Chapter 193 - 0193: Good To Be Back

Chapter 193: Chapter 0193: Good To Be Back

Elena’s Point Of View

The morning sun spilled through the windows, golden and warm, painting the apartment in hues of amber and rose. I stretched, my body aching from the emotional storm of the night before, but my heart felt lighter than it had in years.

The couch cushions were still rumpled from where Heather and Dave had slept... Heather curled up on one end, Dave sprawled out on the other like a starfish, hogging the blankets. I smiled at the memory of their snores... Heather’s soft and rhythmic, Dave’s loud enough to wake the dead.

I tiptoed to the kitchen, the hardwood floor cool beneath my bare feet. The coffee maker gurgled to life, the scent of fresh brew filling the air, mixing with the faint traces of last night’s laughter and tears. I leaned against the counter, watching the steam rise from my mug, my mind drifting to the way Heather had held my hand like a lifeline, the way Dave had promised to remove a ball from Graham if he ever saw him again.

A snort escaped me.

Only my siblings could turn my breakdown into a comedy show.

I smiled slightly as I walked upstairs to my room, drinking my coffee along. When I got to my room, I emptied my suitcases and arranged my things in the closet. I breathed heavily as I turned back to the living downstairs.

As soon as I got downstairs, the smell of bacon hit me first.

I turned to see Dave standing at the stove, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, flipping pancakes like he was a Michelin-star chef instead of a college student who once set fire to a microwave.

Heather stumbled into the kitchen behind me, her curls wild, her eyes still half-lidded. "Ugh, why are you so loud?" she groaned.

"Because someone’s grumpy in the morning," Dave teased, flipping another pancake with a dramatic flick of his wrist.

"And someone’s annoying all the time," Heather shot back, but there was no heat in it. "Oh my God, what is that smell?" She gagged dramatically, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Breakfast," Dave said proudly, flipping another pancake. This one was somehow worse than the first.

"That’s not breakfast," I said, pointing at the charred disaster. "That’s a fire hazard."

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, grinning as he slid a plate of pancakes onto the counter. "Breakfast is served."

"That’s arson," Heather corrected, grabbing the pan from him and shoving it into the sink. "Elena, do we have any cereal?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I pulled out the box of cereal from the cabinet. "Only because I knew this would happen."

Dave pouted, crossing his arms. "I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent cook."

"You’re an excellent liar," Heather shot back, pouring cereal into three bowls. "Seriously, Dave, you almost burned my eyebrows off."

"Hey! My culinary art is misunderstood!"

"Your culinary art is a hazard to public safety," Heather muttered, handing me a bowl. "Anyway, El, did you actually get any sleep last night? Or did you just lie upstairs thinking about... everything?"

"A little of both," I admitted, taking a seat at the counter. "My mind was racing. But it was better than the last few weeks."

Dave leaned against the counter next to me, his playful expression softening into something cautious. "And... what about Jaxx?"

My hand froze over my cereal bowl. "What about him?"

"Don’t ’what about him’ me, El," Heather chimed in, leaning over her bowl with her eyes narrowed. "He’s the guy who made high school a nightmare for you. He was an arrogant, mean jerk back then. Why on earth were you at his place last night? When you told us he brought you there, my jaw nearly hit the floor."

"Heather," I said softly, looking between the two of them. "I was a mess. He just... helped. That was it."

"Jaxx doesn’t just ’offer’ people things without an angle, El," Dave said, his jaw tightening slightly. "I remember the way he treated you back then. The sharp comments, the attitude. He was an asshole to you in school, and I don’t trust him now just because he owns a flashy apartment and handed you a cup of tea."

"He was different last night," I argued gently, though I didn’t entirely understand it myself. "He wasn’t mean. He didn’t push me to explain anything."

"Still," Heather warned, poking her spoon toward me. "Keep your guard up around him. He might act like he’s doing you a favor, but guys like Jaxx always have a motive. We don’t need another arrogant man messing with your head right after Graham."

"I know," I said, letting out a quiet breath. "Trust me, I’m not looking for anything. I just needed a roof over my head for a few hours."

"Good," Dave said firmly, snapping back to his usual grin. "Now, sit down before you burn the place down."

He flopped into a chair, his pout deepening. "Fine. But I’m choosing the music."

Heather groaned as he pulled out his phone, blasting some obnoxiously loud pop song through the speakers. "Dave, no..."

"Too late!" He grinned, turning up the volume.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him. This was what I’d missed. The chaos. The noise. The way they turned even the simplest morning into something alive.

Breakfast was a mix of laughter, teasing, and Dave trying, and failing to steal pancakes that we had salvaged off my plate. But as the clock ticked closer to eight, the mood shifted.

Heather sighed, pushing her bowl away. "We should get going. Classes start in an hour."

Dave groaned, rubbing his face. "Ugh, do we have to?"

"Yes," Heather and I said in unison.

He pouted but didn’t argue.

"Go get ready," I said, shooing them toward the bathrooms. "Heather, you can use mine. Dave, the guest bathroom is down the hall."

Heather smirked. "Thanks, El."

Dave muttered something about "bad timing to be a boy" but trudged off toward the guest bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Heather sauntered downstairs, her hair damp, her dress familiar. Very familiar. I blinked. "Heather. Are you wearing my dress?"

