Chapter 5 #6
Down the hall, the guest room door opened once, then closed. Water ran in the bathroom. Footsteps moved softly across the hall.
Ella sat with Noah’s shoulder warm against hers and the bracelet box on the nightstand.
At some point, he reached for her hand.
She let him hold it.
In the morning, Lara was gone.
Not gone as in moved out.
Gone as in not in the kitchen, not in the guest room, not on the couch with her laptop and rental tabs open. Her coat was missing from the hook. Her purse was gone from the entry bench. The boxes remained upstairs, neatly stacked, like evidence of a person who intended to return.
On the kitchen island was a note.
Went for a walk. I’ll stay out of your way today. —L
Ella read it once.
Then again.
Noah came up behind her and took the note from the counter. His jaw tightened.
“She’s hurt,” Ella said automatically.
He looked at her.
She hated the automaticness of it. The way Lara’s pain still came to her mouth first, even now.
Noah set the note down. “She’ll manage.” He poured coffee. He handed Ella her mug without making a show of knowing which one it was. Then he sat at the island with her instead of carrying his coffee to the office. “I’m going to call my mom today,” he said.
“About what?”
“About the chain of communication. And the bracelet. And Lara.”
Ella’s stomach tightened. “She’ll think I’m being dramatic.”
“She can think whatever she wants while I correct her.”
She looked down at her coffee. It was the right thing to say.
At ten, Noah went into the office and called Margaret with the door open.
Ella did not listen at first. She tried not to. She had emails to answer, shower thank-you notes to begin, a work report she had been avoiding. But Noah’s voice carried when he was firm, and this version of firm was new enough that she found herself standing very still in the hall.
“No, Mom,” he said. “I’m not angry. I’m being clear.”
A pause.
“Because Lara is not planning this wedding. Ella and I are.”
Another pause, longer.
“I know you like her. I like her too. That is not the point.”
Ella leaned her shoulder against the wall.
“No. Do not call Ella overwhelmed. She is not overwhelmed because she has opinions about her own wedding.”
Her eyes burned.
Noah listened for a moment.
Then, sharper: “Mom. Stop.”
Silence.
“I asked Lara to stay because she needed help. Ella opened our home to her. That does not mean Lara becomes the person you call instead of Ella.”
Ella pressed her hand to her mouth.
“No, I’m not making you choose sides. There are no sides. There is my relationship, and I need you to respect it.”
That was when Ella had to move away. She went into the kitchen, gripped the edge of the counter, and breathed through a feeling too large to name.
When Noah found her fifteen minutes later, his face looked tired but calm.
“She cried?” Ella guessed.
“Mom? No. She got chilly, then apologetic, then practical.”
“Terrifying sequence.”
“Deeply.” He leaned against the opposite counter. “She said she didn’t realize she was making you feel sidelined.”
Ella nodded.
“She also said she’ll apologize to you.”
“She doesn’t have to.”
“She does.”
Ella looked at him.
He did not back down.
“She does,” he repeated.
Something inside her settled another inch.
At noon, Lara came home.
She looked like she had been walking for hours. Hair wind-tangled, cheeks flushed, eyes red but dry. She came in quietly, saw Ella and Noah in the kitchen, and stopped near the door. “I talked to the landlord,” she said.
Ella’s hand tightened around her mug.
“She can let me in next Friday,” Lara continued. “The previous tenant is out. They just need to clean and make some small repairs. I’ll move then.”
“That’s good,” Noah said.
Lara nodded.
Friday was six days away.
Ella felt relief first.
Then guilt about the relief.
Then anger about the guilt.
Lara looked at Ella. “I texted Adrian and told him to delete your number unless you contact him directly. He apologized too, though obviously that’s on me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to stay out today. Not in a dramatic way,” Lara added, attempting a smile that did not quite work. “I’m going to measure the apartment and buy cleaning supplies and try to start the next phase of my life.”
Noah’s expression softened, but he did not step toward her.
Ella saw Lara notice that. Saw her absorb it. Something flickered in her face so quickly Ella almost missed it. Not sadness. Not exactly.
Anger.
Then it was gone.
“Good,” Noah said. “Send me the time for Friday. I’ll help move boxes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Lara nodded, eyes brightening again, and Ella felt the room tilt subtly toward her hurt.
But Noah stayed where he was.
Ella loved him for it.
Lara went upstairs.
Noah turned back to Ella.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to celebrate. Not yet. Nothing was fixed simply because a boundary had been stated. But for the first time in days, Ella did not feel like the only person holding the line.
She opened the window above the sink. Cold air moved into the kitchen, clean and sharp, cutting through the last trace of vanilla.
On Friday, Lara would leave.
Ella held onto that.
On Friday, Lara would leave.