“Did they already know?” she asks, curiosity in her voice.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.
“Before I even did. They were already placing bets on how long I’d last away from you.”
Cecilia laughs too, but then her smile falters. She looks away for a moment.
“Your family is incredible,” she says softly. “I know I rarely talk about my parents—beyond the past, I mean—but I’ll tell you everything eventually. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
I lift her face gently, my thumb brushing along her cheekbone, chasing away the sadness before it has time to settle.
“No secrets,” I say. “But everything in your own time.”
I kiss her then, taking my time. Her lips, her eyelids, her temple. I stand, lifting her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her toward the bedroom, already thinking about the nights ahead… of her falling asleep in my arms, with nowhere else either of us needs to be.
Colin
The alarm goes off at four thirty, and I shut it down.
I sit on the edge of the bed and drag a hand over my face. On my therapist’s advice, I’ve started exercising again. I used to work out at Montgomery Clifford—before it became obvious that was no longer an option. There’s a gym in this building, but I chose running instead.
It’s better than being trapped indoors with my thoughts.
Yesterday, I couldn’t get out of bed. It marked one year since the day I came back from San Jose and learned that Ceci knew everything.
Every single thing I did.
Aside from taking Alicia to and from school, then dropping her off at Felicity and Oliver’s for a sleepover with Hazel and the other kids, I spent the entire day inside these walls.
If I don’t leave today, if I don’t run, I’ll fail the routine I’m trying to build.
Exhaling and force myself up, moving toward the closet. I change, grab my water bottle, take the elevator down, and the second my shoes hit the pavement, I start running.
I don’t play music. I want to hear everything around me.
My chest starts burning by the first block. My legs protest like they’ve been betrayed in their sleep. The freezing wind hits my lungs. I’ve been running the same streets for three weeks now. It helps to have something to focus on. A routine besides waking up alone and not hearing Alicia’s voice telling me to hurry even though we’re on time.
From the outside, it probably looks like self-care. From the inside, it feels less like healing and more like punishment.
Four miles. Out. Back.
At first, I could barely make it through two. Now I finish all four. And keep running. I take the last corner with my chest on fire, sweat drenching my back and pasting the shirt to my body.
I ease into a walk. A few dragging steps, then I stop in front of the building, hands braced on my knees, breath tearing in and out of my lungs in short, harsh bursts. I twist the cap off the bottle with trembling fingers.
The water hits too cold and fast. I swallow in long pulls.
I push the door open, pass the doorman with a brief nod, and step into the wide, empty lobby.
I’ve barely pressed the elevator button when I hear another one opening across the hall.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up. It isn’t fear. It’s a tension that doesn’t come from thought, but from something much deeper than reason.
I turn my head. And everything inside me... stops. My lungs tighten, making it harder to breathe. My heart, already pounding from the run, now stumbles for an entirely different reason.
Because there are absences that leave scars in places they no longer exist. And things you feel even before you can see them happen. And when the doors finish sliding open... I stand there. Water bottle in my hand. Chest rising and falling too fast.
One of my worst nightmares playing in front of me like a horror movie.
