Chapter 23 Nora
NORA
THERE’S A KNOCK AT the door. Three quick raps.
Sighing, I drag my feet to the front of the house.
When I swing the door open, I don’t expect dark eyes to be blinking back at me.
Leasa stands there, her hair somehow even glossier than usual, however today she is without all the glamour she usually possesses.
She’s dressed in faded jeans, a white t-shirt, and her hair is pulled into a low pony.
I’ve never seen her with her hair back. She is always dripping in designer clothes and accessories.
She doesn’t look any less stunning like this, but she does seem more human.
Her arms are wrapped around herself like it’s colder than it is, her eyes flicking up to meet mine and then away just as fast. She looks so different. Not in the way she’s dressed – still put together, still effortlessly stylish – but something is definitely different. Like she seems softer.
‘Nora,’ she says quietly with a small smile. ‘Hey.’
‘Leasa,’ I say, unable to hide my surprise.
‘I—’ she starts and stops. Her mouth opens then closes again, like she’s trying to figure out how to say what she wants to say. ‘Can I talk to you?’
Every instinct tells me to say no. My jaw’s already tightening, heart thudding loud in my chest. My mind turns back to the cold looks she threw at me as she would pass me between classes, the words she spoke to me when she ambushed me in the bathroom, the way she was all over Zayden like a leech whenever I wasn’t around.
The way she even turned up to our first date to ruin it.
Anger unfurls inside of me at the thought, but the girl staring back at me right now doesn’t seem like the same girl.
So I nod, step aside. She walks in slowly. I cross my arms and wait. The silence stretches.
‘I’ve been awful to you,’ she says, finally. ‘And I know it. I just …’ she lets out a breath, shaky and unfiltered. ‘I didn’t know how to deal with everything. With him moving on. With you.’
Her voice cracks a little at the edges, and she doesn’t try to hide it. She looks up, meets my eyes for real this time.
‘I’m sorry. For all of it. You didn’t deserve that. Losing Zayden wasn’t easy on me. He’s a hard person to move on from.’
I don’t know what I expected – defensiveness, excuses, another ambush trying to convince me her and Zayden are endgame, but the way her voice shakes makes me pause and listen to her carefully. I have no idea where this is going.
I don’t say anything right away. I just stand there, caught between past bitterness and the unexpected sting of empathy. I still don’t know how I feel, but I can tell she means it.
‘What are you doing here? Zayden is out.’
‘I know,’ she says, and I recall Zayden mentioning he fears she might be tracking him. I stare at her, surprised she basically just admitted that shamelessly. ‘I’m here for you.’
The threat of a headache pulses behind my eyes at the thought of dealing with Leasa and whatever she is scheming right now. I don’t have the energy after everything else that has happened.
‘Whatever you have to say about Zayden and me, please just refrain from it. I can’t handle it right now.’
‘Firstly, I want to apologise for what I said to you when you were visiting Bliss Bay. That was uncalled for and I felt shit for weeks. It was hard for me to see Zayden moving on and seeming so much happier than he ever was with me. It had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and the boundaries I crossed following Zayden around. ’
‘Oh,’ I say, because I have no idea how else to react.
‘I am going to stop tracking Zayden. It’s a gross invasion of his privacy and I realise how wrong it was. I honestly did not think much of it, or what kind of person it turned me into, obsessing over him like that, until all the stuff happened to you.’
I blink, completely surprised at the direction this is taking.
‘It made me realise what I was doing and how wrong it was.’
I still have no idea what to do or say, so I stand there, just staring at her.
‘I know it won’t make up for how I’ve acted, but I’d like to do something for you, if you’ll let me.’ Her eyes turn to the table. ‘Can I sit?’
‘Er … sure.’
She strides over to the dining table and swings her bag onto it. She pulls out her laptop and sits down. Cautiously, I sit down beside her. When she opens her laptop, my eyebrows raise as I take in the screen. It doesn’t look like a normal laptop.
She begins typing, and I can’t keep track of all the different screens popping up on her desktop.
‘I’m going to need some things from you.’
With nothing else to lose at this point, I tell her my email and all other information she requests. After about ten minutes, she looks satisfied, pushing the laptop away from her.
‘Try logging into your accounts.’
