“Is that so?” I lift a brow. “Because I feel fantastic.”
I’m not sure if she picks up on the sarcasm because she just stares, those wide baby-blues drowning in concern.
Slowly, she raises the baking tray higher, like a barricade and peace offering in one. And somehow, miraculously, it holds an unburnt lemon cake. A pastel yellow drizzle glistens faintly, dripping in neat, uneven lines down the sides—lines she’s clearly fussed over, spent time making messily perfect.
“If you eat some of this, even just a crumb, I swear I won’t bother you for the rest of the day.”
The fact she’s using that as a bargaining chip to convince me to eat, makes me feel horrendous. Makes me realise how shit of a ‘good friend’ I’ve been. It was the one thing I’d promised her, and I’ve been the very opposite.
I hadn’t been a friend. I’d barely been a person.
“Kacey,” I say, but her shoulders drop at the sound of it. “K.” The nickname softens her, a little. “Please don’t think I don’t want to be near you. It’s just… it’s been a long ten days. Empaths struggle in new places, with changes and, clearly, they struggle being away from their b—”
I can’t say it.
The ache sharpens, becoming a tight, painful throb in my chest. My lungs constrict, my ribs groan, my spine burns. If this was how I felt barely saying the word...
How must they feel?
No.No.
I’m not doing this. Not again.
Why am I even thinking this? Why should I care? They didn’t care about me when they did those awful things. When they threatened me and my family, multiple times. When they lied to me, kept things hidden.
But that’s the funny thing about feelings: you can’t make yourself feel what you want. You can’t control how you react to something, even if you fool yourself into thinking you can. That’s the hard truth.
Even as an empath, I can’t hide from my own emotions. That’s the worst part, because half the time I don’t even know what I’m feeling. And when I do search deep, deep down to try and find a word that fits, I still come up empty.
Empty.
That’s the feeling.
That’s something else I’ve learnt over these ten days. Feeling too much is terrifying, but feeling nothing? Feeling empty? That’s the scariest thing of all.
Kacey doesn’t say a word while I churn over these thoughts. She just stares, hopeful eyes wide as she lifts her tiny tin tray higher, a silent offering wrapped in a soft plea.
I could tap into her emotions, find out how she really feels, but I won’t. I’m terrified of breaking the emptiness within, of what comes after.
“I’ll eat some.”
She clearly thinks I said something else, her tray lowering, eyes glistening with confusion. But then something clicks, and a slow smile begins to bloom.
She turns away, and I think she says something, but I’m barely awake. Barely present as I follow her into the kitchen, still in the long t-shirt I borrowed from her. I can’t remember if I’ve worn anything else, can’t remember the last time I washed my hair... or saw my reflection.
As Kacey slices pieces of lemon cake onto plates, I drag myself into the large living space and slump onto the sofa.
Her apartment is beautifully furnished, all sleek monochrome tones I hadn’t really noticed before. But the one thing that catches my attention is the view. A large bay window takes up the wall in front of me, leading onto a small balcony overlooking the district, even the Council building, though I try not to look in that direction.
We never talked about the apartment, but from first glance it was clear the extravagance of this place didn’t match someone who healed animals for a living. I was also certain we were on the top floor, though I’d never even ventured into the hallway. I figured pretty quickly that someone must have given this place to her.
Theyprobably had.
“...and it looks like he’s even learnt how to feed the phoenixes, which is really tricky. I’m wondering if he looked it up or something…”
Kacey keeps talking, and I keep drifting, catching a few lines at a time, which is just enough to know what she’s talking about.
After the first night, when we both passed out on the sofa from exhaustion, she woke up in a panic about her animals and who was taking care of them.
