Chapter 164: Jet Lag and Soft Chaos
The drive back was quiet. Val had fallen asleep halfway through, her head leaning against the window, sunlight spilling over her hair in a soft, golden hue. Even Duchess, tucked in her carrier on the back seat, seemed to sense the calm. Her occasional meow had turned into low, sleepy purrs.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I glanced at Val again and almost didn’t want to wake her. Her breathing was slow, steady — the kind of peaceful you only see after days of running on empty. The trip from London had clearly worn her out.
"We’re home," I murmured, but she didn’t stir.
So I left the engine running for a bit, grabbed Duchess first, and carried the carrier inside. The cat made a single displeased sound when the cold air of the apartment brushed her fur, then went quiet again as I set her down in the living room.
Two minutes later, I was back outside, loading her luggage from the trunk. Two suitcases and a duffel, one of which looked like it had been packed by someone who forgot airlines have weight limits.
She still hadn’t moved.
Her head had shifted a little, lips parted, cheek resting on her shoulder. I stood there for a few seconds, one hand braced on the door, and smiled. She looked like she belonged there — peaceful and stubbornly refusing to wake up.
Finally, I leaned in and tapped her arm gently.
"Val... hey, we’re home."
Her brows knit, and she murmured, half-asleep, "Nooo..."
I blinked, a little amused despite myself. "What do you mean no?"
She turned her face away from the light spilling through the opened door, her voice muffled. "Just five more minutes..."
"Val, you’re not in bed. You’re in a car," I reminded her.
She hummed like she was thinking about it, then muttered, "Still comfy."
I let out a small laugh. "You’ll be more comfortable inside, you know."
"Nooo," she said again, dragging out the word like a stubborn child refusing to wake up.
I sighed, shaking my head. "You’re unbelievable."
Her lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes just a sliver, squinted at me, and mumbled in the softest, sleepiest voice,
> "Can I just stay like this?"
I raised an eyebrow. "In the car?"
She nodded — barely — and started closing her eyes again.
"Val," I tried again, suppressing a laugh, We’re literally home. The house is only just a few steps away. You just have to walk ten steps, not run a marathon."
She made a tiny sound that was somewhere between a whine and a sigh. Then, without warning, she lifted her arms toward me, palms open, face still scrunched from sleep.
> "Carry me."
I blinked. "Seriously?"
She gave a tiny pout — that exact one she used whenever she wanted her way. Even half-asleep, it worked like a charm. Her lips pushed forward, eyes half-lidded, hair slightly messy from the nap, and somehow she still managed to look unfairly adorable.
"Val..." I started, but one look at her face and I already knew resistance was pointless.
She blinked up at me, repeating my words with a faint pout. "The house is only just a few steps away," she said, and I could tell she knew exactly what she was doing.
I huffed a small laugh. "Fine."
Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes were still closed. "Thank you husband." Her voice still sounding a bit cracked from sleep.
I shook my head but leaned forward, looping my arms under her and lifting her up. She immediately melted into me, head tucked against my shoulder, the faintest hum leaving her throat as if to say this is better.
"Of course you’d fall asleep halfway through being carried," I muttered, nudging the car door shut with my hip.
The walk inside wasn’t exactly graceful. Val wasn’t heavy, but she wasn’t exactly light either, and trying not to wake her made it worse. By the time I reached the couch, I was already regretting not insisting she walk.
I lowered her carefully onto the cushions. She shifted a little, curling up almost instinctively, one hand reaching for something — for me.
I sat beside her, catching my breath. "You’re heavy," I said under my breath.
Without even opening her eyes, she murmured, "You should work out more."
I stared at her, actually annoyed this time. After carrying her all the way from the car, that was the first thing she said? It sounded almost ungrateful, like the effort didn’t even register.
"Excuse me?" I asked, still catching my breath.
But she didn’t reply. Instead, she moved again, turning on her side so that her head rested on my thigh, her fingers loosely holding one of my hands like it was a pillow too. Within seconds, her breathing evened out again.
I could’ve moved her. I should’ve, maybe. But I didn’t.
Because there was something about this version of Val — quiet, soft, unguarded — that I rarely got to see. She was always so full of energy, quick with her comebacks, always one step ahead of everyone else. But here, right now, she was just... Val.
No genius, no teasing, no edge. Just my girl, asleep on my lap like the world finally decided to give her a break.
I brushed a few strands of hair from her face, watching the way her lips parted slightly as she exhaled. "You’re impossible," I whispered again.
Her lips twitched faintly. "Love you too," she mumbled, half-dreaming.
That made me smile. The kind that starts small and lingers, the kind that settles somewhere deep.
Moments like this were quiet, simple, but real. And they reminded me why, even after everything; the distance, the long nights, the chaos, I could never get tired of loving her.
She was warmth, wrapped in chaos. My calm, even when she was the reason I couldn’t think straight.
I leaned back against the couch, careful not to move too much, and let her sleep. Duchess purred softly from her carrier in the corner, as if the whole apartment had collectively decided to take a breath.
And for once, I didn’t feel like I needed to be anywhere else.
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To be continued...