Chapter 11 – Card game
Athena
Noah stood in the living room, his hair a mess. He was wearing a T–shirt and dark jeans, which was rare to see since it seemed
like the Kings had a thing for suits.
Even Gia in her old age wore suits. I was always the odd one out in my jeans and Plain tops.
“Why do you let him do this? You know Aunt Ari wouldn’t let this go on if you just told her?” He takes a step closer.
I almost laugh at that.
Alex would kill me and burry me six feet under if I ever tried to do that.
That’s a known fact. But… deep down in my heart, I feel like this secret between us is the only thing that keeps me going. A sick
part of me likes that we have something we share that no one else knows.
“I’m not bothered by it.” I lie.
Noah watches me. For a second I feel like he’s about to argue but I was just humiliated a few seconds ago and had he walked in a
few minutes earlier, he would have watched the scene like a damn movie in 3D.
I exhale, forcing my emotions down. “Have you eaten?” I ask, changing the subject.
Noah studies me for a moment, as if deciding whether to push the conversation further, but eventually shakes his head.
“Come on,” I say, moving toward the kitchen. “I’ll make you something.”
He follows me, settling onto the kitchen island while I rummage through the fridge. The familiar act of cooking steadies me and gives me something to focus on besides the storm raging in my chest.
Noah has always been my only friend since I came into this family. Don’t get me wrong, everyone is so kind to me but I always hold my true self back and sometimes it feels like I only get to shed that skin off with him and it’s refreshing.
Noah leans his elbows on the counter, watching me with amusement.
“You know, I never took you for the domestic type.”
I roll my eyes at his mockery. “I cook because I have to, not because I want to.”
Honestly, I hate chores and I can’t lie that I wake up at 4 AM to get my husband ready for work. I sleep in until 10 AM and I don’t
even hear him leave sometimes.
Maybe that’s why he loves Leah. She looks like she has her shit together. I bet…
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Noah’s voice brings me back.
What are we talking about again?
1/3
Oh.
Right.
Domestic chores.
I chuckle. The tension from earlier fades just a little as we slip into an easy rhythm–joking, laughing. It’s a huge contrast to the suffocating weight of Alex’s presence.
For a minute, it feels like I’m drowning because every second, I keep thinking back to him.
As I place a plate in front of Noah, he picks at the food and asks, “So, how’s school?”
I sigh in relief that he doesn’t tease me about my red swollen eyes. Because I Know for a fact that they’re puffy as we speak. See why we click?
Sometimes you just need a friend to turn a blind eye to your misery and ask you stupid shit instead.
“Exams start soon, and I’m terrified.”
“You’ll be fine,” he says easily. “You’re smarter than half the people in your class.”
I snort. “That’s not reassuring. Because that’s a lie.”
He grins. “I’m serious. You’ve got this.”
“Well, you better buy me a huge present for my white coat ceremony.” I joke and he nods with a mouthful.
We finish eating, and Noah spots a deck of cards on the counter. He grabs them with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Wanna play?”
I hesitate. Those cards belong to Alex. He plays them With his best friends which is once in a blue moon but no one dares to touch
them.
They’re just cards one might say.
But anything that belongs to Alex is not “just a thing.”
“”
“Don’t tell me your husband won’t let you touch a bunch of stupid cards.” Noah eyes me.
Am I that obvious?
“Who said he doesn’t?”
“It’s written all over your face.”
I arch a brow, ignoring his statement.
“What’s the catch if I say yes?”
2/3
‘He pulls a bottle of vodka from the cabinet.
“Loser takes a shot.”
“That’s a bad idea.” I laugh but the idea is thrilling and since I’m not into clubs, this will do!
I smile. “You’re on.”
The game starts, and before long, I’m losing–badly.
Each shot burns, but I don’t care. The alcohol dulls the edges of my pain, making the world spin just enough to feel light again. The liquid is hot against my throat but with each shot, I’m hopeful that the pain will stop.
It doesn’t, so we keep playing and I keep losing.
“I’m starting to think that you’re losing on purpose just so you can drown in alcohol.” Noah laughs and my heavy eyes force an eye roll which I bet looks like I’m having a fucking seizure.
As if he just read my mind, Noah asks, “Athena, are you having a stroke?”
That does it.
I burst out laughing. Leaning my head on the counter as I hold my stomach.
Noah is laughing along when suddenly, the front door slams shut.
My head is spinning as I look at cold green eyes.
Alex strides in, his suit jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up, and his jaw clenched tight. His stormy gaze locks onto me, then flicks to
the bottle of vodka on the counter.
His expression darkens.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
