A jolt shoots through me. His grip isn’t harsh, but it’s firm—possessive.
I feel the heat of his body far too close, his breath near my temple.
He leans in, lips barely grazing my hair as he speaks—low, warm, dangerously steady.
“We need to talk, Della.”
I exhale, shaking slightly but holding myself together.
“Past tense, Dorian,” I say, my voice cutting like ice. I turn to face him, pulling my hand free—forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “We needed to talk five years ago. There’s nothing left now.”
I don’t look back.
I walk straight out of the lobby, ignoring the burn of his stare still heavy on my skin.
* * *
Outside, the cool evening air bites at my cheeks. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my heart, then flag down a cab.
My pulse stumbles for a split second—an old, buried reflex.
Taxi rides still make my stomach twist. A fear tucked away in the corners of my mind, too stubborn to fully let go.
But now, I don’t have the luxury of letting it win.
“Union Station,” I tell the driver, keeping my voice steady, even as my hands curl tightly around my purse.
The ride feels longer than it should, every turn of the wheels dragging memories I refuse to let surface.
But I keep my gaze locked on the glowing lights outside the window, counting streets, counting breaths.
Just a cab ride. Just a city.
Nothing more.
* * *
I board the Metra train heading north toward the suburbs.
The same line I used to take back then. Same route. Same stops. Same soft rhythm of the tracks beneath me.
Everything feels too familiar… yet painfully distant.
I sit by the window, clutching my bag tighter than necessary, watching the city fade into quieter streets and tree-lined avenues.
And for the first time today, when no one is watching—
A tear slips down my cheek.
Quick. Silent.
I wipe it away before it has the chance to fall fully, forcing myself to breathe.
“You’ve survived worse, Della. You won’t fall apart now. Not here. Not for him.” I whisper to myself.
When the train reaches Willow Creek, I step out—heart heavy, face calm.
I walk toward the neighborhood I know by heart. The sidewalks are lined with flowers; that soft lake breeze in the air. Familiar houses glow softly in the twilight, kids playing in driveways, laughter echoing in the distance.
