Imagining Us

Chapter 18-Porte

Porte parked his Q8 in the line of cars in the garage adjacent to the family home. He hadn't expected to return there; he'd meant to return to his apartment in the city. There was something about Elizabeth–something about Esi that must have subconsciously led him in this direction. Towards the warmth that his family home should have provided.
He thought about her laugh.
There was a realness to her that he hadn't experienced much of outside of his friendship with JJ.
He liked it.
Porte made his way through the garage and up to the house, stopping in the foyer to hang his coat.
A pang of nostalgia hit him as he felt the warmth of the house. No matter how many times he would come back here, it would never be enough.

Porte longed to run his fingers over every tapestry, every painting and photo.

Nerissa Danvers was embedded into every inch of this place.

He missed her–his mother.

So much.

Porte had every intention to head straight to his room, decide whether or not he would stay there for the night, and maybe head out early in the morning.

"Master Porte!" Mr. Turner exclaimed. Traditionally, he would probably be considered as a butler, but his role was more of an estate manager.

"Good Evening, Teddy." Porte acknowledged the man.

"I didn't expect you this evening," Teddy said cautiously. "Will you be...joining us for dinner?"

Porte hesitated.

It was a loaded question, and just the thought of dealing with his father and his brother gave him a headache.

Mr. Turner sensed his hesitation.

"Delphine,–the man said her name reluctantly. "I believe would be overjoyed to see you."

Porte narrowed his eyes at the man.

He did miss Delphine's cooking. He missed her warmth and even secretly missed her motherly fussing. She had been with his family as long as he could remember, acting in different capacities, and he knew how much it hurt her that the Danvers men had such strained relationships.

The least he could do was stay for her.

"You play very dirty, Teddy," Porte noted.

"It was a genuine suggestion, sir." The man countered.

"I'm sure it was," Porte said sarcastically.

He acquiesced.  "You can let her know to set another place...I'll go wash up."

"Certainly," he responded with an air of smugness.

Porte shook his head in amusement and began to make his way through the halls and up to the second floor.

His phone sounded–a notification.

'Am I to assume that you made it safely?'

It was a message from Esi.

He quickly replied that he did.

'Im pretty sure that i told you to let me know when you got in.'

'You're quite bossy, you know.'

'That's the kind of thanks i get for caring?'

Porte stopped on the first landing of the stairs and his fingers hovered over his phone.

Caring.

He knew that she had no idea how that word made him feel. It wasn't one that he'd heard directed towards him for a long time, but he didn't think that she would use a word like that so flippantly.

Maybe she did mean it.

Or maybe he was reading too much into a sentence.

'What are you doing now?'

He completely switched the subject.

She sent an emoji with a thinking face.

'I see what you did there...we'll circle back to that.'

Of course she would've noticed.

'I'm in bed trying to get some much needed rest because "someone" had to detour for coffee before bringing me home.'

Porte chuckled.

'It wasnt a problem when you were inhaling your latte.'

'I did NOT inhale it...i was just surprised at how lovely it was.'

'So that justifies drinking it like a shot.'

'I feel like you might be doing a little self-reflecting because you drank yours like it was a lifeline.'

'Careful or that might be the last time i offer you a latte.'

'Oh no! Whatever shall i do. *please insert all the sarcasm in the world here*'

Porte laughed.

Out loud.

He hadn't realized that the sound of it bounced along the walls.

"He actually laughs." The scathing words came from above him.

Porte's face turned serious as he looked up towards his younger brother Luka, who was walking down the steps towards him. A sneer–quite unlike his brother's usual smirk–was etched onto his face.

"A rare sighting, bror," Luka said, his words still sharp.

How had they gotten to this point? He remembered his brother following him everywhere when they were younger. How Porte had tried to keep him close after their mother died. How Porte had to pretend that everything was and would be okay.

Then there was Natasha, his friend, and he started to feel alive again.

And then everything changed.

But his brother's eyes didn't. That color of light amber honey.

Their mother had green eyes if you weren't close enough, but if you were, you would notice that her eyes were actually hazel because that same color of honey that his brother had was flecked around her pupil.

Eyes that they would never see again–because of him. As still as Porte's body was...as much as he was trying to maintain control–he felt like he was suffocating. Like the memories surrounding were closing in on him.

"Staying for dinner?" Luka asked, his voice now softer, anger dissipating like the breeze. His brother was so good. Quick to move on.

He tried to hide the worry in his eyes, but Porte saw it and knew that he didn't deserve it.

He was about to say 'no' despite what he'd told Mr. Turner.

"Delly would love to see you," Luka inserted, strategically.

Porte raised an eyebrow at the chess move.

Well played.

Porte nodded in affirmation then moved to continue up the stairs.

"Far will be there so..." Luka trailed off. "I'm glad you're staying."

Porte was not.

He tried to hold on to his mood from before–when he was talking to Esi–, but it had slipped out of his grasp, and now he had to arm his mind to get through what would undoubtedly be a tension-filled dinner.

A/N

Apologies for the delay in updates. They should be more frequent now since I've completed the book. Just need to do a bit of editing.

Thank you so much to those who've been reading. I really appreciate it!

Drop a comment below if you like!