Chapter 39
Ellie's POV
The taxi's headlights swept across the Miller estate's iron gates as we pulled up the long driveway. Even after all these months, the sight of it still felt like coming home—the sprawling Victorian house with its wraparound porch, the ancient oak trees casting shadows across the lawn, the warm glow from the windows cutting through the early evening darkness.
The driver helped me with my bag, and I paid him quickly, adding a generous tip. As he drove away, I stood there for a moment, gathering myself.
You're here for Richard and Caroline, I reminded myself. Not for Lucas.
The front door burst open before I could knock.
"Ellie!" Caroline's voice was breathless with joy. She stood in the doorway, backlit by the warm interior lights, one hand pressed to her chest as if to contain her emotions. "Oh, sweetheart, you're finally here!"
My carefully maintained composure crumbled at the sight of her. She'd lost weight—too much weight. The light blue dress that had once fit perfectly now hung loose on her frame, and the medical bracelet on her wrist caught the porch light with its dull gleam. But her eyes—those same amber eyes Lucas had inherited—lit up with such genuine happiness that my throat tightened.
"Caroline." I moved forward, and she met me halfway, pulling me into a gentle embrace that felt fragile in a way it never had before.
She smelled like home—vanilla and cinnamon, the familiar scent of her signature candles mixed with something medicinal underneath. Her hands, when they gripped my arms, were ice-cold despite the warm evening.
"Let me look at you." She held me at arm's length, tears already streaming down her face. "You've grown so beautiful. And so thin! Have you been eating properly at school?"
The maternal concern in her voice made my eyes burn. "I'm fine, Caroline. Really. But you..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
She waved dismissively, but I caught the tremor in her hand. "Don't worry about me. I'm just so happy you came. Lucas said he'd ask, but I wasn't sure... after everything..." She trailed off, the unspoken words hanging between us.
After he destroyed our friendship. After he chose Samantha.
She pulled back slightly, her amber eyes searching past me toward the empty driveway. "Where's Lucas? Why didn't he drive you back?"
There was a sharp edge to her voice—disappointment mixed with reproach. I could already imagine the lecture Lucas would get later.
"He dropped me in town," I said quickly, the lie coming easily. "He had some things to handle at the hotel. He wanted me to wait, but..." I softened my voice, injecting warmth into it. "I wanted to see you sooner. It's not far—just a quick taxi ride."
The tension in Caroline's shoulders melted away, and her entire face transformed. "Oh, sweetheart." Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. "You were that eager to see us?"
I nodded, and it wasn't entirely a lie. I had wanted to see them—just not Lucas.
"That boy." Caroline shook her head, but she was smiling now. "Always making things complicated. But you're here now, that's what matters." She squeezed my hands, her cold fingers trembling slightly against mine. "Come inside, come inside. You must be exhausted from the trip."
Richard appeared in the doorway, his reading glasses perched on his nose, and the sight of him made my chest ache even more. He'd aged significantly—his temples now completely gray, new lines etched deep around his eyes and mouth. When he saw me, he hastily pulled off his glasses and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes.
"Richard?" I pulled away from Caroline, concerned.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Just... seeing you here..." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat roughly. "You're a sight for sore eyes."
I crossed to him and wrapped my arms around his solid frame. He hugged me back fiercely, and I felt his chest hitch with suppressed emotion.
"The roast is probably burning," he muttered, pulling back and swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Caroline had me cooking since noon."
"Because I knew you'd come hungry," Caroline said, linking her arm through mine and guiding me inside. "And we have all your favorites."
The living room was exactly as I remembered—warm hardwood floors, family photos on the mantel, the comfortable leather furniture arranged around a stone fireplace. But there were changes too. Medical equipment discreetly placed in corners. Pill bottles on the side table. A wheelchair folded against the wall.
I pretended not to notice.
The dining room table was set with obvious care—the good china, cloth napkins, fresh flowers as a centerpiece. And there, right in the middle, was a strawberry cake from Maple Delights, my favorite bakery in Mapleton. The sight of it made my throat tight.
"You didn't have to go to so much trouble," I said softly.
"Trouble?" Caroline squeezed my arm. "Having you here is a gift, not trouble. Come, sit in your usual spot."
My feet carried me automatically to the chair on the right side of the table, second from the head. My spot. The place I'd occupied at countless family dinners growing up, the chair Lucas and I used to fight over until Richard declared it "Ellie's chair" when I was ten.
I noticed immediately that there was no silverware at my place setting—only stainless steel and wooden utensils. Caroline had remembered. She always did.
"Where's—" I started to ask, but the front door opened, cutting off my question.
Lucas entered, his expression guarded. Our eyes met across the room, and something flickered in his—guilt, maybe, or regret. But then his gaze dropped to where I sat in my old chair, and his jaw tightened.
"Lucas!" Caroline's entire face transformed, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "You're here! Sit down, sit down. Richard, bring out the food."
The meal that followed was surreal in its normalcy. Richard had outdone himself—honey-glazed chicken wings (his version of Caroline's old recipe), Caesar salad, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, corn chowder. Everything I'd loved as a kid.
Caroline served me personally, piling food onto my plate with maternal enthusiasm. "Eat, eat. You're too thin. Are those girls in your dorm feeding you properly?"
Despite everything, I smiled. "They try. But nobody cooks like you two."
"That's what I like to hear." Richard's eyes crinkled with pleasure as he watched me take a bite of the chicken. "Still remember the recipe?"
"How could I forget? You made me help every time." The taste brought back a flood of memories—Sunday dinners, birthday celebrations, the casual intimacy of a family that had once felt like mine.
Lucas sat across from me, pushing food around his plate. He'd barely touched anything, and I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes kept flickering to his mother's trembling hands.
Caroline noticed my gaze and quickly tucked her hands in her lap. But not before I saw the violent tremor that ran through them.
Without thinking, I reached across the table and gently took her hand. Her fingers were ice-cold, the tremors pronounced against my palm. I held on anyway, my thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand—the same gesture she'd used to comfort me countless times when I was younger.
"It's okay," I murmured softly. "Just breathe."