HANNAH
It had been a long time since I’d been back here. The smell of home hit me the second I stepped through the front door—a mixture of fresh laundry, cooking, and something more comforting that I couldn’t quite place. I took in a deep breath, letting the familiarity wash over me, but as I stood there in the entryway, everything felt... surreal.
Home. I had come home.
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but I wasn’t prepared for how badly I’d missed it.
My mom was the first one to spot me. She had been in the kitchen, probably preparing dinner, when I walked in. I heard the sound of her footsteps and before I knew it, she was standing in front of me, looking at me like she had just seen a ghost.
“Hannah…” Her voice was shaky, her eyes wide. She looked almost afraid, like she wasn’t sure if I’d disappear again.
I opened my arms without thinking, and she rushed to me, wrapping me in the tightest hug I had ever felt. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, the scent I had missed so much. I held her back, feeling the tears well up in my eyes even though I hadn’t cried in what felt like forever.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been worried... so worried about you.”
I could hear the unspoken words, the worry that had built up over the months, maybe even years, since I’d left for the city. My heart ached. My mom had always been there for me, but somehow, I had grown so distant. Too busy with my own life, my dreams, and all the noise that came with it.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry for being gone for so long.”
She pulled back, cupping my face with both hands, tears brimming in her eyes. “You don’t need to apologize, sweetie. I just wanted you to be happy... I just wanted you to know that we’re here. We’ve always been here.”
Her hands trembled on my cheeks, and for a moment, I felt like a little girl again. Her love wrapped around me like a blanket, and I could feel myself starting to break down. Everything I had bottled up—everything I had been trying to bury—was coming to the surface. I wasn’t strong enough to hold it all in anymore.
My dad appeared from the living room, his face lighting up when he saw me. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with that familiar half-smile of his. It was the kind of smile that made you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when you didn’t believe it.
“You’re home,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. There was a quiet strength in him, something steady, something that had always been a comfort to me.
I nodded, blinking back tears. “Yeah, I’m home.”
I felt a wave of emotion hit me, overwhelming and unrelenting. I didn’t know why I had stayed away for so long. I didn’t know why I had kept pushing away the people who loved me the most. I had tried to convince myself that my dreams, my success, were enough. But now, here, standing in front of my parents, I realized how much I had missed this—missed them.
“You look so different,” my mom said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “You’ve grown up so much. You’ve changed, Hannah, but... I can see it. You’re still my little girl.”
I smiled weakly, still unsure of how to feel about everything that had happened. My whole life had changed, and now, I felt like a stranger in my own skin.
“You’ve done so well for yourself,” my dad added, his tone full of pride. “You’re stronger than you think, kiddo.”
I looked at my parents, taking in the sight of them, so familiar and yet so distant at the same time. I had been away for too long, consumed by everything that had happened in the city, the pressure, the loneliness. I had thought I could handle it all on my own, but standing here now, with them, I realized how much I had missed. How much I had lost.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” I admitted quietly, my voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been running so fast, trying to chase everything... but now I’m just so tired.”
My mom’s arms tightened around me again. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to have all the answers. You just need to be here, with us. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”
Tears started to fall from my eyes, and this time, I didn’t try to hold them back. I let the emotions wash over me, let myself feel the pain, the confusion, the relief. It felt like a lifetime of weight was finally being lifted off my shoulders.
“I’ve been so lonely,” I whispered, barely able to breathe through the sobs. “I’ve had everything I thought I wanted, but I’ve been so... alone. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
My dad knelt in front of me, placing a hand on my knee. “You don’t have to do it all alone, Hannah. You’ve got us, always.”
The words were simple, but they hit me in a way that I didn’t expect. I had been so focused on achieving success, on proving something to myself and to everyone else, that I forgot the most important thing: I didn’t have to do it alone. I had family, I had love, and that was more than enough.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I said, finally looking at my dad, my mom, my real home. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you both.”
“We missed you too, sweetheart,” my mom said, her voice full of warmth. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just need to be here.”
I felt like I could breathe again. The pressure, the loneliness, the emptiness—it was all still there, but somehow, it didn’t feel as unbearable anymore. I had made it home. Not just to this house, but to a place where I was loved, where I was seen, where I didn’t have to be anyone other than myself.
