MILES
THE SOUND OF a car horn blasting outsidemade me jolt awake, sitting up suddenly before my brain had switched all theway on. Through the gap in the curtains, I could see that the sun had well andtruly risen.
The clock beside my bed toldme it was ten minutes to seven, which was around the time I normally got up,anyway. I didn’teven really need to set an alarm anymore, though I always did. My brain woke mearound the right time every morning, the car outside had just helped it along.
Gray.
Gray had stayed the night. Iremembered waking earlier—though I had no idea howmuchearlier—andtalking quietly to him. He’d gotten up to pee.
I sat still for a moment,listening for any sign of him—maybe he was taking a shower, or makingbreakfast?
Nothing. As far as I couldtell, the apartment was empty except for me.
I listened for anotherminute or so, hoping I’d hear something, and then reached out to Gray’sside of the bed to find it cold.
He was gone. He’d been gone fora while.
My stomach sank.
I’d known,knownwhen I gave inthat I was making a mistake. Gray had seen how needy and desperate to be lovedand wanted I was under all the layers of armor I kept between my heart andanyone who might hurt it, and it’d been too much for him.
It was always too much.Iwas always too much.
Too needy. Too fragile. Notworth the trouble of putting up with my clinginess and uncertainty.
Tears stung at my eyes andmy breath caught in my throat. Gray was gone. Getting up to pee had been anexcuse—an excuse he’d taken to leave quietly.
He was tired of me. Tootired to even do hisjob.
I wanted him here, and itwas only partly because of how I felt about him. The only reason I’d been able tostay in my own apartment last night, after everything, was that Gray was herewith me.
Alone, I was alreadystarting to feel fear creeping in at the corners of my mind. Fear of what mighthappen, fear of yet another invasion of my space.
Sniffing, I wiped at my eyesand forced myself to swallow down a sob. I wasn’t going to cry over this.
Instead, I was going tostrap all the armor I’d let Gray peel away back on, and get on with mylife.
It was fine. If Gray didn’t want to behere for me, I didn’t need him.
No matter how much I feltlike Ididneed him. My life had been fine two weeks ago, and it’d be fine twoweeks from now.
I didn’tneedanyone.
I’d been just fine by myselffor a long, long time.
With a surge ofdetermination not to let this get to me, I pushed the covers aside and got outof bed, barely noticing the cold floor. Or the absence of Gray’s jacket tossedover the accent chair in the corner, where he’d thrown it last night.
He was just a hookup. Ahookup I’dhired to do a job that he nowwasn’t doing, after all his talk aboutwanting a career and caring so much about that.
Which was fine. I’d known for along time that I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself.
My stomach was too tight to evenconsider breakfast, but I couldn’t handle the thought of facing the world withouttaking a shower first. Not least of all because I knew my eyes were red, and Icould still smell the faintest trace of Gray’s aftershave on my skin.
Neither of those were thingsI wanted to be true when I got to work.
Decision made, I headed forthe bathroom and stepped under the spray of the shower the moment I’d turned it on,sighing with relief as it warmed up just a few degrees while I was standingunder it.
Water washed everythingaway. A hot shower had been my sanctuary for a long time, and there was stillcomfort in just standing under warm, running water, letting it ease the achesout of body and soul.
