All Chapters of A Yearning Beyond Years: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Stacey’s POV:The house was quiet that evening, the kind of stillness that settles when sadness lingers long enough to become part of the air. I was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board the only sound keeping me grounded. Tessa’s giggle floated in from the living room, followed by Noah’s laughter.He had come by again, like he always did lately. A warm presence in the storm that had become my life. While everything else had shattered—my career, my reputation, my dreams—Noah kept showing up, like a heartbeat I could still count on.I peeked into the living room. Tessa was sitting on Noah’s lap, holding up her stuffed lion and making roaring noises. Noah played along with exaggerated fear, falling back on the couch and clutching his chest like he’d been attacked. She squealed with delight.Something about the way he looked at her—gentle, attentive, patient—made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t explain. He wasn’t just some college

Chloe’s POV:The past few days had been... off. Cece wasn’t talking much.For days now, she’d been quieter than usual, moving like a ghost in our shared apartment. Her footsteps were lighter, her eyes distant, and even her morning coffee, her one sacred ritual, remained half-sipped and forgotten on the kitchen counter. She was withdrawn, her eyes hollowed by something she wasn’t saying.I knew something was eating her alive.I noticed it again when I walked past the living room one evening. She was sitting on the couch, unmoving, as if the weight of her thoughts had frozen her in place. The TV was on but her eyes weren’t watching. Tessa was asleep in my room, Cece had insisted she stay there lately, and there was nothing but silence between us.I've waited, biting my tongue and giving her space, but eventually, it got too much. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her unravel like this. I dropped onto the other couch and waited. She didn’t flinch.“Alright,” I finally said. “Spill it. I

Stacey’s POV:The wooden slats of the front porch creaked under our weight, but neither of us paid them any mind. A late afternoon hush had settled around the cabin, the kind of silence that hung heavy and expectant, like the air before a storm. The forest was calm. A soft breeze rustled through the pine trees and carried the scent of earth, pine needles, and faint smoke from the morning's fire. I held a mug of chamomile tea in my hands, not for the taste, but for the warmth, it gave me something to hold onto, something to keep my hands from trembling.Noah’s mom sat beside me, her posture regal even in rest. She had that poised calmness some mothers possessed, especially the ones who’d been through life’s hard lessons and come out the other side with a spine made of steel and a heart stitched up but still beating. Her eyes scanned the horizon as if trying to catch sight of something just out of reach.I didn’t know how we got here. One moment we were sipping in silence, and the next…

Stacey’s POV:The silence after the bomb I dropped on him was the loudest thing in the café.Noah was still sitting there, his hands clenched tightly on either side of the table, like he was anchoring himself in place. His eyes bore into mine, confused, hurt, desperate. Waiting for a punchline. Waiting for me to say I was kidding. That this was all some cruel joke.But I didn’t smile. I didn’t blink. I didn’t move.Because I couldn’t.“I don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re breaking up with me… why?”I looked down at the table, tracing the rim of my tea cup, feeling my throat close up.“You deserve the truth,” I said, my voice calm. Too calm. It scared even me. “I never loved you.”It took a moment for my words to sink in.Noah flinched like I’d slapped him. He leaned back slowly, blinking like he was trying to process the sentence. His jaw clenched, and for a second, he laughed. A dry, disbelieving kind of laugh.“What are you talking about?” he sai

Stacey’s POV:I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror for what felt like too long. My lip gloss was still intact. My earrings matched. No mascara smudges. From the outside, I looked... composed.Inside? I felt like a house of cards standing in a wind tunnel.The parking lot was mostly empty, except for a few scattered cars and a man in a hoodie pacing while talking on the phone. The air carried the promise of rain, thick and weighty, like it too was holding something back. I took a breath and stepped out of the car, heels crunching softly against the gravel.Liam’s apartment complex hadn’t changed, same chipped staircase railing, same ivy climbing the corners like time was trying to reclaim it. I knew the route by muscle memory, even though it had been months. Two lefts, up the stairs, third door on the right.I knocked before I could talk myself out of it.The door opened sooner than I expected. Liam stood there in sweatpants and a faded T-shirt, holding a towel like he’d ju