CHAPTER 1
1019 Words
“Why though?” Noah’s voice carried easily through the thin walls of the house, sharp and irritated in a way that made my stomach tighten.
My bedroom was only a few steps from the living room.
In this house, nobody really argued privately. Every sigh, every muttered curse, every slammed cabinet belonged to everyone.
It was a really small house.
“She’s broken, Noah. I want what’s best for her.” Sofia tried to sound calm when she said it, but I knew her too well. She always got quieter when she was angry. Softer.
Like if she lowered her voice enough, she could stop herself from saying something cruel.
Noah let out a dry hiss of frustration. “This isn’t fair to us. Or don’t you think so?”
The floorboards creaked beneath his footsteps. I pictured him pacing beside the old coffee table with his hands on his hips, jaw tight, acting like the victim the way he always did when things stopped revolving around him for more than five minutes.
A long sigh escaped Sofia. “Of course it isn’t fair,” she admitted. “Why do you think I asked you to come with us? But it’s your choice, though.”
Silence followed for a second. Then more pacing. Slower this time. “But I have my business here. My life.” His voice hardened. “I can’t leave all of it because of her.” A pause. “And mind you, she isn’t even your daughter.”
The words landed harder than they should have. I stared down at the loose thread on my blanket, winding it around my finger until it hurt. “I care about her.”
“More than me?” There it was.
Not concern. Not compromise. Competition. Sofia must have realized it too because when she spoke again, her voice lost its softness.
“Noah, then this won’t work out. You can leave if you aren’t coming with us.” The house went completely still after that. Even the old ceiling fan above me seemed to groan quieter, like it was waiting to see what would happen next.
I held my breath.
Finally— “Fine then.” Noah’s voice turned cold. Flat. “I guess this is goodbye.”
A second later, the front door slammed hard enough to shake one of the picture frames in the hallway.
Then came silence again. Not peaceful silence. Heavy silence. The kind that sits in the middle of a room and stares at everybody.
I heard Sofia moving around outside my room. A drawer opened. Closed. Footsteps approached carefully before her head peeked through my half-open door.
“Hey,” she said softly.
I quickly forced a smile onto my face. “Hey.”
She smiled back, though it looked tired around the edges, then walked inside and sat beside me on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The yellow lamp beside my bed cast warm light across her face, catching the faint smudge beneath her eyes where mascara had started to wear off.
She looked exhausted. “So,” she said eventually, nudging my shoulder gently with hers, “are you ready for tomorrow?”
I looked down at my hands. “You didn’t have to break up with your boyfriend because of me.”
The guilt had been sitting in my chest long before Noah even walked out the door. Hearing him say it out loud only made it worse.
Sofia rolled her eyes dramatically and flipped me off without hesitation. “Nonsense.” That earned a small laugh from me. She pointed at me accusingly. “I love you. So anyone who can’t do that too clearly doesn’t love me enough.”
She said it casually, almost jokingly, but I caught the c***k beneath it. The hurt she was trying not to touch yet.
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you,” I murmured against her shoulder. “You’re the best.”
She hugged me back immediately, tighter than usual. “I know,” she said into my hair, making me laugh again.
We stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other in the quiet little room while the ceiling fan spun lazily overhead and cars passed faintly outside.
Eventually, Sofia pulled away first and clapped her hands together. “Alright,” she announced.
“Enough crying and emotional trauma. We still have food to finish before we officially become homeless travelers.”
I snorted as she stood up dramatically and held a hand out toward me like some heroic knight. “Come, child.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“And yet you adore me.” I took her hand anyway. The kitchen smelled like garlic and tomatoes by the time dinner was ready.
Sofia had somehow managed to make pasta using the last random ingredients left in the house. Half a jar of sauce, two onions, a little dried seasoning, and whatever cheese we found buried in the fridge.
It still tasted incredible. It always amazed me how she could make struggle meals feel comforting.
We ate at the tiny dining table beside the window while an old sitcom played from the living room television.
Sofia occasionally mocked the characters dramatically between bites, and little by little, the heaviness from earlier loosened. Not completely. Just enough.
Later, we moved to the couch with our bowls balanced on our laps, watching our favorite show reruns even though we already knew every joke before it happened.
The house looked strange now that most of our things were packed away. The shelves were emptier. The walls looked bare. Even the echoes sounded different.
Tomorrow, we would leave this place behind completely.
A new city. A new apartment. A new life.
The thought sat uneasily in my chest, tangled somewhere between fear and excitement.
I wasn’t sure what waited for us there. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like something was actually beginning instead of ending.
- Writer
