I stand there, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I’m not sure I want to start fresh somewhere new. I’m not sure I have it in me, to be honest.
But I’m also not sure I can survive Anton Stepanov.
Which is how I end up standing in front of Chris’s door, one twenty-minute cab ride later.
“Hey,” he says, pulling on a sweatshirt as he opens the door. “Come on in.”
I shake my head. “I’m not staying. I just came for the phone.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’re giving it back?”
“Yes.”
He disappears immediately and returns a minute later with the phone in hand. “For the record, I think you’re doing the right thing. How are you going to return it?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle that part.”
“Jessa—”
“Chris, I can take care of myself, okay?” He looks skeptical. That only makes me dig my heels in. “Can you please just trust me?”
“I do trust you,” he insists. “I just don’t trust that shady motherfucker.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
Chris frowns. “You’re confident about that?”
“Yes.”
He looks like he wants to ask a follow-up question, but he decides against it. “Alright. Well… good luck, J. Love you.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
His face shifts with some unreadable expression. Maybe Freya was right. Maybe Chris has feelings for me. But I don’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with that possibility right now.
“I’ll let you know when I get it off my hands.”
Chris nods and then lets out a sharp sigh. “I don’t like you doing this alone.”
“I’ve been doing it alone this whole time,” I say without thinking.
His eyes narrow. “I’ve been with you the whole time, Jessa. I picked you up in the middle of the night and held onto this phone for you even when I thought it was a bad idea. I’ve been right here every step of the damn way.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
The disappointment doesn’t leave his face. “Let me know when it’s gone.”
“Chris—”
He pauses at the threshold. I search my brain for something to say that will restore our relationship back to how it used to be. Easy and simple.
“You’re my best friend, Chris.”
They’re not magic words, but they draw a smile out of him at least. “Don’t you forget it.”
Feeling buoyed by Freya’s and Chris’s support, I head back to my apartment, confident I’m doing the right thing.
Then I open my front door—and stop cold when I see Anton sitting in the chair by the window.
“Hello, Jessa,” he says.
And suddenly, I’m not sure of anything at all.