"You've got to be kidding me," Nora murmured under her breath as she stared at the text message from her boyfriend, her eyes blurring with un-shed tears. It was two days before Thanksgiving and the world's worst timing. She was hoping he would be a good buffer as she went home for the first time in months.

Nora's mother had always been the impulsive type, so it wasn't a complete shock when she'd called to say she'd married some guy named Aaron. Still, the news stung. Now she'd have to face dealing with her over dramatic mother and meeting a man that was now her step-father.

As Nora walked through the front door dragging her suitcase behind her, she looked around, "It's not the same," Nora murmured to herself, her eyes scanning the walls of her childhood home. The once familiar space had been transformed into an alien landscape of chrome and glass, adorned with abstract art that she couldn't begin to understand. Her mother had always had simple tastes, but the new additions were as jarring as the sudden silence that had filled the house since her father left. The faint scent of a cologne she didn't recognize lingered in the air, thick and musky, hinting at the presence of a man she hadn't expected to meet so soon.

The flight had been a marathon of turbulence and crying babies, and the weight of her breakup with Mark had settled into her bones like a deep ache that no amount of shifting could alleviate. She'd hoped for the comfort of her mother's arms, a warm embrace that would swaddle her in love and understanding, but what she found was a house already asleep, her mother's door closed and a note on the kitchen counter that read, "Welcome home, sweetie. Aaron and I had a late night. Happy Thanksgiving and see you in the morning!" The exhaustion of the journey clung to her like a second skin, and all Nora wanted was to crawl into her old bed and let the softness of the pillows swallow her whole. Hopefully tomorrow would be better.

Tomorrow came in the form of a sunlit room and the smell of roasting turkey wafting under the door. Nora's stomach grumbled in protest at the time on the clock—noon—but she couldn't ignore the mouthwatering aroma. She shuffled down the hall, the floorboards creaking under her feet, to find her mother in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist, her cheeks flushed with the heat from the oven. "Oh, good, you're up," her mother exclaimed, turning to give her a peck on the cheek. "I've been cooking all day. Aaron had to go out for a bit, but he'll be back soon."

Her mother looked at her with a mix of excitement and trepidation, as if waiting for Nora's judgment. "How was the flight?" she asked, her eyes searching Nora's face.

"It was... fine," Nora replied, the lie sticking to the roof of her mouth like dry gravy. She hadn't slept a wink and the weight of her breakup was heavier than the luggage she'd dragged from the airport. She took a seat at the kitchen table, her gaze drifting to the half-empty wine bottles on the counter. "Where's Aaron?"

That was a preview of What We Can't Have: A Forbidden Age-gap Story. To read the rest purchase the book.

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