But the thought of going back after what’s happened is jarring. Returning to the same place where I collapsed and this traumatic nightmare began…
A lump forms in my throat so thick I can’t swallow, accompanied by an itchiness in my eyes. I resist both, reminding myself to breathe and hold it together.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”
Mom looks up from where she’s putting plates away in thekitchen. “You don’t have to decide, baby. You have time to make those kinds of decisions later.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” I give a shrug, moving onto a different box. “Sometimes… I wonder if maybe it’s time to go back home.”
“Home?” Mom asks. “You mean Philly, Moni?”
“Maybe. It… it makes the most sense.”
Though I don’t glance up to watch them do it, out of my periphery I’m aware Mom and Kelly exchange a look. Probably uncertain what to say or if they even should say anything at all.
Instead we fall back into awkward silence, unpacking the rest of the apartment.
Sleep refuses to come later in the night.
I roll over every few minutes trying to get comfortable but finding it difficult to even get close. Either I’m too hot and the blanket is too heavy or I need to fluff my pillow, or suddenly I’m thirsty or need to scroll through my phone.
It’s funny when I think about how I used to fall asleep so easily on this mattress. Often I’d read before bed or watch a movie, then I’d be out for hours.
That’s no longer the case as I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the city outside my window.
My mind keeps circling back to the same painful places. Jin’s cold eyes when I gave him back the ring. The silence that followed me out of our apartment. Even the way he just stood there and let me leave, as if he had also accepted we were done.
The grief is too deep and paralyzing. It would kill any relationship.
It’s no surprise Jin and I weren’t strong enough to weather it. He’s shut down, and I’ve lost all hope.
In need of fresh air, I throw off the covers and pad to the window. Though it’s still spring, the temperatures are low enough to be chilly at night.
Exactly what I need right now.
I push the window open and draw a deep, steadying breath in hopes it’ll clear my head. Help turn my brain off long enough so that I canactuallyfall asleep.
My gaze pans from the surrounding buildings and the plum sky speckled with the occasional star to the black car parked several stories below. My bedroom window looks out on the side of the building, where the dumpsters and recycling bins are and no real parking exists.
So it’s strange to see a car parked downstairs so late into the night.
Directly below my window.
I frown, leaning forward as I try to make out the shape of whoever’s inside. The windows are tinted, the interior dark, offering no real details this far up.
Whoever it is clearly knows he’s hidden.
Seconds go by where nothing happens. The car idles, and I stare down at it, brows knitted.
Then the headlights flicker, piercing the dark alleyway, and suddenly the car’s pulling away. It turns the corner and disappears down the street as if it wasn’t parked down below for who knows how long.
I stay where I am, my pulse jumping due to the uncertainty of it all.
It’s probably nothing, but after everything in recent times, I don’t know anymore. I could be paranoid or it could be some looming threat.
Just another bad thing about to happen to me.
I return to bed but don’t fall asleep. I stay awake, still tossing and turning for hours, gradually accepting this is my new reality.
