Seasons of Davenport Ridge: S2E3 – “Welcome to my home.”

NOELLE

“Oh, shit,” I whispered. 

I pulled away from the front door the second I spotted Ty turning to head toward my cottage.

Took quick steps to the kitchen to drop my mug off on the island and turned near the hall to glimpse myself in the full-length mirror.

I was breathing so hard in that moment. My mind was racing with too many thoughts to focus on just one.

I was running my fingers down my cornrows, then over my lounge dress, when I forced my hands off me.

“Stop,” I spat. “Who gives a shit what he thinks you look like right now?”

Well, I do. Because despite everything, my man was here. He came. 

A moment later, I heard a knock at the door. 

The air just seemed to stop being abundant in my space. I glanced that way, releasing a trembling breath.

I couldn’t tell what I was nervous about in that moment. To be fair, I didn’t really imagine this part when I packed my shit and left Chicago without telling Ty. 

I cleared my throat and pushed back my shoulders as I approached the door.

My initial thought was to unlock it and open it. But that would be too easy. 

“Who?” 

“It’s me, Noelle,” he answered. “Please open the door.”

I didn’t have to see his face to know he was at a level of pissed he couldn’t disguise in his words.

I reached over to the side table by the door to fix the flower arrangement that sat there. 

Nervous habit.

I was beyond nervous and couldn’t even lie about it.

“Who is me?”

It was stupid, stalling, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I didn’t think this far.

But the stalling was so necessary. My husband knew me. We’d been together for over two decades. He knew how to make me laugh when I was angry, what words to use and in what way to say them to soften me. His touch, even after all these years, still made it difficult to think straight. 

So… no… I couldn’t just let him in. 

I heard the heavy sigh on the other side of the door before Ty answered with, “It’s your very exhausted husband, Noey.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the weight of my heart with that.

Took another breath and turned the locks, twisting the knob and opening the door to Ty. 

His eyes were searching for mine before I could get the door fully open. 

I straightened automatically, needing to bite inside my mouth to keep from smiling at him being here. Which wasn’t hard, because just as soon as I got a good look at him, I noticed he was tired.

His eyes were a little red, lids slightly low. He wore his necktie undone; he left his dress shirt slightly untucked and hanging over his slack’s waistband. 

Ty looked slightly unpolished, which was so not a Tyson Reid thing.

Still, he looked good. 

And I missed him… and was furious with him at the same damn time.

With my deep inhale, I picked up traces of feces. Peered down to see the side of his right foot soiled with something brown. 

Ty took a step forward and towards me, his hand rising above my head to push the door open more beside me.

I pressed a hand to his chest to stop him, and his eyes went where my hand landed. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Coming in.”

“Not with those on.” I gestured at his shoes. “Smells like you stepped in some shit.”

He kissed his teeth, moving in once more.

“Absolutely not,” I voiced this time, my eyes locked on his. “Shoes off.”

He scoffed, pushing his tongue into his cheek. Without taking his eyes off me, he stepped out of his loafers using no hands. 

I bit back my smile and suppressed a laugh at the thought of him stepping in animal feces. What a perfect way to say welcome to Davenport Ridge, Mr. Reid.

Ty gestured with his hands at his shoes he set to the side outside of the cottage, and I stepped aside to let him into the cottage.

He had to duck beneath the door’s frame to enter, and the moment he was inside the cottage and I closed the door, my eyes were on his as he moved about the room in slow steps, scanning the space. 

“Welcome to my home,” I said to his back.

He suddenly stopped walking to turn and look at me over his shoulder, his brows furrowed, but still saying nothing. 

Ty’s head remained on a swivel as he moved through the area, making his way to the kitchen, eyes still roaming.

He stopped by the sink, dispensing soap into his hands and washing them. 

“It’s very pink in here,” he said as he turned off the water and reached for a sheet of paper towel nearby. 

He turned to look at me now, hands pressed against the lip of the sink behind him. “I didn’t know you liked pink.”

“I don’t… like it.”

He arched an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat. “I just always wanted a pink house.”

Both brows arched at that. Ty moved his eyes off mine to look around himself again, pushing himself off the sink to leave the kitchen. 

I swallowed hard as he entered my living room. 

His silence was driving me a kind of crazy I didn’t expect it to. 

He’d said very little, too little for me to get a read on him.

“But you know,” I started. “Not everything is pink. There’s some white in the curtains, the chairs.”

He glanced at me as he closed the distance between himself and the coffee table. 

Ty had the book I’d been reading in his hand, turning it over to check the back matter.

“I’m thinking about setting up a reading nook over there.” I pointed.

Ty looked that way. 

“Just a little something by the window,” I said with a smile.

His eyes were on me again. 

“I’d put a bookshelf over there in that corner. Something high enough to touch the ceiling—”

“Noey, what the hell are you doing?”

I jerked my head back softly, folding my arms across my chest next.

