my prized possession

CHAPTER 20

6 MONTHS LATER

I came back from the gym feeling refreshed. It had become part of my daily routine for the past six months—something I did for me, both physically and mentally. It grounded me, gave me structure, and reminded me how strong I could be when I showed up for myself.

I had also left the diner a few months ago. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but necessary. I now worked as a web developer for small, growing companies. The pay was much better, and more importantly, I loved the work. It gave me purpose, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

During those six months, I took a trip to visit the twins at their college. They were so happy to see me, and I was thrilled to see how well they were doing. Exploring different parts of Europe with them was a magical experience—full of laughter, discovery, and sibling bonding I didn’t know I missed so much.

Annabella and Jacob’s relationship had reached new heights. They were more in love than ever, and watching them together was like watching a fairytale in real time. I spent some time with them too, and I truly enjoyed the peace and joy that radiated from their little world.

Summer was a complete blast. My small circle—my little crew—and I went on a mini vacation to the Netherlands. It was divine. The country felt like a dream, with its calm canals, stunning architecture, and warmth that went beyond the weather. It was paradise, and I knew I’d be back again someday.

Now here I was, sitting in my room, deep into work. I was so focused I didn’t even hear my phone ring at first. When I finally glanced at the screen and saw the name, I smiled—Mrs. Cooker.

We had been talking for a while now. She told me she got my number from Jackson. At first, she called to apologize for his behavior, but I told her not to worry—I was fine now. Instead, I asked how she was holding up, especially after everything she had gone through.

To my surprise, she said she was doing very well. "Free," she said. I could hear it in her voice—the lightness. It made me happy. After hearing what she endured, it was clear Jackson’s father had been a storm in her life, and leaving him must have been like finally coming up for air. But he had left one scar behind—Jackson. That part was heartbreaking.

I answered her call, and she was as warm and excited as always. So was I. She invited me to London for the weekend—her family was hosting a barbecue party. I laughed, teasing her about calling me all the way across the ocean for grilled meat and conversation. But she insisted. “This is my first real gathering since the divorce,” she said. “And I want you here.”

I agreed. She quickly added that I shouldn’t worry about travel—she had it covered. I thanked her, touched by the gesture, and we hung up shortly after.

As I sat back down, my thoughts swirled. Being invited into Jackson’s childhood home… it was something I hadn’t seen coming. Would I see him again? What would that even feel like? I wasn’t sure. A part of me still ached at the thought of him, but the brighter part—the hopeful part—was looking forward to seeing Noah again.

I hadn’t called him yet. I guess I was scared—scared of how it would feel, scared of what it might mean. But also… maybe a little scared of how much I missed him.

Staying away from him made me realize something I wasn’t ready to admit before—I was developing feelings for Noah. Real feelings. And that terrified me.

It didn’t feel right, not after everything with Jackson. I kept telling myself it was wrong, complicated, and messy. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way. After all, he was the one who encouraged Jackson to pursue me in the first place. Maybe that was all he ever wanted—for us to be friends. And if that was true… I’d accept it. I would. But deep down, I wanted more. I wanted something real. Something I hadn’t felt with anyone else before.

Even with the distance, he never really left my thoughts. He lingered there quietly, like a song you can’t forget no matter how many times you try to silence it. But still, I couldn’t bring myself to call him. I was scared of what I might hear—or not hear. And now, fate was putting us in the same city again. In London. I would see him, whether I was ready or not.

The flight was surprisingly exciting. I felt light for the first time in a while. I was looking forward to seeing Mrs. Cooker again—her warmth had become a comfort. I had also spoken to Chris before I left. He was thrilled for me and promised he’d make sure to see me before I flew back.

When the plane landed, I walked out with a flutter in my chest. There, at the arrival gate, stood a man holding a sign with my name on it. I smiled—this must be the driver. I approached him with my bag, and he greeted me politely, taking my luggage from my hand.

As I settled into the backseat of the car, I stared out the window. The streets of London blurred past, but my thoughts were focused on one thing—him.

I was here now. And so was he.

Whatever was going to happen next, I knew it would change everything.

We arrived at an estate, and I had a feeling this was where they lived now. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the mansion in front of me—it was breathtaking. Huge, elegant, and impossibly beautiful. I was stunned, standing there at the base of the wide marble staircase as the driver came around to open the door.

I stepped out of the car slowly, still soaking it all in, when I saw her—Mrs. Cooker. No, Pamela. She looked radiant, even more graceful than I remembered. I walked up to her with a smile and embraced her tightly.

“Mrs. Cooker, you look beautiful,” I said sincerely.

She laughed, that familiar, warm laugh. “Please, call me Pamela,” she insisted.

I smiled, touched by her kindness, and followed her inside. The house was just as magnificent as the outside. Everything—from the grand chandelier to the marble floors and gold accents—screamed luxury, but it didn’t feel cold or distant. It felt lived-in. Welcoming.

Pamela called for the housekeeper and asked her to take me to my room. As I followed the woman upstairs, I couldn’t help but admire every hallway, every piece of art, every intricate detail of the interior. When we reached my room, my jaw nearly dropped. It was larger than my entire apartment back home.

After unpacking my things and settling in, I decided to rest for a while. The trip had been long, and my body needed a moment to breathe.

Later, feeling refreshed, I made my way downstairs to find Pamela. I entered the living room and immediately froze.

There he was—Noah.

He was talking to Pamela, but the moment his eyes landed on me, he stopped mid-sentence and smiled. That smile—that calm, effortless charm—hit me like a wave.

He walked toward me without hesitation, and when he reached me, he wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I didn’t resist. I didn’t want to. I sank into it, into him. It was warm. Safe. Peaceful.

I wanted to stay there forever.

Then—a throat cleared.

Startled, I turned to see Jackson standing a few feet away, arms crossed, a suspicious look on his face.

The peace shattered in an instant.