???
The knock on the door persisted, each one echoing into silence. But I was relentless.
With my fist clenched again, I placed another one, my knuckles burning.
No answer still.
I stepped back, arm crossing over my chest as I stared at Rowan’s apartment door. But there was nothing. No footsteps. No sound. No sign that he was even inside. Just like how there was no sign that he was receiving my calls or seeing my texts.
Kenzo exhaled behind me, shifting uncomfortably.
He said it was not a good idea to come to Rowan’s house. But I had remained obstinate despite the uncertainty regarding this visit. My apology would fix nothing. But I still wanted to try.
“Maybe he’s not home?” he offered. But I knew better. He was home alright? He was watching through the drawn curtains of his room.
I stepped closer to the door again, my fingers hovering over it. Then I let them fall to my side again.
“He’s home,” I muttered in defeat. “He’s ignoring me.”
Kenzo didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed my wrist gently and pulled me away from the door, away from my guilt. Away from something I couldn’t fix.
“We’ll come back.”
I didn’t move.
“I just wanted–” I took in a sharp breath, my nails digging into my palm. “I just wanted to apologise. It can’t fix anything, but I just needed him to know that I’m truly sorry.”
Then I chuckled, out of nowhere, a very dry and passionless one. “But I guess if I was truly sorry, the saint thing to do is to go back and tell the truth to the entire school?” I bit my lip, my toe kicking at invisible dust. “And I am not brave enough to do that.”
“It’s alright.” Kenzo’s words weren’t at all dismissive. They held regret and understanding. A quiet acceptance that I needed to hear, perhaps.
“He’ll come around,” he said, so assured.
“I doubt.” My voice drifted softly into the wind, carrying the weight of my dismay. I stared at the door for a moment longer.
Rowan wasn’t coming around. How saintly could he possibly be to come around after the wicked way I paid him back for caring about me?
It was over.
The chapter between Rowan and me had ended. We should just flip to the next page.
Or burn the damn book.
“Come,” he said, then grabbed my wrist gently, leading me to the car.
Safely inside, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the mini first aid kit he had kept there because of me. Because his best friend was a liar who didn’t know how to keep a simple promise.
I would swear that I had stopped cutting myself, yet would put a blade to my skin the second my darkness whispered.
He walked around with bandages because I was a broken girl he had to patch up every damn time.
4
ZAGHAN
God, I hoped she’d scream for me.
The air smelt like rain that made promises but never came, and the night carried the quiet echo of laughter from the little taverns tucked in the shadowed corner of downtown Glenfallow.
