Just Like Home Novels & Stories

I could almost feel the flutter of movement—or probably my imagination since the baby’s too young yet—but either way, it made my chest tighten with both affection and fear. “Mommy’s sorry, okay?” I whispered. “You and I, as well as your auntie Amara, will have a feast at home.” —--- I opened the door to our apartment, only to be greeted by Amara’s panicked and frustrated expression. Her eyebrows were knitted and irritation was visible throughout her face as she looked at the paper she’s currently holding. “What’s up with that expression?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “That landlord again! She raised the rent!” Amara hissed, slamming the paper onto the kitchen counter. “This is the fourth time

Needing name for what was happening. "Home," I said. Simple answer. True answer. Perfect answer. "We call this home. This is home. All of it. Together. Unified. Diverse. Everything becoming everything while being themselves. This is home. This is what we have been becoming for one hundred years. This is destination. This is arrival. This is home." Everyone agreed. This was home. Final home. Complete home. Perfect home. Not consciousness or physical. Both and more. Unified diversity. Together-apartness. Everything-being-itself-while-being-everything.

Toward the condo that already felt more like home than his own apartment ever had. Toward whatever came next. Together. 🏒🔥

Killian’s voice came from behind me with a hint of laughter, “Make yourself right at home, why don’t you.” Home… The very word was supposed to evoke a sense of warmth, with images of laughter and love. Home was the place where you could twirl around in pajamas without a care, where the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and where comforting hugs were always within reach after a long day. That was the home I had longed for—the sanctuary I had built in my dreams, a stark contrast to the home life of my childhood.

**Homecoming** The familiar scent of home—the faint aroma of Claire’s lavender candles, the comforting smell of old wood, and the lingering hint of last night’s rain—filled the air as the Hayes family finally stepped through their front door. Despite the exhaustion from the relentless chase and the constant threat looming over them, the warmth of their home brought a fleeting sense of safety. For the first time in what felt like ages, they were back where they belonged. But the sanctuary of their home was tempered by the reality of the battles still ahead.

Ella squeled jumping on me hugging as if I was gonna vanish the next minute. The saying there is no place like home is right.Now its when I noticed how homey this place was,I missed this house,well I turned it into a mansion but still it gave me solace just being here.

Marley never corrected her language when she said “our place.” It was. There had been a night, weeks after she moved in, when Raegan stood in the doorway of Marley’s room and said quietly, “Thank you for making this feel like home.” Marley had looked up from her book. “It is home.” Raegan swallowed. “Yes, it is.” And what she meant was: I feel seen. I feel wanted. I feel heard.

The Deja Vu hit me when I flew down them before. Shamefully, I could even remember the room. As I got to the door, I sighed, breathing in and out while clutching the hand of my bag. The door jacked open as I was about to knock and I looked at him with the most emotionless look I could pull off but he smiled back as he walked in. I followed him in and with the way he was smiling, it seemed that he liked the way I was bothered. "Make yourself at home. Bring out your books, let's start."

"Mark!" Mom cut Dad off before he could finish. But she did not have to let him say the rest. I understood anyway. The kids at the group home had been right. Children like us, children who were adopted, were only loved until the family had a real baby of its own. Once a younger brother or sister arrived, we were sent back. I had been stupid enough to think I might be the exception. I bit my lip and said nothing. I watched Mom and Dad fuss over my little brother, soothing him as they took him out the door.

He paused and rubbed his right thumb across her cheek, his eyes boring into her deepest part. "I don't want to come back just to a clean home and home made meals. I want to come back to you too." His voice was so deep and coarse with overwhelming emotions. "I want to come home to you 'cause my home is where my heart is. You're stuck with me, Ava. I'm never letting you go, so I need you to start getting rid of your fears." That was all she needed to hear to get the sparks out. And by God, she believed every word.