know, this time I followed the recipe.’
Mason stays quiet with an amused smirk on his face as he watches the two siblings. Zayden half-turns to me, shaking his head. ‘Last time she made muffins with salt instead of sugar. My mouth’s still recovering from the betrayal.’
‘That was one time! He’s never let me live it down,’ she complains, but her tone is playful.
‘I’m scarred for life. What are you making this time?’
‘Banana muffins.’
‘My advice: get Mason to try them out first,’ Zayden mutters, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.
‘You’re so dramatic. You’ll be tucking into these the moment they’re out of the oven, just you wait.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he counters, raising a brow. ‘The only thing I’ll be being hooked to is the machines at the hospital.’
‘Zayden!’ I snort.
Mason laughs. ‘They do this a lot. You get used to it.’
‘Yes,’ Anya agrees, sighing theatrically. ‘Zayden is a bully.’
‘Just calling it like I see it.’
‘How was your weekend?’ Anya asks, leaning back on the counter.
‘It was good. Showed Nora around. Caught up with Mum.’
Anya doesn’t hide the look of surprise that passes across her face. Mason and her exchange a glance. ‘Oh, you did? How did that go?’
‘Yeah good.’
‘That’s it?’ she asks, offering him a deadpan expression. ‘That’s all you’re giving me?’
‘I mean, it was difficult when I first went over. Neither of us knew what to do or say. I’ve decided I need to put it behind me. He’s not here anymore, he’s not our problem.’ Zayden runs a hand through his hair. ‘We went out for dinner so she could meet Nora.’
‘Oh!’ Anya smiles, beaming at me, looking thrilled that Zayden introduced me to their mum. Her cheeks are touched with her signature pink blush as her smile widens. ‘How was that?’
‘Your mum is lovely. I can see the resemblance to both of you.’
‘Did you see the email from Coach about the extra practice?’ Mason throws over his shoulder, glancing back at us. Zayden strolls over to the lounge, placing down our bags as I beeline for the kitchen. I grab myself some water and take a seat at the kitchen island.
‘Meeting the parents!’ Anya says in a hushed, excited voice. ‘Things must be getting serious! Zayden doesn’t do that often, you know.’
‘It feels serious,’ I admit. ‘I care about him a lot.’
Anya claps her hands together, unable to hide her enthusiasm. It makes me so happy that she is supportive of us. It means a lot to me.
‘I have another art event coming up if you guys want to come,’ she says.
‘Of course!’
‘Speaking of, are you finished with my boots that you borrowed? I bought a new dress and those boots would be perfect with it.’ Anya asks, wiping her floured hands down the front of her apron.
‘Oh, yes! Sorry, I totally forgot I still had those. I’ll go get them now so I don’t forget.’
Grabbing my bag, I head up the stairs and rummage through my things, trying to remember where I put the boots.
A memory flashes in my mind of putting them up the top of my wardrobe at the apartment.
I don’t recall ever grabbing them when I was there last. Damn it.
I need to go back one last time and make sure I have everything before handing back my keys, but I was hoping to put it off a little longer.
Zayden appears at the door. ‘Turns out I have to go to the fields this afternoon.’
‘Okay, all good. I need to grab something from the apartment.’
‘Do you want to wait for me and do it tomorrow?’ he asks.
‘It’s fine, I’ll be in and out. I need to hand my keys back anyway, the admin team finally got back to me about ending my lease.’
‘Okay.’ He steps into the room, planting a kiss on my forehead. ‘I’ll see you later. Take-out for dinner?’
‘Sounds good.’
Thirty minutes later, I’m driving the route to the apartment, rain lightly pattering against the windscreen.
I give myself a minute in the car before going in.
Annoyance flashes through me. I purposely lived on campus to have the proper university experience, and those girls ruined it for me.
It feels like I was robbed of an essential rite of passage.
Bracing myself, I make my way up to the apartment. Opening the door, I step inside, scanning the familiar space. It’s just as messy as it was the last time I was here. Maybe I’m not missing out on much after all.
A rose petal sits on the floor and I study it. It looks identical to the ones that Zayden leaves for me. It must be left over from Emily’s flowers she received.
It’s quiet, and I breathe a sigh of relief that my roommates seem to be out. Going into my room, I pack up everything that’s remaining – the boots are thankfully exactly where I thought they were. I grab the cleaning products I borrowed from the house and do a wipe over of everything.
The last thing I need to do is vacuum the carpet, but when I go to the storage cupboard, the vacuum cleaner I had bought when I first moved in is no longer sitting where I left it. Gritting my teeth, I refrain from slamming the door shut in frustration.
The sound of running water upstairs captures my attention.
I jog up the stairs and notice that Riley’s door is ajar, which is a first. She always had everything locked tight to the point where I could never tell if she was here or out.
After a moment of hesitation, I slip into her room.
It’s simple, with barely any decorations.
Her walls are bare and the carpet is worn down right near the front door.
The room is so lifeless, it looks like it’s still waiting for someone to live in it.
I narrow my eyes and they land on the vacuum cleaner. It’s plugged into the wall. Compared to the rest of the apartment, her room is very clean. So she cleans her room but doesn’t contribute to anything else. Go figure.