She was always so kind.
Even back then, she had a good heart.
I step inside the room, but I can already tell she isn’t here. She was here recently: probably within the last ten minutes, judging by her scent.
“Nicole?” I call her name anyway. Just in case. Just in case someone, I’m completely screwing this up. Maybe she stepped outside and she’ll be back soon. Maybe she went to help Henrietta with something. I’m not sure. She’s not here now, though, and I take the moment to walk around her bedroom and look at what her living situation is like.
I walk further into the room, but I can basically see the entire thing. There’s a small bed, a desk, a chair, and an adjoining bathroom. The door is open. I can see that she isn’t there, but I step inside anyway. It’s pristine. Everything is neatly organized and arranged just so. There’s also almost nothing here: no makeup, no blow drier. There’s no curling iron. There’s a hair brush, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap. That’s it.
That’s it?
That’s all she has?
Back in her room, I open the door to her closet. Like the bathroom, it’s essentially empty. There’s a backpack on the floor and a pair of shoes. There are a couple of shirts hanging, as in, there are literally two shirts.
How the fuck does she live like this?
“Where’s all your stuff?” I murmur, looking around. Back when we were dating, she loved hoarding little toys and trinkets. She was so lighthearted. Our home was always a haven. It was perfectly decorated in lovely ways.
This, though?
This isn’t the Nicole I remember.
“What happened to you?” I whisper.
“Life happened,” she says from the doorway, and I look over and see her standing in the doorway. Her eyes are swollen and tears are streaming down her face. She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. I don’t scent any fear or anger coming from her: there’s only sadness and heartbreak.
“Are you okay?” I ask, crossing the room to her. I don’t touch her. I just look at her.
She doesn’t speak.
She just closes her eyes.
“Nicole,” I whisper, more quietly this time. I need to know. I need to hear her say the words. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she whispers. “I’m not okay, Lee.”
“Come in the room.”
She listens and walks past me. She sits down on her bed.
“You’ve been through a lot today.”
“That’s an understatement,” she says. She doesn’t look up. She just stares at her hands.
“What happened?” I whisper. I already sort of know, but I need more. I need her to tell me. I need to hear it. I need confirmation that she’s okay. I just...I need normal Nicole back. Right now she’s sort of a shadow of who she usually is. She’s sad and maybe scared and possibly even overwhelmed.
I just need to hear that she’s okay.
“You left. He came in. There’s not really anything else.”
“You were very brave,” I tell her.
Her gaze shoots up and meets my eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“What?”