Either way, everything that had happened so swiftly and so strong with the current of emotion the other night was all my fault. Or at least, partly.
It was my fault.
Leaving the decorations in my dorm room.
Trusting Natalie.
Trusting Vadika to see me as more than someone she needed to take pity on for so long apparently.
Even trusting Ryan, though I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I knew that it wasn’t just him at fault here. That was for sure.
I was a plain awful friend to the one person on campus who had ever cared about me and laughed with me and made me feel alive. Though there was still truth to my words. Still fairness to letting Ryan go, so he could flourish and be who he was meant to be without me getting in his way and messing things up any further for him.
My phone remained silent from when I had turned it off.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
If I wasn’t ready to deal with returning for my salt lamp and clothes, I certainly wasn’t ready to face that.
Another small knock clattered against my shut door. “Darling, you should be up by now.”
“I know,” I whispered, the words muffled as I huddled in my blankets.
“Are you getting up?” Gertie asked, her voice a little louder between the thin barrier.
With a huff, I pushed to a sitting position. Everything in the room was still the same as I’d left it. It was as it always had been since Ryan had begun to share the space with me over the past few weeks. Dirty clothes had been strewn over the colorful rug beneath my feet. My legs hung over the side of the bed as I tried not to look at it all.
“Yeah, I’m up.”
“Good.” I could nearly hear her gratification at the fact. “Someone’s here for you.”
Ryan?
Clutching the sheets to my chest, I tried to see if I could feel my heart still beating through the layers. It was. However faint and stilted, I breathed. In and out. For some reason, I hoped that, somehow, he’d show up eventually, yet I also didn’t.
But a week had passed now, and there still was nothing.
Maybe once and for all, I wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. It wasn’t like without me, he or Vadika had nothing left on campus, like in my abysmal case. They had friends. They had lives and joy and love neither of them wanted to include me in.
And things had ended.
The self-pity was strong in the morning, sometimes stronger than late at night if I lie around long enough.
“Who?” I finally built the courage to ask.
“Get dressed. Or don’t. That’s up to you.” Gertie didn’t answer the question. “I’ll be downstairs.”
I pushed myself the rest of the way up. My legs, even with all their rest, still felt unsteady. Leaving the bed unmade, I stripped out of my oversize shirt, sliding on comfortable drawstring pants and a loose sweater.
When I had been outside with Gertie the other day, already, I had been shocked by how cold it was getting now that October was in full swing. Still, I didn’t complain. At the time, I let the brisk chill seep into my bones until I was forced to retreat back inside. It had been nice in the moment to feel something other than the strange quality I hadn’t felt for years now.
Grief.
Sniffing, I barely looked in the mirror before I headed down the stairs, listening for any voices. I noticed that no one stood by the front door. Sounds of dishes clattered down the hall with quiet murmurs.
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, I looked at the four other people scattered inside, sitting at the tiny round table, cluttered with delicate teacups and spoons they stirred with.
Faith stood. Her chair screeched as she pushed it back. “Good, you’re actually up. I wasn’t sure.”
