He went silent again, then finally said, "Alright. I'm not going to push you on this. Just... Let me know when you're ready to come back. And... Good luck with whatever you're dealing with."
"Thanks. I'll be in touch."
I sighed in relief after the call disconnected. Thank God he backed off.
I tucked my phone away with a strange mix of relief and anxiety. I'd just turned down a major opportunity, and I had no idea what it would mean for my career. But right now, nothing mattered except getting back to Rowan.
The past week had been hell for me. I tried to throw myself into work while I waited for Mrs Cavanagh to call me,but I just couldn't do it. Every time I looked through the camera lens, my thoughts wandered to Rowan. Every time I tried to edit a photo, I remembered the way he curled in on himself in that trauma room. The defeated desperation in his voice when he told me to leave.
I'd had to remind myself a few more times that his head wasn't clear. The concussion twisted everything I said in his mind, and he thought I blamed him for what happened. He thought I saw him as weak for not being able to stop what someone else did to him.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
As guilty as I felt for not pushing harder when I suspected something, I didn't come back out of obligation or because I pitied him. I came back because I loved him. And deep down, maybe I'd known that for a long time.
I shoved my hands into my pockets as I started walking down the street. There was a time I swore I'd never come back to this town, but now I realised just how many memories I had here. Memories of Rowan and me finding trouble, laughing about things only the two of us found funny. As I walked, those memories flooded back – and I started to see things a little differently.
I remembered the time we'd skipped class and hidden out by an old abandoned barn outside of town, laughing like idiots as we sat in the tall grass and talked for hours. My mum hadn't been too pleased about that, but she only gave us a light warning not to do it again.
Back then, it felt like just two best friends hanging out. Now I knew it felt so easy for a different reason.
And then there was the night I went with him to the end-of-year party after his first year of teaching. He'd gotten plastered – like, slurring-his-words and couldn't-stand-up plastered – and I spent the night keeping an eye on him so he didn't do anything stupid. At one point, he'd slung his armaround my shoulders and rested his head against mine.
I didn't think anything of it back then and just thought I was playing the role of responsible friend. Now I could see it for what it really was.
How the hell had I been so blind to it all?
I kept walking as the memories washed over me, each one driving home just how long I'd loved Rowan. And now with everything that had happened, I couldn't just walk away from him. I couldn't let him slip through my fingers just because his head was messing with him.
As I reached his building, I felt a knot of nerves tighten in my stomach. I hadn't actually thought out how I'd approach him. I'd respected his space when he told me to leave, even though it felt like I was turning my back on him. But I didn't know if he'd be ready to talk to me yet. All I could do was try.
I opened the door to the entrance and nearly ran into Mrs Cavanagh on her way out. She jumped but immediately settled back down and wrapped her jacket tightly around her small frame.
"Ah, there you are," she said, a small grin tugging at her lips. "Didn't take you long to come back."
I returned the smile. "Hopped the train as soon as you called."
Her tone softened. "Good. He could use a friend right now."
My expression faltered as I glanced up the stairs. "How's he doing?"
"He's holding up, but... Well. He's got some way to go. He's not quite himself."
My chest tightened. I knew he wouldn't magically be okay a week after being nearly beaten to death, but hearing that Rowan was struggling made me wish I'd never left.
"If anyone can get through to him, it's you," she added. "You boys have always been close."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just smiled again and thanked her as she headed off down the street. I took a deep breath and headed up the stairs to the quiet first-floor hallway. When I reached his door, I hesitated. Just because he'd almost phoned didn't mean he would want to see me. I could make things worse by showing up without warning.
I forced the doubt to the back of my mind and knocked lightly. After a while, I'd heard no sound from inside, so I knocked again, a little louder. I wondered briefly if he was in fact sleeping, and if he was, I didn't want to bother him. But then another thought forced its way in.
What if he thought I was Marcus?
That sent a chill down my spine. This time, I knocked and leaned closer to the door, calling loud enough that he should have been able to hear me. "Rowan? It's me, Eli."
I strained to hear any movement. Again, there was initially nothing but silence. But then I heard a deadbolt slide open.
Wait a minute. Deadbolt?
