Chapter 59
Ishould have known I’d end up back here. I truly thought I could stay so angry at him that I’d never step foot near him again.
And I was angry. But I could stay angry in a warm bed, couldn’t I?
I pulled into the driveway and parked behind his truck. I stared at the cabin mansion for a long moment, an onslaught of memories from three months ago crashing over me.
A similar pang to homesickness hit my gut. But I brushed it aside. Surely I couldn’t have missed this place that much?
But the ache that didn’t immediately go away said otherwise.
I stepped out of my car and he was already coming around the other side to help me retrieve my bag from the passenger seat.
“I assume you still have a key?” he asked, handing my duffel to me.
“Yeah,” I said.
He nodded, his jaw clenching.
Not trusting myself to say anything more, I turned away from him and walked up the driveway to the garage entrance and then slipped the key that was still on my key ring into the slot. I stepped inside a few moments later.
The familiar stairwell greeted me, and the sight of it made something inside my chest ache. I hadn’t realized how much I’d longed for this place during the last three months of constant drifting.
When I flipped on the lights at the top of the stairs, I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. But it definitely wasn’t that everything would be left exactly where it was.
The blanket I’d abandoned was still draped over the back of the couch. My coasters sat neatly on the coffee table in their designated tray. The remote to the TV was by the lamp. My main hot chocolate mug was still on the counter. It was as if he hadn’t touched a thing.
Something fluttered in my stomach and I forced myself to squash it.
He’d lied about my dad. I needed to remember that.
I walked into the bedroom, set my bag down, and crawled beneath the covers. The soft sheets that smelled like lavender were a welcome change from the faint cigarette smoke ones I’d been living in for the last few days.
I expected to lie there, unable to sleep. I assumed my body would hold a grudge the way my heart did.
But it didn’t.
The moment my head met the pillow, sleep began to overtake me. My eyes grew heavy, and I drifted off far too quickly.
It felt like my body subconsciously knew I was home.
Even if I refused to admit it.