TRASH BAGS
I grab the pen, tearing off the grocery list and shoving it in my hoodie pocket before writing out a quick note.
Hi!!!
Went to get breakfast!
Be back soon!
- K
Then I scrawl a crappy attempt at a heart next to my name.
It’s not a love letter, but at least she’ll know I didn’t just bail. I head for the door, hesitate, and go back to the notepad.
I want to make sure she sees the note, so I tear it off the notepad and go to the bed, hesitating before propping it against the base of the lamp on the nightstand.
No way she can miss that.
I bend and plant a soft kiss on her temple, freezing when she murmurs something under her breath.
My paranoid as fuck mind hears, “Bastian.” I stamp down a swell of anger and turn on my heel, grabbing my shoes and slipping them on as I head for the door.
I have to turn around halfway because—thank fuck—my brain reminds me that my phone only has a couple of minutes of charge left, and I fetch the charger from the kitchen counter and shove that in my hoodie pocket too.
When I go to leave, an icy gust of wind ruffles my hair and flaps my oversized hoodie against my torso, nearly ripping the door out of my hand. A handful of orange leaves whip past me before I can step outside and pull the door shut.
Jesus, fuck.
The air smells sharp and clean. Like snow, even though November’s still a week off.
I check my phone. Just past eight, and four percent battery. Too early for most places, but fuck it. I’ll wait outside the jeweler’s if I have to.
I request an Uber, groaning internally when it tells me the closest is five minutes away. I huddle against the garage wall below our Airbnb to shield myself from the random gusts of icy wind as I stare at the necklace in my hand.
The cheap, broken chain. The fake blue stone.
It’s not good enough anymore.
Haven deserves the fucking best.
And when I give it back to her, she’ll know.
She’ll know I’m not the same pathetic kid that thought this was the fuckingbestsixteenth birthday presentever.
And she’ll know I’mstaying.
The Uber driver doesn’t talk. Probably because I look like shit and smell worse. No wonder he mumbles something about his USB not working when I ask him to charge my phone.
I stare out the window, watching Agony Hollow’s early morning enthusiasts. Mostly joggers. Some old dude with his dog.
Everything normal. Peaceful.
Like the world didn’t almost implode last night.
I pull out my phone to check my notifications and keep myself awake so I don’t feel so tempted to take a nap in the backseat. It’s down to two percent.
Nothing from Haven, probably because she’s still asleep. Got a VibeFeed DM from Kruger though.
