Page 181 of Howlin’ For You

Replay our first date through the second.

Replay the first kiss through the third.

Replay the first time we made love through the fourth and final.

I don’t think I’ve missed Seattle at all. Especially not as I finally get out of gridlock traffic and pull into the parking lot of the apartment building and into my designated spot.

It doesn’t even feel like mine. I wouldn’t even care if someone used it while I was gone.

I step out of my car, grab my bag, and make my way to the elevator and up to the apartment.

It’s a basic place. Nicer than it should be, but that’s the tradeoff for having to suffer through four roommates.

I unlock the door, and the unfamiliarity of it hits like a ton of bricks. This isn’t home. This was never home.

Seeing as it’s the middle of the day on Saturday, I’m not surprised no one is home. And I’m thankful for it. Not that I really even know any of them, but I’m glad I don’t have to make awkward small talk when all I want to do is leave.

The modernity of the apartment makes it too cold. Too devoid of emotion. I make my way through the blank white walls to my room. The only place with any real character. All my tchotchkes and knick-knacks line the shelves and desk, bringing a warmth to the space that it desperately needs.

I trail my fingers along my snow globe collection, my framed photos, my small stuffed animals that I refuse to admit exist.

The image of these in Nick’s house comes unbidden. The snow globes would go on the mantle above the fireplace and in the guest bedroom. My photos would line the walls, and the stuffed animals would hide in our bedroom.

Our bedroom.

I plop onto the bed, heart aching in my chest. I need to put Nick away for a moment and figure out what’s best for me.

I’m not going to do that if I fixate.

My phone buzzes and I wince, hoping it isn’t anyone from Lunamois. Surprisingly, it’s my mother.

“Are you back in town yet?” she asks as soon as I pick up. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I miss you’. But I didn’t expect much else from her.

“Just got back, actually,” I reply, the words hollow.

I can hear her flipping through a magazine or book. “Come to lunch tomorrow. It’s been far too long.”

Maybe it’ll be good for me.

“Okay, Mom.”

We hang up not too long after, and I gaze around my room.

I don’t want to be here, but for now? I need to be.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

NICK

Ihaven’t slept all night.

I haven’t eaten since I last saw her.

I have done nothing but move around my house, looking at all the things she bought, and force myself not to run to Izzy and beg her forgiveness.

She didn’t yell at me. She didn’t scream. I’d almost prefer if she did. I want her to yell at me, scream at me, and hit me. She could do anything she wanted, because she’d be here.

The silence is deafening. It allows for my own thoughts to fill in the blanks.