She sits cross-legged on the coffee table directly across from us, giving me the distinct impression I’m about to be ensnared into spilling the full story. “So, here we are again,” she announces as though it isn’t obvious, taking a generous swig from her bottle.
“Same shit, four years later,” Brady adds bitterly.
I catch a stray look. “But it’s not exactly the same, is it, Chase?”
If she notices me rolling my eyes, she doesn’t mention it. After a very uncomfortable moment of silence, I say, “No, it’s not. I wasn’t dating him four years ago.”
Her violet eyes crinkle in the corners as she smiles sadly. “So why would he take off now? Seemed like he was pretty happy where he was when I was there.”
When Blake visited, things were still brand new and still very unsteady. When I ask her why she got that impression, she says, “He was safe enough with you that he could be a bit unstable. As crazy as that may seem, it is a good thing.”
Sure, good as long as that was what he needed. If he suddenly didn’t need it anymore, then not so much. “I don’t know, Blake. I’d like to think so too, but there’s only two real options here, and both of them scare the fuck out of me.”
Brady taps his fingers restlessly on his thigh, and suddenly, as I watch the movement, facing the weight of this situation makes the air rush out of my lungs. This is too much. My molars grind as I try to push through, force myself to get the words out but they refuse to form. Living in this reality has been agonizing, but voicing it makes it real all over again.
It’s been twenty-eight days since everything fell apart. Since I tried to prepare myself for a world without my mom in it, since I had to tell her that her baby didn’t make it. Then only to rush back home with no reason except intuition and find the love of my life gone without a trace. Only a brief, scribbled note saying not to look for him.
Blakely hums in consideration. “But it’s got to be just as awful not to know for sure. That was the worst part last time, that you had no idea what happened to him.”
Ah, yes. The last time we lost Brady’s little brother. When he got kicked out for being gay at sixteen years old, and by the time we picked our jaws up off the ground and got their essentials, he was gone without a trace. Just like this time, with the exception of the whole “figuring out he’s the only person for me” thing. Well, and the homophobia and forcing him out part, too. That’s different. But the point is, Easton is gone with no way for us to track him down and make sure he’s okay.
Brady says softly, “Yeah, awful isn’t even the beginning.”
She nods in understanding. “Well, let’s see if we can figure it out. What are the two options, exactly?”
“The ex,” I mumble, the words like ash on my tongue. “He was with an abusive piece of shit before he found us. We tried looking into him, but we kept coming up empty. Either he got his hands on him and forced him to come back or he got overwhelmed and disappeared on his own.”
Blakely purses her lips as she considers this. Brady makes a pained noise that shatters something in me I’m certain will never be repaired. Have I given the impression thus far that we’re coping well? Because we’re not.
I’m not sure what’s harder, having to keep living around the gaping hole in my chest or having to watch my best friend on the planet do the same. Brady and I have never pretended to have the healthiest of dynamics. He forced me to be his friend when we were freshmen in college, and since then, our emotions are a little too dependent on each other. I’ve given up feeling weird about it. In fact, I’d argue that it’d be strange if him being upset didn’t hurt me and vice versa.
You think when the worst thing happens, it will kill you because surely there’s no way you could survive this type of pain. You can feel it tearing you apart with each breath you take, so surely there’s a point when your body can’t take anymore and just gives up. Then the sun keeps coming up, even when you begfor it not to. The world keeps turning, despite the fact that yours has been halted.
It still hasn’t gotten any easier, we just have to keep going.
I hate it.
All I want to do is rot in my bed where I can still smell his shampoo on my pillowcases. In my defense, I’ve never pretended I wasn’t down bad over this guy.
I don’t notice that Blake has left until she comes back, wedging her way in between me and Brady on the couch with a laptop clutched between her manicured fingers. “Let’s see if I can find a trail that you guys missed. No one is invisible on the internet. What’s his name?”
You know, I’m not sure Blake has ever told me exactly what her job is. All I know is that she got a good one in our field and works remotely to travel with Landon. But watching the way her fingers fly after I tell her the piece of shit’s name, I can’t help but wonder if she’s a fucking spy or something.
It’s not like I’m particularly inexperienced in the art of background checks, but as I’m watching her, I feel like a novice. “I see where you hit a wall; he’s had to verify the past about five years ago.”
My stomach turns just thinking about why that could be. Suddenly, I really hope that Easton just got sick of me and bailed. It would be miles better than the possibilities staring me down like a loaded gun. “Yeah,” I mutter. “And I don’t know much about him. He only mentioned the fuck’s last name one time, but didn’t exactly give me his mother’s maiden name.”
She shrugs. “It’s going to take some time, but I’ll find him. Even if that’s not what happened this time, keeping an eye on this guy isn’t the worst idea.”
It occurs to me that I’ve never told Blake what happened to Easton. “How?” I ask weakly, hoping she understands what I mean.
Her violet eyes reach mine just long enough to roll them with a dizzying amount of sarcasm, even for me. “I may have born at night, Chase, but not last night. I can read between the lines well enough.”
I open my mouth to apologize, but the sound of a door opening interrupts me. A moment later, a male voice calls out, “Where’s my angel?”
Personally, she gives me more Tasmanian devil vibes but maybe that’s because I don’t bat for her team. Must make me biased, I guess. If Landon is surprised to find his wife cozied up to me and Brady on the couch, he doesn’t show it. Just leans over the back and meets her for an indecent kiss that makes jealousy spike my heart rate. I had that, just for a moment in time. Was it meant to be a lesson? Show me what could be possible if I wasn’t such an asshole? A punishment?
Yeah, that’s most likely.
