“My pain is real. I am real.”
I whisper it to nobody, and even that feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.
Footsteps creak behind me, but I don’t lift my head. I don’t move. I hope, absurdly, that the floor might swallow me whole.
“Cass?”
I shake my head, hard, wishing she would just go. Leave me here. Let me rot with my memories. Let me die with the ghost of his voice.
“Cass, please talk to me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, willing the darkness to open and swallow me like a black hole.
Her footsteps move closer—slow, hesitant.
I hear the scuff of her shoes, the uneven breath, the fear.
“Don’t.”
My voice is a rasp.
“Leave me alone. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you here. Go. Leave me to rot.”
Silence drops again.
Oh, sweet, suffocating silence.
“Cass, I’m not leaving you.”
Her voice sighs, soft but unyielding.
“I don’t want you here.”
“Well, isn’t that a shame. It’s been three years and you are still living in?—”
I spin so fast the rage almost throws me off balance.
Standing.
Shaking.
Not small anymore—just furious.
“Don’t say his fucking name.”
Her eyes soften the way people’s do when they pity you.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Cass, please let me help you. You can’t live like this. I’m worried about you.”
I shake my head, stare at the floor because looking at her hurts too much.
Every time I look at her, all I see is him.
“Cass, talk to me,” she pleads.
“Please just go,” I whisper.
