By the time we arrived, the sun was already sinking into the horizon.
The air felt lighter, unfamiliar yet inviting. The rush outside the airport was calm rather than chaotic — quieter than the restlessness it's known for.
My eyes wandered as we waited for the car. Noah was busy talking to my parents, completely absorbed, while I stood a little apart, taking everything in.
"You're already loving it here?" Noah nudged my shoulder, a teasing warmth in his voice.
I let out a slow breath, my lips curving into an effortless smile. "It's been a while."
I turned toward him, and he smiled back — softer this time.
"I know… us… you, me, and our family." He paused, as if the thought itself deserved a moment. "It's been a while since we came somewhere together without it being about business."
He tilted his head slightly, pretending to think. "Last I remember… it was my twelfth birthday."
"Ten years…" I said, a flicker of excitement rising in my chest, yet a faint shudder ran through me, as if my intuition had sensed something unspoken.
Noah leaned slightly closer and began softly, "Elina, there's something I…"
"Get in."
Adam's rough voice cut through the moment.
Our gazes shifted toward the car. Adam was in the driver's seat, while another man, probably the one sent to pick us up, sat beside him.
My parents, along with Uncle Valor, got into another car while Noah and I walked toward ours.
Noah opened the door for me, and I slipped inside. He closed it gently before walking around to his side and getting in.
Adam's fingers tapped impatiently against the steering wheel as he waited for us to settle in.
He started the engine, and his gaze lifted to the rearview mirror, catching my reflection.
When our eyes locked, he asked, "Shall we leave?"
I nodded, and Noah answered on my behalf. "Let's go."
The drive was comfortably calm.
Noah spoke now and then, filling the silence with light conversation, but I barely followed. I found Adam's eyes catching mine in the mirror more than once throughout the drive.
And then we arrived.
The moment I stepped out of the car, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander, tracing the sharp designs and graceful symmetry of the house.
The structure felt intentional. Balanced. Crafted with patience.
It carried the kind of thoughtfulness only an architect could leave behind.
Even after Uncle's passing, it was clear that Aunt Jenna had preserved every inch of it the way he must have once loved.
We were greeted warmly the moment we stepped inside.
Aunt Jenna walked toward us before anyone else could speak. Her eyes searched past everyone, settling on Adam. For a brief second, something in her expression softened completely.
"Look at you," she said as she stepped toward him first.
"You've lost weight," she added gently, brushing invisible dust from his shoulder before adjusting his collar herself.
Adam didn't protest. He didn't step back either.
He just stood there with a faint smile, letting her fuss over him in a way he never allowed anyone else to.
"I'm fine, Aunt," he muttered, but his voice had lost its usual sharp edge.
She rested her hand briefly against his cheek, and he leaned into it — slightly, but enough.
Then her gaze shifted to me, and her face brightened. She stepped closer and pulled me into a hug.
"You've grown up so much."
Her embrace wasn't tight or overwhelming. It was steady. Protective.
I hadn't even realised how much I needed that.
"I'm glad you're here," she said softly.
Noah's voice slipped into the moment. "How have you been? It's been so long."
His tone was gentle, and so were his eyes.
Aunt Jenna moved toward him, smoothing a hand over his hair fondly before stepping back. A quiet warmth settled around us.
It was comforting… but I sensed something else beneath it.
Her eyes flickered toward Adam, then back to Noah.
Noah looked away, and for a brief second, I caught an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
He grinned, forcing a touch of humour back into the moment.
"Are we going to keep standing here?" he said lightly. "Where's the bride?"
Hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs as Nora came rushing down, her excitement louder than her voice.
"Look who's finally here!" she called out dramatically.
Noah didn't wait. He moved straight toward her.
The moment they met, she threw her arms around him, almost knocking him back a step.
"Missed me?" she grinned.
"Obviously," he shot back, hugging her tighter before she deliberately messed up his hair.
"Hey!" he protested, trying to fix it while she laughed.
"How dare you guys be so late to my wedding?" she added, though her voice carried no real anger.
Aunt Jenna rolled her eyes. "Nora, they just landed. Go easy on them."
"At least someone isn't crying anymore," Adam shot back casually.
The laughter came easier now as Nora gasped dramatically. "You—!"
I chuckled along, but it had been so long that I no longer felt entirely familiar with this kind of warmth.
Still, the energy in the house was bright and comforting — almost as if this wedding could heal something I had been trying to mend for days… or at least distract me from it.
I decided to stay calm and simply go with the flow.
Our parents had already settled in. Old memories and familiar stories flowed easily as they chatted, relaxed and unhurried.
Nora noticed the fatigue on my face and immediately took my hand. "Come on, I'll show you your room."
"You were always adorable," she continued as we walked down the hallway, "but now that you're all grown up…"
She turned toward me dramatically, her eyes widening.
"…when did you get this pretty?"
I laughed softly. She was only three years older than me, yet she carried herself with a radiant confidence that made everyone feel at ease.
"As if you didn't glow up into someone I admire the most," I shot back.
Nora laughed and nudged my shoulder before pushing open the door to my room.
A warm, concealed glow lit the space, light spilling softly from the recessed panels along the ceiling and walls.
My luggage had already been placed neatly beside the bed.
"Freshen up. Dinner's in an hour," she said with a wink before leaving.
The door clicked shut.
I walked slowly across the room, taking in the precision of the design.
The journey had drained more from me than I had realised.
I slipped off my heels and sat at the edge of the bed, letting out a slow breath.
I lay down, closing my eyes, letting the noise in my head blur into a distant hum, and somewhere between exhaustion and silence, sleep slowly took over.