I’m weary to my bones, everything aching. A deep bruise along my ribs is the sorest point. But when I press against it, nothing feels broken.
Maggie’s quiet, too. Her usual babbling and nervousnessare gone. She keeps adjusting the strap of her bag, twisting it around her fingers.
Her door looms as we come to a stop outside it.
‘So,’ I say. ‘What now?’
Maggie exhales and blinks up at me. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t really think this far through my plan. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a mess.’
I picture Eddie’s horrific grin. The bat. The knife. Eliza’s blade. Coffin’s one bright, unblinking eye.
‘A hot mess, at least.’
‘Will you go back to your online world?’ she asks.
The way she says it makes it sound like another universe.
‘I don’t have much choice,’ I admit. ‘It’s the life I built. I can’t pay bills without it.’
She nods, absorbing it. ‘Even though you don’t believe the things you say.’
The disappointment in her face guts me.
‘We can still see each other. No one would know with us living across the hall from each other.’ I hate that I even suggest it, knowing she deserves better.
‘I can’t be another one of your lies, Roman. I can’t be something you slot into the gaps between the things you show the rest of the world. The rest of my life is shrouded in secrecy; this can’t be too. I want to be loved. Properly. Regardless of what happens at my dad’s.’
The way her jaw sets tells me it’s a firm boundary, and honestly, one I know is fair. I’ve been dealing in dirty secrets for years.
I nod. Knowing she’s right. We stand there for toolong. Close enough that I can smell her shampoo, and see the bob of her throat as she swallows. I can see the way her eyes have grown moist. I fear mine have too.
Stepping closer, she pulls my face to hers, laying her lips on mine with a kiss that says all the things we can’t.
A thank you and a goodbye.
‘One for the road,’ she whispers as she pulls back, fishing two sets of keys from her bag. She hands mine over with a guilty smile and unlocks her door.
She hesitates, then steps inside.
Then the door snaps shut behind her. I want to knock. To follow her in and beg her to see what this could be.
But I know I can’t give up when she’ll just leave me in the end anyway. From her father’s pressure. Or my job. Or the realisation that I’m a waste of space.
THIRTY-FIVE
MAGGIE
A few days later,I’m rotting in my bed.
Other than going to work, I’ve done nothing since getting home.
Maybe I can just live life horizontally from here on out. Dad can’t make me kill people if I don’t leave the house. Or find some other douche for me to marry. If I don’t go outside, I won’t bump into Roman and feel that sharp ache which smarts harder than the baseball bat.
The thin walls don’t help. Even when I’m trying really bloody hard to imagine Roman doesn’t exist, I can still hear his existence. It’s like being haunted. Every scuff and cough has me freezing, listening to see if it’s him.
If it’sonlyhim.
So far at least, it’s only been him. I’ve yet to be awoken by a woman screaming his not-real-name through my wall.
