I don’t care enough to eavesdrop. Don’t care enough to wonder.
“You know Christian,” comes Gabe’s reluctant voice. “He’s not having the easiest time.”
“So, you’re not going to say anything, and he’ll come home one day and you’ll be gone?”
There’s a groan, but I barely catch it, I’m too busy stumbling for the doorway. “Gone?”
Madden and Gabe’s attention snaps toward me.
“Fuck, I didn’t hear you come in,” Gabe says.
“Gone?”
He curses under his breath, hands dragging back through his light brown hair. He’s still in his work uniform, hasn’t even made the moves to kick off his heavy work boots, and the T-shirt he’s wearing is thick with sweat and soot—it clearly hasn’t been an easy night for him. “Can you …” Gabe nods to the couch across from him.
“You’re leaving.” That much has sunk in so far. “Like … moving out, or …”
“I’msorry. I’ve tried to tell you about a million times, but things kept coming up and then I lost track of the days—you know how forgetful I am.”
“You forgot. To tell me. You’re leaving.” I’m not even sure how I feel about the words I’m saying, not even sure I understand them. They’re justthere. Something for my mouth to do while I stare at him like … like …Gabe’s leaving.
Through high school and college and five years ago when we moved into this place. He’s always been right where I needed him to be. Here.
Gabe’s expression grows tighter. “A place came up for lease around the corner from the station. I’m earning good money now and it just …” He shrugs, almost like he’s angry with himself. “I can’t keep taking the place here, for cheap, when I’ve all but given up on ever making anything from my sketches. This place was set up for struggling artists, and I’m … I’m not that anymore. Plus, with Kismet around more and more, I’m popping antihistamines like Tic Tacs. I can afford my own place now, and I think it’s time.”
But even as he begs me to understand all I hear is,I can afford my own life.It’s time to get away from you.
Like living here with us wasn’t good enough for him.
Like his promises to always be there for me were only something to say until the time came when he could get out.
I take a full step back.
“Christian …” Madden goes to stand, but I turn on my heel before he can and head right back out the door. Rain clouds have set in, lit from behind by the moon, but I jog to my car with what feels like my entire life ringing in my ears.
Gabe’s leaving. I broke things off with Émile. The show I’ve been working my ass off for is being threatened when we’re so close to making something of it. I’m in my car and driving before I’ve worked out where the hell to go. All I know is I need to move, todo, to keep running because if I stop, I’ll have to process and this is all way too much for me.
I wind up at Gas Works Park, deep ache hitting my chest as I stumble out of my car and into the street. It’s late and sprinkling rain so finding a close parking space was easy and as soon as my feet hit the path, I follow it past the rusted metal structures and to the lookout where I came that day with Émile.
It’s impossible not to think about him here. Ice cream and rail lines and flying kites on the hill away to my right. I’machingfor him. Wishing he was here and would let me explain so he could pull me in close and remind me that he can make anything better. Making things better ishisthing. Without him, I’m just blindly knocking into my problems, directionless and drowning under the weight of it all.
Another sob threatens to shiver from me but I push it down as well. My cheeks are already wet, and not from the rain, and I’m struggling to figure out how I’m supposed to go home and move on and pretend to be okay.
I never thought I deserved a whole lot in life, but I always clawed at the chance to be happy. To have people who fucking cared about me.
But my family left.
Twice.
Émile’s family never cared.
Gabe’s running away—the one person I thought would always be there.
And Émile … my heart twists painfully. We could have had something, because I believed him when he said we’d figure it out. I believed that he was starting to feel for me what I was feeling for him.
But it wasn’t enough.
I never am.