We didn’t always have this. We met in college almost ten years ago now. Before that, I never had close friends and never realized how much I needed them. The University of Portland is where Abbie found me—pen behind her ear, talking a mile a minute, pulling me into every study group. Turned out she grew up a couple of towns over from Willowrun.
Then Ciarán came along. He’d trained as a dancer before switching to English lit, and you could tell. Movement was part of him. He’s not from around here, but when we all graduated,he moved here, saying, “We need to stick together.”And I’m thankful for that.
And me—I was the one hiding behind my stack of books. But they wouldn’t let me stay hidden. They kept me, sat with me, argued with me, laughed with me.
Different personalities, different worlds, but somehow we fit.
They loved me before Kyle.
They loved me through him.
And after.
We stay like that for a while. My breathing regulates. My chest loosens. The nightmare doesn’t feel quite so close when I’m between them like this.
Abbie shifts first, wriggling until she steals more of the blanket. Her shoulders tremble with silent laughter. I groan and tug it back, which only makes her cling harder. Then we’re in a playful tug-of-war over it.
“You two are insufferable,” Ciarán mutters, but I hear the smile in his voice. “Honestly. I come here out of the goodness of my heart, and this is what I get? Elbowed by blanket thieves.”
“The goodness of your heart? You thought there’d be pancakes, and you’re like a stray cat.” Abbie fires back.
“I’m a growing boy,” he says primly, patting his taut stomach.
I let out a soft laugh. Abbie tilts her chin to look at me. “Better?”
I nod. My throat still feels thick, but I manage, “Yeah. Better. Sorry about breakfast.”
“Don’t worry about that. This is perfect,” Ciarán murmurs, almost to himself.
The lump in my throat swells. I exhale a rough, “Yeah. It is.”
“Noah is going to move in,” I tell them. They both nod, matching looks of concern mixed with pride.
We don’t say anything more about it. We all know it’s a big deal, me letting someone into my safe space.
Eventually, Abbie pushes herself up with a stretch, cardigan slipping off her shoulder. “All right. Enough wallowing. Time to get vertical.”
“Yes, Ms. Dawson,” I mutter, causing her to grin. I let her tug me upright. My body feels stiff.
Ciarán follows, rolling artfully off the bed. “Come on, Gabey. If you’re going to have a breakdown, at least do it in a freshly aired-out apartment.”
I make a face at him, but the corner of my mouth twitches. “You opened all the windows, didn’t you?”
“Obviously.” He flicks imaginary dust from his shirt. “I think you try to kill the plants on purpose. They need air… and water, if you weren’t aware.”
Abbie squeezes my hand gently before letting go. “We’ll give you space. But maybe… do one small thing today. Just one. It’ll help.”
“And eat. Actual food. Not just tea,” Ciarán sasses.
I walk them to the front door. Abbie blows me a kiss on her way out, murmuring, “Text us.”
When the door shuts, I stand in the hall, staring at the spare room door. My mind is worn down, but their warmth lingers on my skin, enough to propel me forward.
The room is tidy enough already, but not for someone new. I strip the bed and get fresh sheets. I smooth them flat, tugging the corners tight. I clear the desk of the stray books I’ve been meaning to put away and clean the nonexistent dust from the surface.
I linger at the shelves in the room. My fingers trail over the spines. It’s been years, but I remember which ones Noah used to ask about. He’d sit at the kitchen table while I read, eyes bright, waiting for me to pause so he could ask what it was about. Aiden never cared, he wasn’t big into reading, but Noah always asked. Every birthday, I’d wrap one for him, hand it to him with ascribbled note inside:Thought you’d like this one.He’d always beam at me; the memory makes me smile into the room. He was so happy to get a book from me, such a simple gift.
I missed his birthday last month, and I thought about it for days. I felt awful. It’s not the same as a gift, but I pull one down now, a fantasy paperback I think he might like, and set it on the nightstand.
