Delayed, Nathan Kingsly [read aloud txt] 📗

Her eyes flicker to the table. “I … Well… ” She starts and looks back at me. “I wanted you to feel more at home. So I unpacked your bag ...”

Running my hand through my hair, I twist and grip onto the counter. The only thing making a sound in the kitchen is the coffee maker. The smell is usually comforting but now causes my stomach to turn, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

It’s only after the coffee alerts us that it’s done that she speaks again. “I know I shouldn’t have gone through your bag, but would you have told me about Emma otherwise?”

“Eventually.”

“When? Years from now, when it’s too late?”

I sigh, and reach in the cabinet and bring down two cups. Pouring each of us a cup, “I’m not there yet.” Picking up the cups, I walk to the table and take a seat.

“What do you mean?” Mom asks. I hand her a cup as I take a sip of mine.

“My life is not in order yet.”

“You’ve made so much stride already. From what I read, she’s not asking for perfection, but for effort.” With weariness in her gaze, she pulls the paper from where she had it in her lap. She smooths the edges of the letter with her hands. My hands clench my cup as it crinkles, the wear of my reading it over and over again still evident with every fold and wrinkle in the paper.

“I haven’t gotten a place to live yet.”

“Who’s to say that she wants to even live here? There are likely compromises to make when you do find her if she is what you want.”

“There are things I’m not willing to compromise anymore, but there’s no question that I want her.”

She smiles and places a hand over mine that’s still gripping the cup a bit too tight. Releasing it, I squeeze her hand back. “I want to see you happy. If moving away from us again is how you do that, then that’s what I want.”

“It’s not what I want.”

“What’s not what you want?” My sister walks into the kitchen towards the coffee pot, her hair knotted and sticking up in places—her scowl in place.

“To leave,” I say, straightening in my chair.

“That’s what you keep saying.” Even with her back turned, I know she’s rolling her eyes. She turns, leaning her hip against the counter. After her first sip, her expression relaxes, and her lips turn up into the closest thing I’ve seen to a smile in a while. Then she looks between us and narrows her eyes. “What aren’t you two telling me?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, from how her scowl deepens, too quickly.

“Your brother ...”

I shoot mom a look, which she ignores.

“... has a dilemma.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She snorts and takes another drink of her coffee.

My mother sighs. “I think he could use our help.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Not a chance. It’s bad enough you went through my shit.”

“This is my way of making up for it.” She smiles encouragingly, I continue to shake my head, and my arms go over my chest.

“You went through his stuff?” Mia asks, sounding suspiciously excited about the fact.

“Yes, but to try and make him feel welcome,” Mom defends, twisting her hand in the air as if that would brush it away.

“He’s not welcome!” Mia shrugs and takes another sip of her coffee. “He’s not a guest; he’s an unwanted pest that pays rent.”

“He’s doing what?” Mom’s eyebrows spring up her forehead. “Mia Louise!”

“What?” She whines back, and I struggle to keep my smirk hidden from these two, or I’d become a target.

“I’ve taught you better hosting than that.” Mom abandons her cup as she strides across the kitchen. "Liam is your brother, but you're treating him like a stranger."

Mia spits a cuss under her breath when the coffee spills over the side onto her hand when the cup hits the counter. She should be paying attention to what she’s doing. I don’t know why she’s glaring at me like it’s my fault. Placing the cup successfully on the counter this time, she shakes out her hand and says. “He is a stranger, mom, and not only to me. I can't be the only one pissed here." She seems to plead her case with mom.

“Even so, that doesn’t stop him from being family. He’s here! He’s doing his best.” Damn, that stings.

"That doesn't give back the time we lost."  She snaps.

"You'll never get it back. Why are you wasting the present on the past?”

“Let’s say you're right, and I’m still not ready to forgive him.” Mia’s arms wrap around herself; she looks away, fixing her gaze out the window.

“Fine, then don’t,” I say, breaking their conversation.

Their heads spin towards me.

I shrug. “I mean it, doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to deserve it.” I turn my gaze to my mom. “Stay out of my stuff! Drop it. I’ll figure it out when I’m ready.”

“But--” Her mouth agape.

Shaking my head, I stand with my coffee, the letter from Emma, and start out of the room. “It’s not only her that I need to prove worth to.” I’m not sure I will ever reach that point. The hand holding the letter tightens.

“You are worthy.” Mom whispers.

“What?” Mia’s voice is low. “What don’t I know?”

“I’m a stranger, right? What do you care?” I don’t bother turning around. I have to do another search for houses in the area. Saying it aloud made me realize how much I meant it. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t compromise that.

“Hey, man,” I say before I get a brief one-armed hug from Brian.

“Hey. So, this it?” He points at the house.

I nod, “Yeah, you wanna see inside?”

“Need to stretch my legs anyway.”

I purchased it while keeping in mind the future I wanted, but if it never happens, it’s enough just for me too. It’s a simple layout, one story, and has three bedrooms with two full baths. Fastest