"Drink," she said. "You look like you're about to pass out."
I took the glass and drank. The water was cold, sliding down my throat, pushing down that heat.
"Where's Leo?" Ella asked.
"In his room," I said. "Should be sleeping."
"Good," Ella said. "Then you should rest too."
I shook my head.
"I can't sleep."
"Then just lie down," she said. "You need to calm down."
I stood and headed for the bedroom. My legs were still shaking, but better now.
At the door, I heard Ella behind me. "Olivia."
I turned around.
"Yeah?"
"Do you still love him?"
The question hit like a slap.
I stared at her, didn't know how to answer.
Love?
I didn't know.
Five years. I thought I'd buried all that, buried it somewhere I'd never touch again. But today, in that bathroom, when he said "I've been going crazy missing you," I felt that place shift.
"I don't know," I said, voice barely there. "Ella, I don't know."
Ella didn't say anything else, just nodded.
I turned, pushed open the bedroom door, and walked in.
The next few days, I went to class every day.
Every time I walked into that house, my heart raced. Every door in the hallway, every corner, every shaft of light through the windows, made me think of that afternoon. I'd slow down without meaning to, listening for footsteps, for voices upstairs.
He didn't appear.
Carmen still waited for me at the entrance every day, took me upstairs, poured me water, and asked if I needed anything. Juliet still ran over every day and grabbed my hand, looked up at me, calling me Vivi, chattering about what new move she learned today, what good food she ate yesterday.
Everything seemed normal.
But I could feel him there.
That sense of being watched, being waited for, being tracked from somewhere I couldn't see. The fresh flowers on the entryway table, the new humidifier in the practice room, the perfectly-temperatured tea Carmen handed me—behind all these things was someone watching, arranging, waiting for something.
He didn't appear, but he was everywhere.
Juliet got more attached to me.
