Chapter 144: Hundred and Forty Four

The house smelled the same. I hdn’t been here in years, but the familiar scent hit me like a truck, as memories of Declan and I in this house flooded in.

Wood and pine and the faintest trace of the lavender cleaning supplies the housekeeper always stocked in the bathrooms. It hit me the moment I stepped over the threshold, and for a second, I just stood there with my bag dangling from my hand, caught in the overlap of the past and present.

Noah didn’t pause for even half a second. He shot through the doorway like a cannonball, sneakers squeaking on the polished wood floor.

“This is huge!” he shouted, his voice bouncing from the rafters. He darted into the living room, then the kitchen, then back to the hallway, hair sticking up in every direction. “Mommy, there are so many rooms! Declan, do you own a castle?!”

Declan gave me a side-eye. “You warned me he had energy, but this is next-level.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “Just wait until he realizes there’s no Wi-Fi.”

As if on cue, Noah reappeared, gasping dramatically. “Declan! There’s a giant fridge!”

Declan chuckled, setting his duffel bag down by the stairs. “Well, that’s it. Vacation highlight - the refrigerator.”

I trailed after them, brushing my fingers along the wood-paneled wall. My chest ached with all the memories stacked here: drunk and sprawled on the porch steps with Declan, hot, heavy kisses on the staircase, whispered promises that had felt so final. Now there was Noah, bouncing like a pinball between furniture, declaring every chair and rug a discovery. Life had folded in on itself and started again.

“Hey, bud,” Declan called, “what do you say we check out the lake before it gets dark?”

Noah stopped mid-bounce. “Yes! Can we swim?”

“Not yet,” Declan said, ruffling his hair. “But I’ll teach you how to skip rocks.”

Noah gasped, his whole body buzzing. “What’s that?”

“The most fun thing in the world,” Declan said solemnly.

The dock creaked under our feet, the lake shimmering as the setting sun lit the ripples in it. Declan crouched and picked up a flat stone, turning it between his fingers.

“Trick is finding the right one,” he explained. “Flat. Smooth. Like this.”

He let it fly. One, two, three skips before it plunked into the water.

“Woah!” Noah shouted so loudly a flock of birds took off from the far trees. “It bounced on water! Mommy, did you see that?!”

Declan grinned, already crouching again. “Your turn.”

Noah grabbed a rock, staring at it for a few seconds, tossing and turning it in his hand, and hurled it with all the force in his small body. It plunged into the lake with a single sad splash.

I bit my lip. “Hey, one skip is better than none.”

“It didn’t skip at all!” Noah cried, scandalized.

Declan crouched next to him, adjusting Noah’s wrist. “Don’t throw it like a baseball. Snap your wrist. Like you’re flicking water at someone.”

Noah squinted in concentration, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. He tried again. This time the rock skittered once before sinking.

“I DID IT!” he bellowed.

Declan ruffled his hair. “Told you it was the most fun thing in the world.”

I stood back a little, arms wrapped around myself, watching them. The sight of my son shrieking with delight, his father patient and easy at his side, made my chest so tight I thought it might split. This was what I’d always wanted for Noah. And what I’d never let myself dream I could have.

Dinner was a comedy of errors. Noah insisted he was old enough to chop vegetables, which resulted in a lopsided cucumber and a near-miss with his finger. Declan teased me about over-salting the sauce until I shoved the spoon at him.

“You think you can do better?”

He tasted it, smirked, and said, “Needs more chili.”

Noah, mouth full of rice, piped up, “I like Mama’s cooking better.”

Declan clutched his chest like he’d been stabbed. “Et tu, Noah?”

By the time we were done, we’d polished off everything on the table. Noah leaned back in his chair, groaning like he’d been mortally wounded.

“I can’t move,” he said dramatically. “If zombies come now, I’m useless.”

Declan tapped his plate with his fork. “Guess we’ll have to defend the castle without you.”

Noah pointed weakly at me. “Mommy will save us.”

Declan laughed, shaking his head. “That, I don’t doubt.”

Noah didn’t last long after dinner. He curled up on the couch with his toy dinosaur, mumbling about zombies until he fell asleep mid-sentence. Declan scooped him up without a word, carrying him upstairs. I followed a few steps behind, watching the way Declan tucked the blanket under Noah’s chin, gentle and sure.

When he came back down, the house was quiet, the only sounds the creak of the dock outside and the chirp of crickets. I was standing by the sliding doors, staring at the lake silvered by moonlight.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked softly, coming up beside me.

I shook my head, arms wrapping tighter around myself. “It’s strange. Being here again. Everything’s different, but it feels… the same.”

His voice was low. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

I risked a glance at him. He was looking out at the water The sight of him there, steady and real, made something inside me shake and soften.

“This feels right, doesn’t it?” he murmured, turning his gaze on me.

My throat tightened. “It does. And that terrifies me.”

His expression softened. “It doesn’t scare me. Not at all.”

The air between us was heavy with longing. He shifted closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and that tiny touch sent a shiver racing through me.

I turned before I could lose my nerve, and our lips met.

His hand came up to cradle my jaw, thumb brushing over my cheek, and I leaned into it helplessly, my chest bursting. The way his mouth moved against mine was like a rhythm. Familiar, sweet, mine.

When we finally broke apart, I rested my forehead against his chest, breathing in the warmth of him.

“Declan…” I whispered, everything I couldn’t say lodged in that single word. I wanted him so much. I loved him so much. And things were finally right.

“Shh.” His fingers slipped into my hair, gentle, soothing. “My dove, let me taste you.”

Declan and I stood there like that by the sliding doors for a long while, listening to the night. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable at all. With his arms around me, his lips on mine, nothing had ever felt so good.

Eventually, I pulled away, clearing my throat. “I should check on Noah.”

Declan nodded, and we padded quietly upstairs. Noah was sprawled sideways across the bed, mouth slightly open, toy dinosaur tucked under his arm like it was a lifeline. His hair was damp from the quick shower I’d forced him into, sticking up in tufts.

Declan leaned on the doorframe, arms folded, watching with a smile that was too soft for me to look at for long.

“You know,” he whispered, “he kind of sleeps like you. The same way. No care in the world. Just lost in his sleep. And the way he folds his leg,” he chuckled, “And his loud breathing.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder. “I do not snore, if that’s what you’re implying.”

He smirked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You definitely do.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks heated all the same.

We tiptoed back downstairs, and Declan rummaged through a cupboard until he found an ancient board game missing half its pieces. “Monopoly?” he asked, holding it, his eyes glinting with challenge.

I groaned. “I hate Monopoly.”

“Perfect. I’ll win.”

We played a round, laughing quietly whenever Noah stirred upstairs and we froze mid-roll, like burglars caught red-handed. Declan cheated outrageously, sliding extra bills under his pile when he thought I wasn’t looking, and I retaliated by refusing to sell him any properties.

It was stupid and small and ordinary, and it was everything.

By the time we packed the game away, my stomach ached from laughing. Declan looked at me across the table, eyes warm, and the weight in my chest loosened. I let myself believe we wouldn’t have any problems anymore.