He definitely doesn’t want to talk to me.
The confirmation lands with a heavy finality.
I’ve lost him.
The fear hardens into verified fact.
And it’s entirely my fault.
I stand there in the profound silence of the café, the phone dark and useless in my hand.My gaze drifts from the empty stools to where Lou sat just hours ago.
Tonight, this sanctuary feels more like a cage.
I need air.
I need to be out.
Anything other than this heavy silence and the four walls of my temporary prison.I need to move, to feel the fresh air on my face, maybe even outrun the thoughts churning inside me, if only for a little while.
I grab my purse from my office, my fingers closing around the metal of my keys.Each step toward the front door is sharp and decisive.I pull it open and step out onto the sidewalk.I pause only long enough to turn the deadbolt, then head toward my car.
Hearing the engine come to life feels oddly liberating after two nights spent locked up in my quiet café.
In seconds, I’m driving away, leaving behind a couch that was never a bed in a sanctuary that was never home.
THIRTY FIVE
I DRIVE WITH no real destination.The city lights zoom past my windows, streaks of orange and white painting the dark interior.My hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles white.My head is a deafening space.The only sound is Matthew’s voicemail, replaying on a merciless loop.
Where do you go when you have no home?
When the one place that felt like your sanctuary now feels like a prison?
The restless energy that pushed me out the door still thrums, demanding escape.
That’s when I see it.
Rising above the downtown buildings ahead.The illuminated curve of the State Capitol dome.It glows, a warm beacon in the darkness.The memory of that night surfaces with clarity:
Matthew laughing with Sal.The simple pleasure of burgers eaten on a stone bench.Our conversation about resilience.His promise of support.
Each memory is a painful contrast to the suffocating silence of my phone.
I find a parking spot on the quiet street bordering the Capitol grounds.Cutting the engine, I sit for a moment, staring at the magnificent building.Its floodlit granite seeming to hold secrets in its shadows.
My gaze travels upwards, past the soaring columns and intricate carvings, settling on the golden statue perched high atop the massive dome.She stands tall and resolute against the velvet black sky, her right arm raised high, pointing firmly forward.
Forward, Matthew had said.
Right now, all I feel is stuck.
Getting out of the car, I scan the curb where we found him before…
There it is.
The cheerful red truck.Lights still blaze from the serving window and along its roofline, casting an inviting pool of light onto the pavement.A thin plume of steam escapes its vent, carrying the rich, undeniable scent of perfectly seasoned grilled beef.
My stomach gives an answering rumble.
