He moved toward her. “Lucy,why?”
They’d finish this now—then he would go. She took a breath. “I didn’t want you to remember because I didn’t want my past to follow me here.” The wordcaterpillarechoed through her brain, taunting her. “Then, when we got close and you didn’t remember, it stung. I knew if you remembered, you’d only see that girl when you look at me.”
And that’s exactly what happened.
He reached for her.
She shook her head, stepping back again. “We’re done here.”
His lips pinched into a thin line. “Not like this. We’re not ending things like this.”
She leveled what she hoped was a lethal stare at him. “It’s time.”
He cursed and glanced away.
She ground her heel into the disastrous image, slammed the door to the bedroom, and stripped off her robe. A sob desperately tried to escape from the depths inside her. She swallowed it down.Caterpillar.Never,neverwould she have expected him to join the crowd of bullies who spent years tormenting her.
Tears are a luxury girls aren’t afforded.Her mother’s words echoed in her mind.
She crossed her arms over her breasts, embarrassed. Ashamed. The bathroom door stood ajar. She snatched a handful of clothes from the dresser and turned the lock behind her.
She.
Would.
Not.
Cry.
With nowhere to go, she turned on the shower, ready to wash away Will’s scent. Wash away her pain. Wash away the world.
“Luce?” he called through the thin door.
She refused to answer him.
A firm knock against the door.
No.
She gripped her fingers tight to keep her hands from shaking.
The shower warmed, and she climbed in, raising her face into the stream. It dissolved any semblance of armor remaining. Like cotton candy dropped in a lake, the dam around her emotions disintegrated and every unshed tear she’d ever held inside released.
She stood there, unmoving, until the hot water ran out and a cold, angry stream spiked against her skin. She didn’t turn it off. The freezing water rinsed away her warm tears.
Then nothing.
She finally shut off the water, wrapped a towel around herself, and cracked the door.
He was gone.
She took her time, rubbing a towel against her chilled skin, combing her frozen hair.
They were done. It was time to leave Confluence. She couldn’t stay. Not anymore.
Stupid, fat caterpillar…
She firmed her resolve, held the pieces together, and stepped from the bathroom. The apartment was quiet.
