Page 142 of Serpentine

I bite my cheek, not wanting to spew any more truths or emotions, as my brain is still trying to decide what I honestly think of her return.

I shrug.

“You don’t have to like it, but you should respect it,” Walter says, sticking his fucking nose where it doesn’t belong again. The only reason he’s still breathing is because of the woman clinging to Miles’s side right now.

The careful look in Walter’s eyes tells me he knows it, too.

“You just need to shut the fuck up,” Aella says, dropping Miles’s hand and stepping toward her father’s desk.

“Excuse me, young lady?”

She scoffs, some of her newfound fire blazing up at his words. “Oh, shove it up your ass. Young lady.” She leans over his desk. “We know who you are, Dad. We know what you do. Who do you work with, or for, should I say? You need to sit there and be silent. This isn’t about you.”

The way Walter looks at her as if he doesn’t know her makes me so fucking proud. Because as much as this has been a journey about Miles and me finding our mother and gaining closure, it’s about Aella, too.

I’m sure she was supposed to be in our world.

She’s been on a journey of her own.

One that’s changed her very makeup.

“I think this meeting is over. For now,” Susan says, standing and rounding the desk. She grabs Walter’s hand as if they stand together in guilt.

My stomach churns the longer I look at them, so I turn and stalk out of the fucking building. I’m not stopping until I’m on my bike with the engine revved.

I don’t wait for Aella and Miles, even though I see them walking out as I kick off the ground and lift my feet to the bike pegs.

I need this.

As I drive away, the chapter slowly ends, like a fading sunset painting the sky with vibrant hues. This chapter, which has shaped my life and guided my actions for over ten years, now dissipates like a gentle breeze through an open window. The distant sound of tires on the road echoes in my ears, a constant reminder of the journey I am leaving behind. The familiar scent of gasoline fills the air, mingling with a tinge of nostalgia as I bid farewell to this significant part of my existence.

I discover that I have no desire to acquaint myself with her. The feeble justifications she offered cannot sway me, and they do not warrant any consideration. There is no obligation for me to mend ties with her. The same holds for both of us.

I can move on.

I need to move on.

A while later, I’m sitting on my bike, listening to the wind blow in Lover’s Bluff, when I hear the far-off sound of a motorcycle approaching.

I know it’s him, but I don’t turn as he pulls up behind my bike and shuts his off.

When I finally look toward Miles, I’m surprised I find no Aella with him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he stands between my splayed thighs. I drop the stick I’d been tearing to bits for the last hour on the ground beside us and lean back to look up at him.

“Where’s Aella?” I ask.

“Home.”

So, Stoic Miles drags me home. Got it.

He sighs, the lines etched into his face disintegrating some. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

I know this is Aella’s influence.

Based on its nearly complete glow above us, I see the moon above will be full tomorrow night.

She has rocked our fucking world more than she even knows. More than we could ever tell her.

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