He placed the book back on the coffee table, shaking his head.

“What is happening with you right now?” he asked this time, turning to face me. “Are you going through some kind of early midlife crisis or something?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“Because why are you here?” He asked with a shrug. “Why here?”

I sucked my teeth.

“You leave Chicago without telling me,” he added. “Come and stay on this farm of all places.”

He was looking around again, then dropped his head a little to pinch the corners of his eyes.

“Baby, I have not slept in weeks since you’ve left,” he said so low it was almost like he was saying it to himself. “I’ve been looking for you every single day since I returned home to see you not there. And you were here? The whole time?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

“This isn’t you,” he said, eyes darting between mine. “This isn’t you at all. A pink house? Living on a farm? Noey, you don’t want this?”

“I don’t want this,” I said. “I don’t. I hated this place for the first few weeks. Everything about it just seemed like a big mistake, but I need to be here, Ty.”

His head tilted to one side. “What?”

I closed my eyes.

“You need to be here?” He questioned. “For what?”

My lower lip trembled at the realization that the man whom I’d loved for so many years didn’t understand me, and I didn’t know how to make him understand without explaining things I barely understood myself.

He shook his head and pressed his hands together, bringing them to his lips. “Look, I’m exhausted, okay? I need you at home. Whatever it is you’re going through, we can get through it. Therapy. Whatever. But we’ve gotta do it in Chicago. We got a flight in two hours—”

“No, you have a flight in two hours,” I replied, needing to loosen the tension on my jaw once I said that through my teeth. 

Humor found me next at his audacity. 

I laughed in that instance, genuinely humored by the fucking audacity. 

Because, of course, he booked a flight.

This was just Tyson being Tyson. Checklists and to-dos. 

This man really thought he could show up on this estate and tell me we had a flight to fly back to the place I ran away from because I wasn’t happy, and not once had he noticed that.

He was here, alright… here to bring my ass back.

I could feel my blood boiling on low heat.

“In two hours, I will be in my bedroom, in my bed, streaming a show on my smart TV,” I said, walking closer to him. “Then, I’m going to the main house to have dinner with my sisters. Because, baby, I will be doing literally anything other than boarding a fucking plane to Chicago.”

His brows furrowed.

“Because here you are, in a different state, planning for me without consulting me first,” I added. “Again. That’s us. You plan, and I go along with it, even when I don’t want to, but I’m doing so to make you happy.”

His chest started to rise and fall in our proximity. Ty lifted his hand to the side of my face to brush a finger down my cheek, and shit, I almost folded. 

Because as much as I wanted to stay pissed, stay annoyed, and feel slightly disrespected that despite me leaving without telling him, he still wanted to continue doing the shit that made me leave… my body, no doubt, missed him. 

“Baby, please stop this.”

I swallowed hard and moved away from his touch. 

“You have to stop this now,” he said, bass a little heavier in his voice this time. “You can’t do this?”

I jerked my head back. “I can’t do what?”

“Disappear,” he said, voice elevated. Tyson pressed a finger to his lips and took a breath. “You’re my wife. You can’t just up and leave our home and tell me nothing. I didn’t know if you were safe, if someone had abducted you. I had to hire someone to track you down—”

“We FaceTime’d—”

“I shouldn’t have to FaceTime my fucking wife!” 

His voice traveled around us, bouncing off the ceilings and the walls, stealing my breath.

Despite that, I remained firm in my stance, not moving an inch or allowing myself to be affected.

“Shit,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and immediately turning away.

Both hands were on top of his head as he inhaled an audible, deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, his back still to me. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. But Noelle…” He turned to look at me now. “You cannot simply do this. You can’t just leave and stay gone like this.”

“Didn’t know you’d notice.”

I said that low, but the weight of my words seemed to be louder than Tyson’s actually yelling moments ago. 

While I wanted to sympathize with my husband and the worry he must’ve experienced from my physical absence, he’d been emotionally absent for years and honestly, I felt he really needed to shut the fuck up. 

Because I may have left… but he left first.

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” He questioned, lowering his tall stature to meet my eyes head-on. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Deadass,” I replied. “Because when I was there, in Chicago, at home, where you left me, you barely noticed I was there.”

I folded my arms across my chest again. 

“I just figured Kaydee would continue to provide you the company you clearly valued.”

His expression wrinkled with confusion. “What?”

I let out an airy laugh. Because look at him, pulling off the best confused act I think I’ve ever witnessed. 

“Kaydee,” I repeated, this time through my teeth. “Your coworker you’ve been seeing. The one who texted you.”

“What….” He shook his head, eyes not leaving mine. “What text, Noelle?”

“Thanks for tonight. You were amazing, as always. I swear you’re my guardian angel and so much more,” I recited.

I knew every word by heart. Because as much as I wanted to brush it off, forget it, feel like it had no effect, it did. And those words had been playing in my head since I’d read them. 

