Page 25 of I Do, You Don’t (You Don’t #1)

False Awakening Sneak Peek

Nadia

Prologue

Nadia

M y name is Nadia Kent, once Valenti, and my life looks like a dream. The kind little girls scribble into journals, convinced it will come true.

Husband? Perfect. Children? Amazing. Aspirations? On point.

I press a knife into the peanut butter, watching it curl and cling as I spread it across warm slices of whole wheat bread.

The scent of toasted grain mingles with roasted peanuts, earthy and comforting.

Late-afternoon sunlight slants through the open kitchen window, casting golden stripes across the granite countertop.

Outside, cicadas drone lazily in the trees.

From the living room, Arielle and Ava’s laughter bubbles up, high-pitched, unfiltered, alive. It fills the house like wind chimes in a summer breeze, brushing against my ribs and stirring something inside me.

The front door groans open. I don’t turn. I don’t need to.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jarren’s voice carries through the air, deep and familiar, like the low hum of a cello.

“In the kitchen!” I call, still smoothing peanut butter into the corners of the bread.

His footsteps fall across the hardwood, slow and deliberate. I se nse him before I see him—his warmth, his gravity. Then his lips brush the curve of my neck, and a shiver blooms across my skin, like goosebumps chasing a breeze.

“Mmm. Peanut butter sandwiches. My favorite,” he murmurs, his breath grazing my ear.

I laugh, leaning into him, the heat of his chest seeping through my shirt. “You say that about everything I make.”

“Because everything you make is my favorite,” he says, arms wrapping around my waist like a promise.

I close my eyes, letting the moment sink into my bones. The kitchen smells of bread, sunlight, and him.

“Remember when we added the extra bedroom?” I murmur, my voice barely above the hush of the house.

Jarren hums against my temple. “Best decision we ever made. Well… second best.”

I turn in his arms, arching a brow. “And the best?”

His blue eyes catch the light, glinting like lake water. “Marrying you.”

I rise onto my toes and kiss him, slow and certain. “Smooth talker. Planning to launch me to the moon?”

He chuckles, low and warm. “Not today. But I’ll let you know when I need a volunteer.”

We’re teasing, but the love is real. It thrums between us like a second heartbeat.

I bury my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of cologne, skin, and something that is only Jarren.

Then, static.

It creeps across my vision like frost on glass. I blink once. Twice. The kitchen tilts. My brain fuzzes, like a radio tuned just off frequency.

“Hey,” Jarren says, pulling back to study me. “Everything okay?”

I nod, blinking against the tears. I won’t let this ruin the moment. “More than okay. I love you so much. You and the girls, you’re everything.”

The world softens, edges blurring into gold. But something isn’t right.

A scent drifts in, roses. Heavy, cloying, unnatural.

“Do you smell that?” I whisper, nose wrinkling. “It’s like roses. Too many of them.”

Jarren frowns. “Did you want flowers? I should’ve brought some.”

“No. It’s strong, like someone spilled perfume or shoved a bouquet under my nose.”

He scans the room, brow creasing. “Maybe it’s coming from outside?”

Before I can respond, a blur of pink and purple bursts into the room.

“Daddy!” two voices squeal.

Arielle barrels into Jarren’s leg. Ava toddles close behind, arms flung wide. Their princess gowns shimmer, tiaras slipping atop blonde curls.

Jarren scoops them up, spinning. “Here are my little queens! Ruling the kingdom without me?”

Arielle giggles, eyes sparkling. “I made Ava kiss a frog, but he didn’t turn into a prince!”

I laugh, though the rose scent still hangs in the air like fog.

I hand out sandwiches. Arielle devours hers like a warrior. Ava dismantles hers piece by piece, licking the peanut butter with dainty precision.

I lean against the counter, watching Jarren cradle them. His calloused hands are impossibly gentle. The air smells of cookies and love.

“How was work?” I ask softly.

He kisses my forehead. “Good. But I missed my girls.”

His eyes crinkle, and that look always undoes me.

I wrap my arms around him. “You make me so happy.”

Then, sound.

Faint. Rising.

Voices.

Not the girls. Older. Human.

My spine stiffens. We live deep in the woods. No one should be here.

“Jarren,” I whisper. “Do you hear that?”

He tilts his head. “Hear what?”

“The voices.” My throat tightens. “People. Talking. Can’t you hear them?”

He sweeps his gaze around the kitchen. “No. Are you okay?”

I clutch his shirt, heart hammering. The voices grow louder now, inside the room.

He loosens my grip and calls out, “Arielle! Ava! Come here, girls!”

Small feet thump across the floor.

Jarren kneels, voice steady but firm. “New game. Mommy’s taking you to the big bathroom. Be super quiet, okay?”

Arielle nods. Ava claps.

He turns to me. “Take them. Lock the door. I’ll check the property.”

The voices coil, circling like wind through trees.

“Jarren, I don’t think”

He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay. Just keep them safe.”

I nod, gather the girls. “Let’s go on a bathroom adventure!”

Inside, I lock the door with trembling fingers.

“Girls,” I whisper, “hide-and-seek in the bathtub. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

They giggle, climbing in. I perch on the toilet lid, ears ringing.

“Mommy?” Arielle’s voice is small. “Are you scared?”

I force a smile. “No, sweetheart. I’m just playing the quiet game too.”

The voices swell. A chorus.

One cuts through. A woman. Familiar.

My best friend.

I freeze. I know that voice. But the memory slips away.

“Do I have a best friend?” I whisper.

Then, softer: “Mom? Dad?”

Nothing.

I grip the sink. “I, I can’t remember.”

Jarren. Arielle. Ava.

Don’t forget them. Please. Never forget them.

The fog bursts into white.

I scream. “I want to stay!”

But stay where?

I’m. Not. Home.

My lungs seize. “Jarren!”

His voice echoes, distorted. “Nadia! I’m coming!”

I lunge for the door. Light floods the room, too bright, too white. It slices through the air like an undertow.

Something unseen yanks me forward. My feet skid across the tile.

“Jarren!” I scream, voice cracking, nails raking the doorframe until they splinter.

Arielle and Ava, blurred shapes in princess gowns—reach for me, mouths open in silent cries.

Then the world folds in. Sound vanishes. Color drains. Only the scent of roses lingers.