The squeak of the gurney wheels.
Shoes on tile.
Monitors chirping.
It’s like the whole world has the volume cranked to max while I’m stuck underwater.
People look at me as I pass and I feel every stare like a thumb pressed into a bruise.
The automatic doors open and the outside world sucker-punches me.Even the cool breeze burns going into my lungs.Everything feels like a threat—cars, sunlight, the damn pavement radiating heat.
Nick gets me into the passenger seat and I try to swallow the sound that escapes when I sit down.Doesn’t matter; it leaks out anyway.
My ribs are screaming.
My abdomen’s on fucking fire.
And my heart?It feels like someone scooped it out and left the hole unpatched.
The door shuts and the silence settles heavy.
Nick doesn’t try to fill it but he knows better than to try to.I mean, there’s nothing to say.
Words can’t fix this.
They can’t rewind time.
They sure as hell can’t bring Jake back.
Town passes by the window in smears of color.It’s familiar, but somehow so fucking wrong now.It’s like I’m watching someone else’s life from behind glass while mine stalls out on the shoulder.
We approach the street the lake house is on and it sparks that old rage—black, fast, corrosive.All the years spent living with lies dressed up as love.I thought I was protecting the only person I trusted.
Turns out I was protecting a stranger.
“I’m not staying there,” I mutter.
“I figured,” Nick says quietly.“Jay’s expecting you.”
Right on cue, my phone buzzes.
Mom
Please come home.We need to talk.
Delete.
Nick pulls upoutside Jay’s place and a part of me should feel grateful, but all I feel is dread twisting low in my stomach.
“You know you can always stay with me,” Nick murmurs.
I shake my head.“I’m good.”
We both know I’m anything but.
The elevator ride is a blur of white paint and static humming.I lean on the rail.
Breathing hurts.
