Home Again A Novel Novels & Stories

It’s true that his family house is now his sister’s, so I don’t think he’d want to live with her and her family, no matter how much he loves them. I guess what I really want to know is why he returned. Why he left his life in LA to come back home after so long. But I don’t want to be that obvious, so it’s better to start with a stupid question. One I already know the answer to. “I’m used to living by myself. As much as I love Aubrie, Caitlin and Tom, I appreciate having my own space,” he explains, opening the driver’s door and climbing out of the car.

“Tess, you’re right. I never truly understood what you wanted. I’m sorry, and thank you.” He finally exited with dignity, and I, too, finally ended this endless tug-of-war, ready to restart my own life. A year later, I returned home. My first stop was to visit the orphanage and Ms. Grey. The orphanage was just as warm as I remembered. Laughter and playful shouts from the children echoed the yard. When she saw me, her smile was gentle and kind. “Tess, it’s good to have you back.” We sat on the wooden chairs in the courtyard and caught up.

Nevertheless, she ended up falling into a trap set up by the Gray family anyway. She got married to an abusive man and ended up getting addicted to drugs. Even though she got pregnant multiple times, she lost them all thanks to his abuse. In fact, she was eventually beaten to death. After telling me everything, Jeremy looked at me with an apologetic expression. I knew he felt remorseful for failing to save me in time and protect our baby. "It's all in the past now, Jeremy," I said. "From now on, our family will live happily ever after."

We had not just survived our story. *** The homecoming was not a fanfare, but a quiet, profound reintegration. Arthur moved back into the house, and the silence that had been so oppressive was now filled with the comfortable, familiar sounds of our life together—the rustle of his newspaper, the clink of his coffee cup, the soft hum of his presence in the next room. The peace felt deeper now, hard-won and infinitely more precious.

Only mine was missing. In my past life, I'd signed right here, moved to tears by his so-called sacrifice. Then he'd kicked me straight into prison. I raised my head and looked at Gabriel's face, so full of manufactured concern. "Let's talk about this at home. I'm dizzy." Wild joy flashed in Gabriel's eyes before he masked it. "Of course, of course. Let's go home. I'll make you some tea." We returned to our temporary apartment. Gabriel bustled around, fetching my slippers and draping a blanket over my shoulders.

Now, all at once, it hit me that everything I had given over the years had been nothing more than a one-sided effort. I was just about to book a flight when I realized I had forgotten my ID and passport, so I had no choice but to return home. The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by a mess all over the floor. Leftover snacks were scattered everywhere, along with half-finished dishes left behind. Right by the bedroom door lay something impossible to miss—a box of levonorgestrel pills and a piece of wine-red lingerie. Willow had never liked being physically intimate with me. Even Naomi's existence had come from a drunken incident.

“This is it. My real home. Not the place I stayed when I was trying to forget you. Not the place I used when I was trying to be someone else. This is where I come when I need to remember who I am.” I unbuckled. Stepped out. The air smelled like pine and fresh cut grass. Alice stirred in the back. Cain lifted her out gently. She mumbled something and tucked her face into his shoulder. He carried her like it was the most natural thing in the world. I followed him up the porch steps. The wood creaked under our feet. He unlocked the door. Pushed it open. The inside smelled like him. Like home. Books on the shelves. A worn leather couch. A kitchen that looked used. Not show-ready. Lived in.

We’d planned our next path more wisely and carefully, tracking the path from one town to another so to ensure we had enough time to walk during the day and find somewhere to eat and rest for the nights. We’d ended up staying at The old lantern in for just over a week, more because of the weather forecast, it had said the snow would completely stop and the sun would be out meaning spring was definitely on its way. The day before we leave I remember Flos book in my bag and take the opportunity to have a look through it. It was a book inside a book, it looked as though she’d already filled one so had bought another to carry on her story. The fist part of the book brought me to tears, with the w

I watched Mom and Dad fuss over my little brother, soothing him as they took him out the door. The door closed softly behind them. It was not loud, but it landed in my chest like a stone. I thought I would cry. I did not. My eyes stayed dry, almost painfully dry. I stood in the living room for a very long time before going back to my room and dragging the little suitcase out from under my bed. Five years ago, I had dragged that same suitcase into this home. I had been so small then that I could barely remember the children's home. What I remembered was Mom crouching in front of me, her eyes bright and kind, asking, "Do you want to come home with me?"

Even now, surrounded by walls that I've only been familiar with for a little more than a day, my preference has remained the same. I sighed, shutting the book I was reading close, momentarily choosing to ponder over what I'd read so far. Giovanni's Room, was the title, a novel that prided itself on gay awareness and the likes of such. Regardless of what Stephen had claimed, I couldn't find the book I was reading back at home here, so I still couldn't finish it. Perhaps I was the one that just didn't search enough. Home. Only the thought threatened to bring tears to my eyes as memories of my life before this filled my head.