I see him on TV, playing his games, so I know he’s okay. But he’s clearly shut me out.
Maybe he’s just giving me a taste of my own medicine for what I did after graduation.
Maybe he’s finally done with me, or perhaps that night meant less to him than it did to me. Maybe he felt nothing.
Maybe that was the closure he needed.
I don’t know. And the not knowing is eating me alive.
I mope around the apartment and work, pretending I’m fine.
I try to keep things light for Laddie, but he keeps asking when he gets to meet his dad. I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth that Liam doesn’t even know he exists, and now I’m not sure he ever will.
To make this whole thing harder, Talia’s got her boxes packed. She leaves soon for her first assignment as a traveling nurse in Boston.
Apparently, the company will put her up in a furnished apartment, so she doesn’t need much. Three boxes sit stacked in the entryway. One more, she’ll fill with the last of her things on the day of her move.
I’m trying not to think about how much I’ll miss her.
I still feel hollow, staring into space the whole ride, lost in a tornado of thoughts.
When the hairs on my arms raise, I snap upright to look around, feeling as if someone is watching me. But it’s just a woman reading a book and a guy arguing about stocks on his phone.
No one else.
I force myself back into my seat, reminding myself my stop is coming up.
I’m tired. That’s all.
Exhaustion makes me see shadows where there aren’t any.
Still, my spine won’t stop prickling.
When the train finally stops, I step out into a blast of wind. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and walk fast.
Really fast.
I check over my shoulder once, twice… ten times.
Nothing. Nobody.
But the feeling clings to me anyway, cold and stubborn, and I hate how jumpy I am.
It feels like my brain is playing tricks on me. Like I’m coming apart at the seams.
When I climbthe stairs to the apartment door, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding all the way home.
But the door is not locked, and the second I push inside, my blood turns to ice.
Talia’s boxes are knocked over, their contents spilled across the floor like someone kicked them hard.
“Tal?” I call out. My voice cracks. “Laddie?”
Nothing.
The apartment is wrongly, terrifyingly silent.
Usually, they’d be at the kitchen island by now, eating cereal and arguing about who gets the blue bowl. But there’s no breakfast, no dishes in the sink, no note on the counter. Laddie’s little backpack sits on a chair, untouched.
