Chapter Twenty-One:

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Sun light filters in from the window, just breaking through the parted curtains, lighting up the room like a Christmas tree. I yawn, rolling over onto my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to find my thoughts.

When did I get in bed? How  did I get in bed? Sitting up, I rub the back of my neck, examining my clothes- the same ones I'd worn last night, although they do like slightly more rumpled.

Rolling over, I peel the warm comforter off me and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, sliding down so they touch the floor.

My eyes are drawn to a neon yellow sticky note on the side table, and I lean over to grab it, plucking it off the wood surface.

I recognize the scratchy, slanted writing right away, smiling as I read the note over.

You fell asleep, but I didn't want to wake you, I moved you into bed... hope that's okay.

Nathan

I can feel the smile on my face growing, finding joy in the simplicity of his words.

After throwing on some clean clothes, I head to the kitchen, following the sound of voices and the potent smell of coffee.

I find the Walker household seated around the table, mugs in hand, empty bowls in front of them.

"Morning sweetie," Helen smiles kindly at me, standing up to grab me a bowl." You were so tired; we didn't want to wake you up." She ladles the steaming oatmeal out of the pot and into the bowl, grabbing a spoon before setting it down at the empty seat beside Matteo.

"Sorry about that, I don't usually sleep in that late." I frown at the clock, revealing I'd slept in by a couple of hours. My eyes flicker to Nathan, who's already looking at me, but he looks away, a smile pulling at his lips.

"No need to apologize." Owen sips at his coffee, sending me a quick smile before going back to the news paper.

"My sister, you met her on Christmas, Maria, has invited us for a lunch at their house. They live out in the country, and they have a great pond for ice skating, would you like to come with us?" Helen smiles at me, and everyone looks on in anticipation, making my cheeks heat up.

"I don't want to intrude- "Enzo cuts me off, a laugh escaping his lips.

"You're family, how is it intruding?"

"If you're sure- "I'm not even finished speaking before Matteo hugs me, high fiving Enzo across the table.

"Emma you are going to love it."

I smile back, with full confidence in his words, that I will.

.   .  .   .   .

The property is huge expanse of hills, trees and fields, all cloaked in a thick layer of snow. Their farmhouse, a two-story clapboard building with a wrap around porch, looks picturesque against the scenery, the smoke bellowing out of the chimney forming perfect little clouds above the roof before it's washed away by the icy breeze.

I follow The Walker's up the steps, my overnight bag bouncing on my back, greedily drinking in everything around me, trying to mentally document it to memory forever. Just as Owen's about to ring the doorbell, it flies open, sending the wreath upon it swinging, and we're ushered into the house amongst Italian exclamations and hugs, smiles and laughs all around.

Peyton and Mia crush me in a bear hug, excitedly talking about everything they want to show me and everything we should do. I even get a hug from Antonio, their older brother whom I didn't talk to much when they were over.

Love, EmmaWhere stories live. Discover now