Chapter 115 Sienna cones visiting
Hannah
I hear the front door close.
Soft.
Distant.
But it echoes in my head like something final.
Timothy is gone.
And the moment that thought settles…
Something inside me snaps.
My chest tightens so fast it almost hurts. My breath comes out shallow, uneven, like I’ve forgotten how to do it properly.
No.
No, no, no.
I push myself off the floor and stumble toward the bed, my movements rushed and clumsy. I crawl onto it, pulling my knees to my chest, arms wrapping tightly around myself like I can physically hold myself together.
“It’s nothing,” I whisper.
“It’s just a like.”
My voice trembles.
I start rocking.
Slowly at first.
Then a little faster.
My mind won’t stop.
It won’t listen.
It keeps going back to the same place.
Loretta.
She’s back.
What if she’s back?
What if this is how it starts?
A small thing.
A like.
Then a message.
Then…
Then she shows up.
And everything changes.
My stomach twists violently.
And Timothy…
My chest squeezes painfully.
Timothy will…
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“He’ll go back,” I whisper hoarsely.
To how he used to be.
Cold.
Distant.
Cruel.
Like I don’t matter.
Like I never mattered.
My throat tightens.
“And I…”
My voice breaks.
“I won’t be able to take it this time.”
That’s the worst part.
Not the thought of her.
Not even the fear of everything unraveling.
It’s the fact that I care now.
I press my forehead against my knees.
Tighter.
“I care about him,” I whisper.
The words feel heavy.
Too real.
Too dangerous.
“And it’s going to ruin me.”
Tears slip down my face quietly.
No sobbing this time.
Just silent, steady.
Because I already know how this ends.
Don’t I?
My hand fumbles for my phone.
I don’t even think.
I just call.
It rings once.
Twice.
Then…
“Hannah?” Sienna’s voice comes through, alert immediately. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow hard.
“I…I’m not coming in today, sorry. I can’t,” I say quickly.
There’s a pause.
“What? Why?”
My grip tightens on the phone.
“She….” I stop, inhale shakily. “Loretta liked my post.”
Silence.
Then…
“What?”
I let out a shaky breath.
“She liked my post,” I repeat. “On Instagram.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then Sienna exhales sharply.
“Okay,” she says. “Okay.”
“It’s nothing,” I rush out. “I know it’s nothing, but it doesn’t feel like nothing and I…”
“Hey. Hey.” Her voice sharpens slightly. Grounding. “Slow down.”
I try.
Fail.
My breathing stutters.
“I just… have a bad feeling, Sienna,” I whisper. “I don’t know why, but I do and I can’t shake it.”
There’s a brief silence.
Then…
“I’m coming over.”
I blink.
“What?”
“I’m taking the day off,” she says firmly. “I’m coming to you.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I do,” she cuts in. “Stay where you are.”
The line clicks dead before I can argue.
I stare at my phone for a second.
Then let it fall onto the bed.
Momo jumps up beside me almost immediately, like he senses something is wrong.
I pull him into my arms without hesitation.
He lets out a small huff but settles, warm and solid against me.
I bury my face into his fur.
“Stay,” I mumble.
He does.
Of course he does.
I curl around him, holding him tighter than necessary.
And then…
Everything goes a little distant.
Like I’m not fully in my body anymore.
Like I’m watching myself from somewhere else.
Time blurs.
I don’t know how long I stay like that.
Minutes.
An hour.
More.
There’s a faint knock at some point.
Voices downstairs.
Footsteps.
Then my door opens.
“Hannah?”
Sienna.
I don’t move at first.
Then she’s there.
Crossing the room quickly.
“Oh, baby…”
Her arms wrap around me, pulling me up into a tight hug.
Warm.
Fierce.
Protective.
And something in me….
Breaks.
I cling to her.
Hard.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I shake my head weakly.
“I don’t know why I’m like this,” I whisper.
“Hey,” she says firmly, pulling back just enough to look at me. “No. Don’t do that.”
Her hands cup my face.
“You’re allowed to feel things,” she says. “Especially after everything.”
I swallow.
“She just liked a post,” I say quietly.
“And?” Sienna shoots back. “After everything she’s done, you think you’re crazy for reacting?”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t know.
“She doesn’t get to mess with your peace like that,” Sienna continues, her tone sharp now. Protective in a way that makes my chest ache.
“I just…” I trail off.
“What are you feeling?” she asks more gently.
I hesitate.
Then…
“Scared,” I admit.
Her expression softens immediately.
“Of what?”
I look down.
“Of her coming back,” I whisper. “Of everything going back to how it was.”
Sienna’s jaw tightens.
“And Timothy?” she asks carefully.
My chest tightens again.
“He’ll go back too,” I say. “And I…”
My voice wavers.
“I won’t survive that.”
Her arms tighten around me again instantly.
“You will,” she says firmly. “But we’re not even there yet.”
I nod weakly.
She stays with me.
Talks me through it.
Pulls the thoughts apart one by one until they don’t feel as overwhelming.
Until I can breathe properly again.
Until my body stops trembling.
Slowly…
The tension fades.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough that I can think again without spiraling.
We end up sitting side by side on the bed.
Momo wedged between us, soaking up all the attention.
Sienna scratches behind his ears.
“Oh, I missed you,” she coos.
He wags his tail like he understands every word.
I smile faintly.
“You always miss him more than me.”
“Obviously,” she says without hesitation.
I gasp softly.
“Rude.”
She grins.
“Look at him. He’s perfect.”
I roll my eyes.
But I’m smiling now.
Really smiling.
“Come on,” she says suddenly, nudging me. “Show me around. I’ve barely seen this place properly.”
I hesitate for a second.
Then nod.
“Okay.”
We get up, and I take her through the house.
Room by room.
She comments on everything.
“Your room is massive,” she says, spinning slightly in place. “Like unnecessarily massive.”
“I didn’t design it,” I mutter.
“I would live here forever,” she says.
“Of course you would.”
Then I take her to my art room.
She stops at the doorway.
“Oh,” she breathes.
And then she walks in slowly.
Looking.
Really looking.
From one painting to another.
From canvas to canvas.
“This is… Hannah,” she says quietly.
I shift awkwardly.
“It’s just stuff I do.”
She turns to me sharply.
“No,” she says. “This is not just stuff.”
I look away slightly.
“It’s nothing serious.”
She narrows her eyes.
“You’re insanely talented.”
I laugh it off.
“Okay.”
“I’m serious,” she insists. “Why aren’t you doing more with this?”
I stiffen slightly.
Because I’ve heard that before.
And I know how it ended.
“I don’t know,” I say lightly. “It’s just a hobby.”
She studies me.
Like she knows I’m deflecting.
But she doesn’t push.
Instead…
“Fine,” she says. “We’ll circle back to that.”
I relax slightly.
“Let’s go downstairs,” she adds. “I want to eat something.”
“You just got here.”
“And I’m already hungry.”
I laugh.
“Of course you are.”
We head to the kitchen.
And before I can even suggest anything..
“I’m making cookies,” she declares.
I blink.
“You don’t know how to make cookies.”
She gasps.
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t.”
“I absolutely do,” she says defensively.
“You absolutely don’t.”
She grabs ingredients anyway.
“I’ll teach you.”
I raise a brow.
“This should be interesting.”
She grins.
“Oh, it will be.”
And just like that…
We start.
Flour.
Sugar.
Chaos.
And for the first time since that notification…
My mind quiets.
Just a little.