For the first time in months, I felt like I could rest.
And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.
****
The smell of garlic and onions simmering on the stove filled the kitchen. It was home, something that felt warm and comforting. For the first time in a long while, I felt a little bit of peace. My ankle still ached, but it was manageable. My mom was out at the store, my dad was at work, and I was alone in the house. Just me and the quiet.
I stirred the sauce, the familiar rhythm of cooking a balm for my restless thoughts. It had been a while since I had this kind of tranquility—home, with my family, away from the chaos of the city and everything that had happened.
But then, I heard the door creak open. I froze. Someone was in the living room.
My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t move. It couldn’t be my mom—she was at the store. And it couldn’t be my dad, he had his keys. So who was it?
"Hello?" a deep baritone voice called out from the living room. It was unfamiliar, but in a way, it also felt… familiar. Something about it made my pulse race, and I couldn’t quite place why.
"Hello?" the voice repeated, this time more insistent. I felt my breath hitch, confusion and anxiety rising. Who the hell was that?
I turned slowly, my heart sinking as I saw a figure standing in the doorway.
Jeremy.
I hadn’t seen him in five years. Not since I left. Since everything fell apart between us. And here he was, standing in my kitchen like it was nothing.
But he was different now.
He wasn’t the same awkward, skinny guy I used to know. Now, Jeremy was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jawline. His hair was a little longer, messier in a way that somehow made him even more attractive. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes, seemed to hold something deeper now—something that both made my heart race and caused a pang in my chest.
He looked at me like he didn’t recognize me. His expression was blank, but there was a certain hardness to his gaze. He studied me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
It didn’t help that he was so damn handsome now. He looked like someone who had walked out of one of those pictures you see in magazines. The sharp cut of his jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the way he stood like he owned the room… It was unnerving.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and distant.
I stood frozen for a moment. Did he seriously not remember me? Did five years really change him so much that he couldn’t recognize the girl he used to spend all his time with?
I stared at him, feeling a strange mixture of frustration and… disappointment? I wasn’t sure. But instead of getting angry, I just shrugged and shook my head, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I’m Hannah,” I said, my voice calm, but laced with something I couldn’t explain. “My mom’s not home.”
Jeremy didn’t react right away. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to place me, but his face remained neutral. He still didn’t look like he recognized me. And that stung more than I cared to admit.
He cleared his throat and stepped further into the room. “Do you still live here?” he asked, his voice just a little too blunt.
Something in me snapped. My chest tightened, and my frustration boiled over.
“Yeah, I still live here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I injured myself. My ankle’s still healing.”
Jeremy glanced at me for a second, and there was this strange flicker in his eyes—something like sympathy, but then it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“You really came back,” he said, his tone sarcastic, almost mocking. His gaze raked over me in a way that made my skin prickle. His expression was guarded, almost… condescending.
That did it.
I didn’t even think about what I was saying before the words came out of my mouth. “I just got cheated on, Jeremy. Stop treating me like shit just for now.” My voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap back. But instead, there was just a brief, uncomfortable silence.
Jeremy stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his eyes never leaving me. I didn’t even try to read him anymore. I didn’t have the energy.
“You’re really good at pretending everything’s fine, huh?” he asked, his voice low, almost like he was probing for something.
I rolled my eyes, turning back to the stove. “It’s none of your business.”
Jeremy’s jaw tightened at my words. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath.
The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. There was so much unsaid between us, so much that had been left to rot over the years. Yet here we were, standing in this kitchen, as if nothing had changed, as if everything was still the same. But it wasn’t.
The silence stretched on before I finally spoke again, my tone quieter but no less biting. “Just sit down if you want. I’m cooking.”
For a moment, Jeremy didn’t move. He stood there, just looking at me. But then, with a sigh, he pulled out a chair from the table and sat down, though he didn’t look comfortable. He still watched me, like he was trying to figure out why I was so… cold.
I could feel his gaze on me, every movement I made under his scrutiny. And for some reason, it irritated me.
It wasn’t that I hated him. It wasn’t even that I was angry at him. It was just that I didn’t know how to feel.
I focused on the food, chopping vegetables with a little more force than necessary. The tension between us was thick enough to choke on, but it was the only thing that felt real at the moment.
****