She whistled innocently, avoiding my gaze. "What? This old thing?"

"That’s my favorite dress!"

"And now it’s mine," she said, grinning as she twirled. "Thanks, sis!"

I glared at her, but there was no real heat in it. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you love me," she sang, grabbing her bag.

Dave appeared a moment later, still in his clothes from yesterday, his hair damp, his expression grumpy. "Bad time to be a boy," he muttered, glaring at Heather. "I’ll have to go back to my place and change before classes."

Heather stuck her tongue out at him. "Should’ve thought of that before you burned breakfast."

"I didn’t burn it!"

"You did," I said, laughing.

Dave groaned, rubbing his face. "I hate you both."

"No, you don’t," Heather said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Unfortunately," he muttered, but he was smiling.

"Seriously though, El," Dave added, turning back to me at the door, his face growing serious. "If Graham tries to call you, or if Jaxx shows up at your door acting weird, you call us immediately. Understand? You don’t deal with arrogant men on your own anymore."

"I won’t," I promised, reaching out to pat his arm. "I can handle myself, but I promise I’ll call."

"You better," Heather said, pulling me into a hug, her arms tight around me. "Of course we will come back soon. You’re not getting rid of us that easily."

Dave wrapped his arms around both of us, squeezing until I wheezed. "We’ll be back before you know it. And next time, we’re bringing pizza."

I laughed, blinking back tears. "Deal."

They left with a final wave, their laughter echoing down the hallway. The apartment felt quieter without them, but not empty.

Not anymore.

The moment the door clicked shut behind Heather and Dave, the apartment seemed to exhale with me. The morning light spilled through the windows, golden and warm, casting long shadows across the floor. I pressed my palm against the wood, feeling the faint vibration of their laughter still lingering in the air. For the first time in what felt like forever, the silence wasn’t suffocating. It was mine. A quiet space to breathe, to think, to act.

My phone felt heavy in my hand as I pulled it from my pocket, the screen reflecting the sunlight as I unlocked it. Graham’s name stared back at me from my contacts list, a ghost from a life I was finally ready to leave behind. My thumb hovered over his name, my pulse quickening, my breath hitching just slightly.

The memories flashed through my mind... his smile, his voice, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world. But then, like a film reel snapping, the images shifted: the coldness in his eyes when he lied, the cruelty in his voice when he blamed me, the way he’d stood there, unapologetic, while my world crumbled around me.

No more.

I tapped his contact, my finger trembling just enough to betray the storm inside me. The block button glowed under my touch, a small, digital act of defiance. I pressed it.

A weight lifted.

But it wasn’t enough.

I opened my social media apps one by one, my movements deliberate, my resolve unshakable. Facebook. Instagram. Twitter. LinkedIn. Every platform, every connection, every possible way he could slip back into my life. My finger hesitated for only a second before I hit block on each one, my heart pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of liberation. With every tap, every confirmation, I could feel the chains loosening, the invisible ties that had bound me to him for so long finally snapping.

Gone.

I exhaled, long and slow, as if I’d been holding my breath for years. The air filled my lungs, sweet and light, and for the first time in so long, I felt something unfurl inside me, something bright and fierce and free.

The water was scalding, the heat seeping into my muscles, washing away the tension, the doubt, the lingering touch of his hands on my skin. I tilted my head back, letting the spray pound against my shoulders, my hair, my face, as if it could scrub away every trace of him. The steam filled the bathroom, swirling around me like a cocoon, and I closed my eyes, letting the tears mix with the water. Not tears of sadness, but of release. Of finally letting go.

I lathered my hair, the scent of vanilla and jasmine filling the air, replacing the ghost of his cologne that had clung to me for too long. I scrubbed my skin until it was pink and raw, until I could no longer smell him, no longer feel him. When I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, my reflection in the mirror clearer than it had been in months. My eyes were brighter. My posture straighter. My soul lighter.

I dressed with care, each piece of clothing a deliberate choice. The black blazer, sharp and professional, a shield against the world. The crisp white blouse, pristine and untainted, a symbol of the fresh start I was claiming. The heels clicked against the tile floor as I walked, each step a declaration: I am back. I am strong. I am mine.

The city was waking up around me as I stepped out into the morning sun, the air crisp with the promise of a new day. My car waited in the parking lot, sleek and polished, a silent ally in this new Chapter. I slid into the driver’s seat, the leather warm beneath me, and rolled down the windows, letting the breeze rush in.

The scent of coffee from the café on the corner mixed with the faint tang of exhaust, the sounds of the city humming to life... horns honking, people laughing, the distant chatter of a newsstand vendor. It was alive.

I was alive.

I turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life, and pulled out onto the street. The drive to the office was smooth, the roads less crowded at this hour, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I turned up the radio, the music filling the car, my fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the beat. For the first time in so long, I wanted to be where I was going. I wanted to face the day.

When I pulled into the company parking lot, the security guard at the gate nodded at me, his smile warm and familiar. "Morning, Ms. Elena," he said, tipping his hat. "Good to see you back."

I returned his smile, genuine and unguarded. "Good to be back."