Page 13 of Falling Back to You

Three years later when I thought about coming home.

Five years after that when I found out he was getting married.

But life wasn’t a fairy tale. Wendy Darling grew up. You did, too.

Then why did my soul ache for a bit of second-star-to-the-right magic? For a second chance?

The small cottage from Ruby’s photos was nestled away from the main house, and secluded enough to be private. I breathed a sigh of relief. It gave me the idea of independence while knowing help was within reach. The problem was the owner of that house. It had to be Cal, which made us neighbours and him my landlord.

Did Ruby tell him I was coming? Doubtful. He’d probably have thrown me out on my ear, and I couldn’t blame him.

Maybe if I kept vampire hours, I could avoid him and he’d never know I was there. Broken sink? I could be a plumber. Mice infestation? I knew how to buy mousetraps and rat poison. Just call me MacGyver.

What I didn’t know, Google did.

There was that unfortunate matter that my name would show up on the bill payments when I transferred the rent money. Unless Ruby would be willing to let me pay her so she could pay him?

Real mature, Noelle.

Renting a house from the ex-fiancé you ran away from was no big deal . . . right? Sounded like the start of a horror movie. Not that I’d know since I was a chicken about scary things—give me ’90s rom-coms and happily ever afters.

The cottage interior was clean and cozy with an open-concept living room and kitchen. Simple with polished hardwood floors, warm cream walls, and exposed timber beams overhead. My boxes and a handful of furniture would clutter it up when the movers arrived tomorrow, but for now, it was homey.

“I’ll come back tonight after dropping her off to help you unpack,” Ruby offered, trailing me as I wandered around the house, taking everything in.

I shook my head. “I’m kinda tired. There’s nothing really to do, not till the movers come tomorrow. I think I’ll save it for then. There’s a bed here already, so nothing else is pressing.” I was more grateful than ever that the cottage came mostly furnished.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed, and she propped a hand on her hip. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister? The Noelle I know wouldn’t go to bed without folding a basket of laundry, let alone leaving a whole house a mess.”

Tension froze my smile. Sure, I was Type A and thrived on order, but I came from a family where if I didn’t do it, no one else did. “That Noelle isn’t around anymore, Rubes,” I whispered. My mind wanted to attack the mess, but my body, aching with exhaustion, demanded a night of rest and binging The Dick Van Dyke Show.

Ruby shuffled her feet, lowering her gaze. “Right. I guess it’s been a while.”

Guilt flooded my veins. I’d hurt her feelings. I touched her shoulder and smiled more naturally. “We’ve both changed. That’s normal.”

Ruby bit her lip. “I wanted things to be perfect for you.”

So you don’t leave me again.

She didn’t say the words, but I heard them all the same.

“I don’t need perfect, Rubes.” I shifted my weight off my bad leg. “And you have my promise, I’m not leaving again without a goodbye.”

I’d learned my lesson.

“Miss Noelle!” Khia hollered from the kitchen where Mrs. Pickles was draped over her shoulders. “Are you coming for dinner?”

Ruby perked up. “Why didn’t I think of that? You totally should! Mama D would love to see you, and then we’re heading to the game and—!”

“Not tonight,” I blurted, my breathing shallow. Facing the Satterfields, facing Cal . . . That needed to happen on my own terms. I was too emotionally fragile to handle that tonight. In fact, I was minutes away from a breakdown, and I’d rather not have an audience for that.

When Ruby wilted, I hastily added, “It’s been a really long day, and I need sleep.”

Khia sighed dramatically, then hugged my waist. “Can I come back soon?”

“If it’s okay with your parents.”

“But—” Khia started.