Aria's POV:
"Heading in?" Nathan asks.
"Sure."
When the door creaked open, the memories hit me harder than ever. From the kitchen to the living room, every inch of the wooden building.
My hand tangles with the blanket, and I close my eyes to settle the emotions.
"You hungry?" Nathan asks.
"A little."
While I settle on the couch, I watch Nathan make stew in the kitchen. I run my fingers across the desk, and not a speck of dusk in place.
"You said this was your grandpa's place," I said. "Is it okay for me to be here?"
He shrugs passively.
When everything is settled and done, Nathan places the meal on the table. I settle on one end of the table, and he sits beside me.
The quietness returns, accompanied by utensils clanking against the bowls.
There's a part of me that wishes Ace wo
