Coward.
The word slips into my head before I can stop it. He couldn't even tell me himself.
Just three weeks ago...
No.
I shove the thought away.
Don't think about Arizona.
Don't think about stars.
Don't think about him whispering that he loved me.
Because if I do, I won't be able to leave.
Packing is ugly.
Nothing is folded.
Nothing is organized.
Sweaters disappear into reusable grocery bags.
Shoes land in laundry baskets.
My makeup goes into a backpack beside phone chargers and granola bars.
Every drawer I empty makes the penthouse feel less like ours and more like his. Why did I think I belonged here?
I slump onto my bed, not Witt’s guest bed. The bed I haven’t slept in for almost three weeks and text my mom.
I need to talk. Are you busy?
My phone immediately sounds with her ringtone. I snatch my phone up, pacing around the room.
“Mom…”
“What’s wrong?”
The second I hear her voice, my own breaks.
"Oh, sweetheart."
I slide down the bedroom wall until I'm sitting on the floor surrounded by half-packed bags.
"I don't understand," I say with a lump in my throat.
"What happened?"
"Dara..." I wipe at my face. "She found me an apartment."
A pause.
"And?"
"Witt never told her to stop."