Page 37 of After All This Time

My face doesn’t look like a zombie anymore. There’s color in my cheeks. The bags under my eyes seemed to have disappeared.

The irony is that I’m fucking exhausted. I guess hot shower water is a miracle worker.

Looking at my reflection, I see a young woman who’s going through a similar experience she went through when she was fourteen.

When you go through a traumatic experience like losing a parent, it changes you. It alters your brain chemistry in ways you could never imagine.

I genuinely believed I’d be miserable for the rest of my life. That I wouldn’t feel anything ever again.

I’m not the same fourteen-year-old girl anymore. Although it’s been several years since Dad’s passing, I still struggle with it.

The way I look at it is I’m here and I’m alive.

That’s what truly matters.

Shaking my head to enter back into reality, I gently remove the towel from my head, letting it fall on the floor next to me.

Twisting the doorknob, I see a ball of ginger fluff sitting on my bed. Archie has his long arms stretching straight out, blinking his eyes at me. He looks like he was asleep, so I try to be as quiet as I can so he can get back to being the cute and lazy boy that he is.

“Archie, why are you sitting on my clothes?” I ask, folding my arms and sticking my leg out.

He’s not looking at me. Instead, he rests his head on my underwear and bra.

I grunt in response.

Walking over to him, I pull my clothes out from under him. “Why do you do this?”

As I’m raising my arms to put my white tank top on, I slip it on as I hear a strange noise coming from the living room.

My heart starts pounding like a thousand drums being played all at once.

Who needs shorts anyway?

Slowly creeping out my door, I step out of my room and make my way down the hallway. Hearing footsteps going up the stairs, I sprint back into my room and grab the closest weapon I have at my disposal. A giant, black flashlight.

Taking it in my hands, I hold it like a baseball bat.

Oh my God, what if it’s an intruder? Or maybe even a kidnapper? I’m screwed either way.

I’m standing behind the door, lifting my flashlight because I’m ready to kill this son of a bitch. As I’m ready to wack this shadowy figure, I notice it’s no longer a shadow.

It’s a person.

Oh shit, it’s Noah.

He screams. I scream.

I lower the flashlight as my face heats up with anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

CHAPTER TEN

noah

I lean against the doorway of Dani’s childhood bedroom, her eyes glaring like they’re about to set me on fire.

The palm of her hand rests over her heart. “Knock on the front door next time, jackass. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Why would I have to knock?”

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