Page 49 of The Terms of Us


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Neither did I.

And that realization...

that slow, inevitable pull...

is the most troubling variable of all.

Chapter 14 - Lucy

I walk the long way home. Not because I’m trying to punish myself, but because I need the cold air. The movement. Something physical to keep me from spiralling any further.

Marriage.

He said it as if it were a business term.

I keep seeing his face when I stood up. Not angry. Not shocked. Just… still. Like he’d miscalculated, and the idea bothered him more than the rejection itself.

That should make me feel powerful, but it doesn’t.

By the time I unlock the apartment door, my feet ache, and my lungs feel too tight, like I’ve been holding my breath for hours without realizing it.

The lights are low. The TV murmurs in the living room.

Mom is asleep on the couch, propped up with pillows, her chest rising and falling slowly. There’s a blanket tucked carefully around her. Her face is pale, relaxed only because the medication has pulled her under.

I toe off my shoes quietly and hang my coat, my movements instinctively careful, like loudness itself could hurt her.

Emily looks up from the worn-in oversized armchair the second I step into the room.

She knows.

She always does.

“Hey,” she breathes.

“Hey.”

She studies my face for half a second, then stands and motions to the chair behind her. “Sit.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

She raises one brow. “Lucy.”

I sigh and drop onto the armchair, studying Mom, curling in on myself like I did when I was a kid. Like being smaller might make everything feel less heavy.

Emily disappears into the kitchen.

I hear a cabinet open. Then another. A pause.

She comes back holding a bottle of red wine and two oversized coffee mugs.

I blink. “What’s that?”

“A gift,” she says, already twisting the cap free. “From a fellow student, I helped study to pass an exam. I was saving it for a celebration.”

She pours, hands me a mug, then shoots me a look and then taps my side, saying, "Scoot."

Em settles beside me, pulling a blanket over both of us like a practised gesture. It reminds me of when we were little.