Chapter 24—The Morning Everything Changed

Noah's POV

I woke up before my alarm.

Actually, I woke up before the sun.

For a second, I lay there staring at my ceiling, not totally sure why my chest felt tight or why my stomach felt like it was doing flips.

Then I remembered her last message.

"Text me when they leave."

That was it. Just six words.

Six words that kept me awake half the night.

I got up and splashed cold water on my face, but it didn't help. I could still feel the weight of what today meant, and if I was honest, it scared me in a way nothing else ever had.

I wasn't scared of her. I was scared because of how much I wanted to be near her. Because of how it felt last night when she said:

"I can't stop thinking about you either."

I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, trying to steady my breathing.

Five days.

Five days alone in her house. Five days without Jacob, without her parents, without walls or interruptions or excuses.

I ran a hand through my hair.

"What are you getting yourself into?" I muttered.

There was no answer. There didn't need to be one.

My phone vibrated.

Ava: They just left.

My pulse jumped.

I stared at the message longer than I should have, like reading it twice might change something. It didn't. It just made everything feel more real.

Me: Are you okay?

Ava: Yeah. Are you still coming?

Still coming. As if there was a universe where I wouldn't.

Me: I'm on my way.

I didn't even bother grabbing breakfast. Didn't check my hair. Didn't think twice.

I threw on a hoodie, stepped outside, and shut the door behind me.

The morning air was cool, quieter than usual, almost like the world hadn't fully woken up yet. Maybe that helped because my heart was beating too fast as it was.

I crossed the lawn slower than I meant to. I wasn't stalling—at least not intentionally. I just needed a second to breathe.

Before I reached her porch, her door opened.

Ava stood there in a soft sweater and loose shorts, her hair lightly pulled back like she'd been too nervous to put it up properly. She looked... different somehow.

Not dramatic. Just real. Like she'd been up all night thinking the same things I had.

Her eyes softened when she saw me.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi," I echoed, because anything more would've come out wrong.

She stepped aside, letting me in, and the moment the door clicked shut behind me, something in the world shifted. The house felt too quiet. Too warm. Too intimate.

I looked at her carefully. "How are you feeling?"

She hesitated. "Nervous."

I nodded once. "Me too."

"Really?" she asked, like she couldn't quite believe that.

I gave a half-smile. "Yeah. I'm not as calm as I look."

She smiled back—small, but real—and that alone made my chest loosen a little.

We walked to the living room, but neither of us sat at first. There was too much space between us. Too much not being said.

She finally sank onto the couch and tugged one leg under herself. I sat beside her, leaving a few inches between us.

But she closed the space herself.

Her knee brushed mine. Her shoulder lightly leaned into me. And just like that, my whole body went warm.

"This is..." she whispered, searching for the right word. "Different."

"Yeah," I said softly. "It is."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, fingers twisting nervously, and I gently reached over, stopping them with my own.

She froze for a second—but didn't pull away.

"Ava," I said quietly, "we don't have to rush anything today. Or ever."

"I know," she whispered. "I just... wanted you here."

And that?

That broke me a little.

I shifted closer—not much, but enough for me to feel it. "I'm here."

She took a slow breath, then leaned her head against my shoulder.

My chest tightened at the simple, careful weight of her.

We stayed like that for a long moment, listening to the clock, the quiet house our uneven breathing.

Then she said, barely above a whisper:

"Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it bad that I didn't want to wait anymore?"

I swallowed. Hard.

"No," I murmured. "It's not bad."

She looked up at me through her lashes.

"What is it then?"

I met her eyes—gentle, honest, scared.

"It's real," I said. "That's what makes it a little terrifying."

She smiled softly. "For me too."

And without thinking, without planning, without trying to be careful--

I lifted her hand and pressed my lips to the back of it.

She inhaled sharply.

Something in the air shifted again, warm and electric and impossible to ignore.

But I held her hand gently, lowering it back onto her lap.

"We'll go slow," I whispered. "Whatever happens next... you get to lead it."

Her expression softened in a way that made something deep inside me settle.

For the first time, the fear faded. And what replaced it was something better. Something certain.

Today was the start of something we couldn't undo.

And I didn't want to.