20 Days In His Bedroom

Chapter Fifty

We packed our things into bags. Honestly, Kyle had bought almost everything—mom and dad really should reimburse him for the fortune he spent.

"I don't actually have many things," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're coming back home, Twy," he said, blinking as if he wanted me to feel better. "To all your stuff. Your clothes."

I swallowed hard. This journey—it felt more like a wild, unbelievable story than real life. A fictional nightmare and miracle mixed together. "It was a hard journey," I admitted, closing my eyes. "But you know what? I'm going to miss these days."

The tears I was holding back finally spilled over. It happens every time I leave a place—or a life—that I've grown used to. Kyle wrapped his arms around me, and I braced for teasing or confusion. But he just held me tightly.

"I get it," he said quietly. "I'll miss these days too. It felt so unreal."

"So unreal," I whispered, nodding. No one would believe this story when I told it—my friends, my classmates. It sounded like something out of a novel.

⸻

At the airport, we waited for our plane. Kyle knew how terrified I was of flying—my last trip by plane had been my first ever, and it was a disaster. So he did everything he could to keep me calm, probably like it was his thousandth flight.

"Imagine if we had another accident," he joked, chuckling.

"Not funny, you silly," I punched him lightly.

"Come on, it'll be another adventure," he said, hugging me close. For a moment, I smiled. I would miss living with him like this—waking up next to him, sharing every little moment. I loved him fiercely.

Maybe part of why I was so afraid to leave was because I'd miss living with him. The day I stopped seeing him every day—it terrified me. Thank God he wanted to marry me. I knew my parents wouldn't approve—not yet. I was still young. But I knew he loved me.

"Kyle, just don't leave me," I whispered before the plane took off.

⸻

We landed in Washington. I couldn't even put my feelings into words—nervous, overwhelmed, but somehow... like I was home.

"You're already too happy," Kyle teased as he dragged our bags.

"And nervous," I added.

"Do you know where your home is? Or are you still too young to know?" he teased with a smirk.

"For the first time, I'll be your leader," I said arrogantly, rolling my eyes.

"Let's see about that," he said, grinning.

⸻

We took a cab, and I stared out the window, memories flooding me. It felt like I'd left this place ages ago. I was scared—scared of so many things. But all I wanted was to see my parents, to feel their hugs. I missed them terribly.

When we arrived at my childhood home, it was just as I remembered. Like the house had been holding its breath, waiting for me to come back. Honestly? I never wanted to leave.

Kyle paid the driver, and I stood outside, staring at the door. Would my parents be inside? I was so nervous.

I knocked. Kyle stayed back, waving gently as if to tell me to take this step alone. Maybe he was afraid of how my parents might react. I didn't have the strength to explain how I'd come here with him.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Twy?" Grandma's mouth dropped open.

I'd expected this. Tears streamed down my face as I ran to her and hugged her tightly. I missed her—the sound of her voice, the warmth of her arms.

I was afraid to ask about mom and dad, but somehow I knew they were safe. Why else would Grandma be here?

Without me even asking, she nodded as if reading my mind, then closed the door gently behind us. I didn't tell her Kyle was outside—he could wait.

Then my mom appeared. Thank God.

I ran to her, and she was already crying.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed.

Me too, Mom. Me too. I hoped no one else ever had to live through this nightmare—the terrifying emptiness of not knowing if your family was gone forever. But the overwhelming happiness I felt now made me want to cry even more.

"Where's Dad?" I asked between sobs.

"He's fine," she said, tears still falling. "He left two days ago—said he wouldn't come back until he found you."

I shook my head. "No, he didn't come with me."

"How did you come then?"

"With a guy." My voice trembled, nervous to say it. "Actually, he saved me. I owe him my life." Please, Mom, please like him.

"And he left?" Her voice was serious now.

"No, he didn't leave me. He helped me with—"

"I mean now. Where is he?" She cut me off.

"He's outside. He didn't want to—"

Mom didn't wait for me to finish. She opened the door to look for him. What was she going to do? Scold him? Thank him? I saw Kyle hiding behind a tree, trying not to laugh. The moment made me want to laugh too—but it wasn't the right time.

"Why didn't you ask him to come inside?" Mom yelled at me.

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Are you really asking me why?" Mom turned toward me, stern but grateful. "We owe him our lives. At least we should thank him properly."

Oh, thank God. For a moment, I thought she might want to chase him away or worse. I really have the best mom in the world.

⸻

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