I frown. ‘Huh?’
‘Your social media accounts. Trying logging into them.’
Still not following, I do as she says, and all of a sudden, I’m back into my accounts as normal. My jaw almost hits the floor as all my notifications start rolling in.
‘Oh my God,’ I breathe, eyes widening as I one by one log back into all my hacked accounts successfully, and everything looks normal.
I have been back and forth relentlessly with the different apps trying to prove my real identity, but since I had no real photos or anything of me, I have consistently been denied. ‘How did you do that?’
‘I specialise in IT security. I haven’t recovered many accounts before but I wanted to try. It worked.’ She smiles at me and for the first time ever, it’s genuine.
‘Wow, Leasa, thank you so much. You have no idea how incredible this is.’
She shrugs, closing her laptop, looking like it literally was easy for her to have done something that seemed so impossible to me. ‘No problem.’
‘Seriously, thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome.’
We stare at each other for a few moments. ‘I’m happy for him, you know. He deserves to be with a nice girl like you.’
I smile at her, touched by her words. Wordlessly, she gets to her feet, shrugging her bag back onto her shoulders. stiffly, I get up and walk with her to the front door.
‘See you around, Nora.’
‘See you,’ I say, still a little shocked as she exits.
My mind is still processing the last thirty minutes as I make my way back to the table and sink into the seat. I open my laptop.
The screen stares back, almost too bright. I log in to my accounts on this, since I was on my phone before. The notifications, the messages, the mentions, it’s instant.
The last thing I wanted was to see it all unfold, to dive into the chaos I knew was waiting. It’s now time to face it all, but I thought I’d be doing this from an outside account. I can’t believe Leasa just did that for me.
I take a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, then click on my notifications.
The comments start rolling in before I even open anything – ping, ping, ping – a steady stream of notifications.
Mentions. Likes. Retweets. Being tagged in people’s stories.
I’m almost afraid to look, but I do. One by one, I scroll through the messages, scanning them with a mixture of caution and hope.
‘You’ve given me courage to finally write under my own name. You’ve made me believe that I can write my own story. Thank you, Nora.’
‘Nora, I’ve followed Valiant Vixen’s books for years, and I never knew it was you. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing. I hope you know how much you inspire people.’
‘I just wanted to say that you’re a role model. Not just for writers, but for anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t fit into the box society made for them. Thank you for being real.’
Tears burn behind my eyes, sudden and unexpected, and I have to pause, blinking them away before they can spill over.
This isn’t what I thought I’d find. I was bracing myself for judgment, for ridicule, for people who would see me as a fraud or a fake.
Instead, I’m finding messages like this.
Messages from readers who get it. Who understand why I did it the way I did, and are standing with me.
Suddenly, the weight that’s been sitting on my chest since the article dropped feels lighter – like I can finally breathe again.
‘Honestly, I think you just became even more amazing. You’re real. You’re flawed. This only makes me want to read your books even more. Don’t ever apologise for being human.’
A lump forms in my throat and I laugh a little, staring at the screen in disbelief.
I’ve shown myself to the real world, and they’ve accepted me, which is more than I could have ever hoped for.
The day is here.
The damn wedding.
I feel like I blinked and the weeks flew by.
I stand in front of the mirror, barely recognising the girl who looks back at me. The baby-blue gown hugs my frame just right, flowing like liquid silk down to the floor, the neckline plunging, showcasing my best assets, but somehow makes me look soft and delicate at the same time.
My hair, usually a mess of waves, is now in neat curls, but still in my half-up, half-down style.
Usually I’d baulk at wearing a dress that shows off my figure so much, but I’m learning to embrace my curves.
Since I’ve been a little more daring and confident with my outfits, I’m surprised at how much better I feel.
Like I’ve had a total upgrade, both mentally and aesthetically.
I ducked out this morning and got my make-up done at one of the make-up stores in the shopping centre.
The make-up is natural and subtle – just enough to highlight my features without hiding them.
A soft rose blush warms my cheeks, my lips hold the faintest hint of pink.
Dainty gold earrings swing from my earlobes, paired with a bracelet that my mother bought for my eighteenth birthday.
Running my hands down the fabric, I glance at my reflection one last time, surprised that I feel beautiful.