Tyson paused in front of me, his eyes moving to my ceiling before his face broke out into a laugh.

A genuine laugh.

Not mocking or offensive.

Like he was genuinely amused.

He brought his fist to his mouth and shook his head. 

“Baby,” he started, “that text is not what you think it is.”

I scoffed. “Of course it’s not.”

“No, Noelle—”

“It’s okay,” I lied. “The Davenport women are not immune to our men being infidels. I just didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Noey, come on—”

“Please,” I said, stopping him. “To me, Ty, it was just a marker for me. A realization that shit just haven’t been right between us for too long. Your late nights at the office, your constant travel, constant cancellations. You postponed plans with me like it was nothing, just so you could work, and as I’ve learned, we spend our time and money on the things we value.”

He shut his eyes and dropped his head in front of him. 

“I never wanted to be that wife who stood in the way of her husband’s ambitions, so I stayed quiet until staying quiet really hurt, Ty.”

He lifted his eyes to me.

“Especially when I’m sacrificing so much just for you to pay me back by getting involved with another woman.”

“Noelle, baby,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even know where to begin with all of this.” 

Ty’s eyes watered as he closed the space between us.

“Everything that I do is for you,” he told me. “Everything.”

I furrowed my brow at that. “How could that be when I’ve never asked for any of these things, Ty?”

We stared at each other for a few beats, saying nothing.

That was until Ty said, “Baby, let’s go home. Please, Noey.”

“No,” I replied. 

He shut his eyes and dropped his head again. 

“You go.”

His head snapped up less than a second later.

“Noey—”

“Go,” I repeated. “You have a flight you need to catch—”

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Well, you’re not staying here, either.”

“Baby.” Tyson took my hand in his, and I swore a surge of energy rolled through me. The familiarity forced me to remain firm on my feet. “I have no bags. No change of clothes. Nothing. I came here for you. I’m not leaving. So…”

He released my hands and was peeling back his peacoat. “I’m going to shower and we’re going to talk—”

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “You are not staying in this house, Ty.”

He paused, removing his coat. “I’m sorry?”

“You are not staying in this house,” I repeated. “This is my home. You’re only visiting.”

“Where am I supposed to stay, Noelle?”

“It’s a farm,” I answered. “You have plenty of places to stay with the rest of our animals here.”

He scoffed before releasing a genuine laugh. “You’re not serious.”

All I did was nod.

The old me would have made room immediately. Because yes, he was my husband. 

So, yeah, you want a warm bed, baby? You got it. A hot shower first? You got that too. 

Making love? Oh, for sure, because even with the emotional absence, the one place that has got better over the years was the lovemaking. Despite it all, the lovemaking remained top-tier.

But I wanted none of that. 

Not even him in my home.

Because his lack of preparation to stay for the long haul was evidence of how easy I’d made it for him to just rule. How I’d solved all his problems without him even asking.

Not this Noelle.

Because Davenport Ridge, Noelle was putting herself first. No exceptions.

Tyson inhaled a deep breath and nodded slowly, eyes darting between mine. 

“Okay,” he started. “Aight.” Tyson licked his lips as he stepped closer to me. “I’ll leave your home…”

His hand landed at the side of my face, where he held it in a soft embrace. 

“But I’m not leaving this estate without my wife. That’s not happening.”

Ty’s words hit my chest with each one spoken. The conviction in his eyes sent a chill down my spine, making me shiver.

He glided his warm thumb across my lips, not blinking once. 

I struggled but couldn’t resist closing my eyes to his touch.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” he told me. “But I’m not foolish enough to try.”

I opened my eyes to see his eyelids lowered.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he added, turning away and heading to my front door.

And just like that, he was gone, stepping out and over the threshold, pushing his socked feet back into his loafers, then closing the door behind him.

I released a long exhale, one that caved my chest in and dropped the tension in my shoulders I didn’t realize I was holding the whole time.

My chest was rising and falling, my mind playing back everything that had happened moments ago.

I was processing in real time, comparing what happened versus what I expected to happen between us.

And nothing went according to any assumption I had.

Beyond his words playing on repeat in my mind, his expression when I brought up Kaydee was not what I was expecting.

At all.

He looked confused instead of guilty. 

He didn’t apologize but made it seem as if I’d gotten it wrong.

But I read that damn text. I compared it to his lack of presence and his change in routine. 

I wasn’t wrong… was I? 

But fuck, even if I were wrong, there was something humming beneath that realization that was far more detrimental to my marriage that I didn’t consider.

His cheating wasn’t really what made me leave. It was just something I could point at as a concrete reason to leave.

What if, in the off chance I got it wrong and he didn’t cheat… but I still didn’t want to go home?

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A New Episode of Seasons of Davenport Ridge, Season Two: Noelle, Will Be Posted and Sent On Monday, August, 24th!