The aisle smelled vaguely of cinnamon, peppermint, and some other Christmas nonsense that didn't belong in tea. I stood there glaring at the two boxes in my hands as I tried to decide which one I'd hate less. My usual was out – because of course it was – and Christmas being a week away meant the shelves were crammed with limited-edition flavours that all sounded like war crimes.
"Mulled wine toasted marshmallow," I read under my breath. "What the hell is that even supposed to taste like?"
"Sounds interesting."
I jumped slightly and shot Eli a look over my shoulder. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
He grinned. "I've watched you debate those two boxes for a solid five minutes. You're acting like it's a major life decision."
"It is." I held both boxes out. "It's either something that smells like a Yankee candle or something I can't even identify."
"Mm. Tough call. You know you're going to hate both."
"Yes, thank you, I'm aware." With as much dramatised suffering as I could channel, I chucked one of the boxes at his chest. He fumbled and barely caught it while clearly trying not to laugh at my predicament. "Just put that one in the basket."
"You sure?"
"No. But I'm picking the one that smells the least like emotional damage."
He snickered and dropped it in the basket without argument. "Progress."
I let the smallest smile pull at the corner of my mouth as we headed for the front.
Once we'd finished the shopping, we stepped out into the cold, our breath fogging the air as we turned toward the flat. Without thinking, our hands found each other. Neither of ussaid anything about it. We hadn't needed to for a while. It was just the natural thing to do now.
The street was quiet, lit by pale winter sunlight and an overload of colourful decorations and lights. I kept an eye on our surroundings, as usual, but it wasn't the same hyper-awareness it used to be.
It had been a few weeks since the last time we heard from Marcus. No texts. No calls. No pounding at the door. Part of me still expected him to resurface somewhere, but a bigger part hoped he'd finally gotten the message. Now that someone had stood up to him – and, honestly, straight-up embarrassed him – maybe he'd finally decided his game wasn't worth playing anymore.
I hadn't let my guard down completely, but things were finally looking up for me. Even my therapist agreed. She'd cleared me last week to return to work when the next term started, said the difference in my mental health was night and day from when I first walked in her office. I'd be back in the classroom after the new year. Back to something normal.
The thought was just as encouraging as it was surreal. I couldn't even leave the flat a month ago, and now I –
"Shit." I suddenly stopped in my tracks. "What time is it?"
Eli pulled out his phone. "Little after two. Why?"
"Damn it, I forgot. I was supposed to drop off the term outlines at the school before they close up for Christmas."
"Do you have them on you?"
I shook my head. "They're at the flat. I meant to do it this morning and totally spaced."
He chuckled. "Alright, let's move."
We didn’t waste time. As soon as we got home, I dropped the shopping just inside the door and headed straight for the bedroom without bothering to stop or take off my coat.
I found the folder right where I left it on the mattress,stacked neatly with the extra copies I'd printed and some last-minute notes I'd scribbled down. I checked it all over just to make sure I hadn't missed anything, then grabbed a few more folders to drop off in my classroom. I stuffed it all in my bag and turned to head back out.
Eli was waiting by the door with his coat still on. "You ready?"
I frowned. "You don't have to come with me. It's just a drop-off."
He didn't say anything, but the look on his face said enough. He clearly wanted to argue but didn't know how to bring it up. I knew right away what he was worried about.
"I'll be alright," I said quietly. "It's not even a ten-minute walk. I'll be back within the hour."
His jaw tightened. "Yeah, but – "
