Chapter 31 #4
I watched her pull away, the sleek tail-lights of her car disappearing around the corner.
The silence of the street felt heavier now, but the fucking nausea was gone.
Mia’s voice was still a dull echo in the back of my mind, but as I turned the key in my own front door, all I could think about was the heat of Carrie’s hand on my neck and the fact that I had twenty-four hours to figure out how to tell her I was hers—on my terms or her own.
I stepped inside and shrugged off my jacket, hanging it on the post at the bottom of the stairs. I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes, the familiar, slightly worn scent of home wrapping around me. My dad was already in the kitchen, the whistle of the kettle a steady, domestic hum.
I headed into the lounge and found my mum settled comfortably on one of the sofas Carrie had bought, watching the TV that Carrie had also provided. Seeing her look so at home amidst those gifts made my chest fucking flutter again.
“Hi, love." My mum smiled, and thank fuck, there was actual colour in her cheeks today.
I sank onto the cushion beside her. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
"I think I’m having a good day," she said, a soft smile playing on her lips as she muted the TV.
My dad wandered in, handing her a mug of tea and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
My heart felt full just watching them. For all the shit we had been through, their love had never been the problem.
They were just teenagers when they had me, diving straight into the workforce without a second thought for qualifications.
Married at eighteen, moved into this house, and had spent every year since just trying to keep their heads above fucking water.
The house had shifted from council-owned to a private company years ago; they didn't kick us out, thank fuck, but they jacked up the rent enough to keep us in a state of fucking permanent, low-level panic.
All they had ever really known was each other, and me.
Dad went to sit on the opposite sofa, but Mum immediately started fussing about him being in his work clothes. He let out a theatrical groan of a man in deep pain, but he got up anyway, heading upstairs to change before he was "permitted" to sit on his own furniture.
Mum turned her smile back to me. "I saw Caroline through the window. I’d hoped she might stay for dinner.”
A pang of guilt stabbed at me. I really should have fucking thought this through. “Yeah, it would’ve been nice, but she’s swamped. She runs a few companies on top of the lecturing, so her 'break' isn't really a break.”
Mum nodded understandingly. When she was home from the hospital and recovering, I’d crawled into bed with them one afternoon while Carrie was away.
I was honest with them—mostly. I explained who she was, and while they were worried about the obvious fucking ethics of the student-teacher thing at first, it didn't last. Not after they spent days being looked after by her. They saw us together and realised that, as fucking weird as it might be on paper, we just fit. They’d worried about the age gap, too, which led to the fucking startling realisation that I didn’t actually know Carrie’s age.
I suspected she might be as old as my parents, but I bypassed that conversation so fast my head fucking spun, and thankfully, they didn't push it.
Mum pulled me out of my head again. “I know she’s your first proper girlfriend, Alex...”
I groaned, the weight of the last few days threatening to spill over. “Mum, please...”
“Let me finish.” She shook her head, her expression softening.
“I really like her, love. I wasn't sure what to make of her at first,” she said, her face hinting at the fact that she was still a bit fucking baffled by the age gap and the fact that Carrie practically dripped diamonds.
“But seeing you two together...” She swallowed, her eyes welling up with emotion.
“Mum,” I said gently, taking her hands in mine. My heart was fucking breaking.
She cleared her throat, tapping her hand over mine. “It’s just... it’s nice knowing someone cares for you like that, love. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Someone to look after you the way you look after us.”
Oh, my fucking heart.
Dad came back down in clean clothes and looked between us, sensing the shift in the air. “What’s happened?”
Mum waved him off, wiping her eyes. “Oh, I’m just being silly.”
Dad looked at me, and I just sighed. Fuck. This really wasn't helping the knot of complicated feelings tightening in my gut.
"Oh, I was just telling her how happy I am that she has Caroline around," Mum said, sniffing back the last of her tears.
My Dad sank into the armchair, nodding in heavy, solemn agreement.
"Don't get me wrong, darl," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"I was worried as hell when she first stayed here.
I thought a woman like that, in this street?
She was going to get stripped for parts by the fucking neighbours the second she stepped out of that fancy car. "
I couldn't help the small, lopsided smile that tugged at my mouth. The image of Carrie—with her designer heels and cold, intellectual stare—facing down our local neighbourhood watch was actually fucking hilarious.
"But she can hold her own, your Caroline," he continued, a note of genuine respect in his voice. "She didn't flinch once. She just rolled up those expensive sleeves and got on with it. She’s got backbone, Alex. I like that in a person. Especially the person looking out for my girl."
My Caroline.
The words echoed in my head, warm and fucking terrifying all at once.
To my parents, she was the woman who had stepped in when our world was falling apart.
They didn't see the "gilded cage" Mia had warned me about; they just saw a woman who loved their daughter enough to handle the fucking grime and the struggle without looking down her nose at it.
"She's... she's definitely something else," I muttered, staring into my lap.
"She's good for you," Mum added softly. "You’ve spent so much time being the strong one for us, Alex. It’s okay to let someone else be the strong one for you for a change."
I nodded, but I couldn’t find my fucking voice. The guilt I had felt for leaving her house today started to shift into something else—a realisation that maybe Mia was fucking wrong. Maybe Carrie wasn't trying to replace my life; maybe she was just trying to reinforce it.
I spent the rest of the evening in a daze, helping Dad with the dishes and sitting between them on the sofa, but my mind was already halfway across the city. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart fucking leapt, wondering if she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her.