Love, After Dark

Chapter 11

For a long moment after the engine shut off, none of us moved. The house stood before us, tall and elegant, bathed in late-afternoon light that seemed to cling to every window and stone detail. All the homes on the street were beautiful, grand even, but this one felt different. Larger. More intentional. Like it had been chosen. Or like it had chosen us.

Sia was the first to open her door. She stepped out slowly, craning her neck as she took it all in. I followed, my sneakers crunching softly against the immaculate driveway. “This… can’t be right,” I said quietly. Mom didn’t answer right away. She stood beside the car, arms folded loosely, eyes scanning the façade with careful disbelief. Tall columns framed the entrance, and the windows reflected the sky in soft blue and gold. Everything about it looked expensive in a way I didn’t have words for. “Maybe we’re at the wrong address,” Sia offered. Mom exhaled. “The GPS says this is it.”

The front doors were massive, with dark wood and intricate metal detailing. When Mom pushed them open, they swung inward effortlessly, revealing a foyer so large it made me stop short. The ceiling soared above us, high and airy, crowned by a chandelier that sparkled faintly as the doors closed behind us. A grand double stairwell curved upward on either side, the banisters polished to a soft gleam, meeting at a landing that overlooked the space below. “Whoa,” Sia breathed. Our voices echoed. Boxes were stacked neatly along the walls, labeled in bold marker: KITCHEN, LIVING ROOM, DINING, SIRI, SIA. Seeing our names written there made the place feel real- claimed.

We wandered forward slowly, passing into the living room. It stretched wide and open, tall windows flooding the space with light. A stone fireplace anchored one wall, modern yet warm, and the floors beneath our feet gleamed like they’d never known dust. “This room is bigger than our entire old house,” Sia said. Mom laughed softly, shaking her head. “That’s not funny.” The dining room was just as impressive- long, open, and elegant, with space for a table big enough to host holidays we’d never had. We passed a half bath tucked neatly into the hallway, then another farther down, each one more polished than the last.

And then we reached the kitchen. I stopped dead. It was enormous. The island alone looked like it could seat ten people comfortably, smooth marble gleaming beneath recessed lighting. Stainless steel appliances lined the walls with double ovens, a massive refrigerator, and a stovetop that looked more professional than residential. Cabinets stretched high, sleek and flawless, and every surface looked untouched, waiting. “This is… a dream kitchen,” I whispered. Sia ran her hand lightly along the counter. “I don’t even know what half of this stuff does.” Mom stood quietly, eyes darting from feature to feature. “This is the kind of kitchen you see in magazines,” she said, almost to herself.

A glass door off the kitchen led outside. We stepped onto a beautiful patio, warm stone beneath our feet. A large pool shimmered nearby, sunlight dancing across the water. Beside it sat a jacuzzi, steam curling lazily upward. A seating area with a wide umbrella looked perfect for afternoons we’d never imagined having, and beyond that, an outdoor kitchen gleamed—high-end grill, sleek countertops, appliances that matched the ones inside.

“Okay,” Sia said, grinning. “I officially live here now.” Behind the pool stood a pool house, smaller but no less perfect. Inside, it was fully furnished- a cozy living area, a dining space, a small but elegant kitchen, and a full bathroom. “This is nicer than most apartments,” I said. We were buzzing now, excitement crackling between us. Even Sia and I weren’t bickering. Just laughing, pointing, imagining. For once, everything else felt paused.

Mom watched us from the patio doors, her expression caught somewhere between wonder and worry. Her eyes lingered on the house, the yard, the details that screamed cost. I could see the math running behind her gaze. “I can’t even imagine,” she murmured, mostly to herself, “what your bedrooms must be like.” Sia’s eyes lit up instantly. She looked at me, mischief sparking. “Last one to the rooms is a rotten egg!” We didn’t wait for Mom’s response. We bolted through the doors and up the grand staircase, laughter echoing through the house as the future waited at the top.