The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 262

NOAH.

The house is quiet after Adrian and Gunner leave.

Their laughter still echoes faintly in the walls, like an afterimage, but it fades quickly, leaving something heavy in its place.

I stand there for a moment longer than necessary, glass still in my hand, staring at nothing as Adrian’s voice loops in my head, refusing to let me think of anything else apart from what he said.

Do I want Sierra? I don’t know. There is this part that gravitates towards her, but there is also the part that holds on to Chloe. The part that refuses to let the past go.

Exhaling sharply, I set the glass down before I throw it.

I turn and walk towards the twins' room even as I try to push the thoughts away. As I try to drown the feeling of unease I felt when Adrian admitted that he was seeing someone.

I push open the door. Nova is sprawled sideways across her bed, clutching the necklace Sierra gave her like it might disappear if she lets go while Nolan lies on his back, hands folded neatly over his chest, expression serious even in sleep.

I adjust Nova’s blanket, brushing hair from her forehead, before kissing both their foreheads.

I stand there, watching them breathe, before giving them one last look.

My feet take me down the hallway without conscious thought, towards the room I’ve always kept locked.

The air inside smells faintly of lavender and antiseptic. Her scent has faded, given I haven’t been here in weeks. Not since the day Sierra found me here.

Tonight, though, I need Chloe. I need something to hold on to. Some reminder that I don’t want Sierra. Some reminder that I’m not falling for her like I did before. A reminder that Chloe was the only one who deserved my love.

I move toward the dresser first, opening drawers. My fingers brush against her things, but this time, none of it does anything. None of them anchor me the way I’d hoped.

I turn to the closet and open it. Her clothes hang immaculately arranged. I shove them aside, searching without knowing what I’m looking for. I just want something. Anything that will make me feel closer to Chloe. Anything that can chase the feelings surrounding Sierra’s name.

In my hurry and desperation, my shoulder bumps a shelf. Something shifts and a box tips.

Books tumble down, hitting the floor.

“Fuck,” I mutter, crouching to pick them up and that’s when I see it. A notebook. It lies open on the carpet.

I haven’t seen it in a long time, but I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere. It’s Chloe’s.

I frown and stare at it like it’s a rattlesnake. I know that for a fact that Chloe never kept a diary. She used to laugh at the idea, said it was pointless, that memories were better lived than written.

I pick it up slowly, then move to the bed. My fingers tremble as I sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight, the notebook resting heavy in my hands.

I shouldn’t read this, I know that, but curiosity claws at me.

The first page isn’t dated. The ink is uneven, and the pressure is inconsistent.

[The pain is unbearable, and sometimes it gets so bad it overshadows everything else in my life. Every moment. Every dream. Every memory.

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