And as I suspected, the box is full of chocolates, little fancy ones that are all different shapes but have swirls and dots, nuts and tiny flowers. They look like they were individually made by a monk in the highest tower on the tallest mountain or something.
The paperbacks are a bunch of standalones, but I only recognize one from TikTok. Something about a girl dating a guy, but his twin is somehow involved. Looks interesting. The other two are a vibe all of their own, with naked man chests. One has a mask and the other, I suspect, is cowboy-related.
I snicker at the idea of Hudson standing in a bookstore, picking these for me to read. Ha. I wonder if he needed help or just picked whatever looked good.
And now for the letter. The last one was like a knife to the traumatic backstory. I really hope this one is better and less stabby.
Kitten,
Seeing you today was the highlight of my day. I’m sure that you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay. I completely understand. I just want you to know that I’m still here. We are all still here. Whenever you are ready.
Even if all you want to do is tell us to fuck off.
We aren’t going anywhere.
Hudson.
Also, did you know that it has been 31 days since we met? It’s our one-month anniversary. I hope you enjoy the flowers.
One month? Really? Has it only been that long? I start to do the mental math, but then a thought comes slamming into my brain and my stomach lurches.
I forgot Oakley and my’s friendaversary. Fuck.
Okay, no, this is fine. I’ll order her a gift online and then give it to her when it arrives.
Crisis averted, I turn and fall until my butt plonks onto the bed, the chocolates jostling in their little paper cups at the jolt they receive.
One month.
One whole month since they changed the trajectory of my life. I mean, I was never going to allow anything to get in the way of me walking across a graduation stage, but I’m sure at some point that a job really would have been required, which would have only been a distraction from school, potentially even delaying my graduation date.
But thanks to that one night—hell, that entire weekend—I won’t have to work. I won’t have to wonder how I’m going to buy new clothes. Not that they have let me spend any of my money on clothes or anything like that.
One whole fucking month.
I vaguely remember there being some rule of thumb or whatever about how long it takes to get over a breakup, like half the time of when you were together. Something like that. Okay, so, if I’m remembering that correctly, that means it should take less than two weeks for this empty-hearted feeling that I’ve been carrying around to go away.
And, well, that was two Fridays ago. So, if two weeks is this Friday, then maybe Wednesday next week? Two more days of feeling like trash, and then I should be back to my usual happy self.
Well, less angsty than this version of me, anyway.
Okay, cool.
A few more days.
But I’m not waiting that long to reclaim my space outside of this bedroom. I miss my trashy reality TV, and as much as all thereading options I have now are amazing, I read way too much for school already. I just want to watch a rom-com on the TV.
Xavier will have to take it or leave it.
Chapter 38
Emery
“Urgh.” I drop my head onto my open textbook. “I think my brain is fried.”
While my room is empty, my virtual room is filled with over fifty people right now. The gifts have been flowing in for the last hour, just like the day before, but I’m only interested in one of my viewers.
Turning my head on my textbook pillow, I watch the feed on my phone. It’s weird to see a mirror of myself, but with the chat flowing over the video feed, it is somewhat easy to ignore.
