Chapter Twenty-Eight — “Fractures”
358 Words
The world swam when Leia opened her eyes.
Everything was wrong.
Her skin burned, but her fingers felt numb.
She shifted weakly under the blanket, heart hammering unevenly against her ribs.
Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, a voice whispered:
He’s not here.
The whisper curled around her spine like smoke.
---
She tried to sit up.
Failed.
Settled for rolling onto her side instead, dragging the blanket with her.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand — a harsh, vibrating rattle that seemed to echo inside her skull.
Leia fumbled for it with shaking fingers, finally managing to swipe the screen open.
Ryan’s name blinked at her.
Her heart squeezed tight.
---
She answered, her voice shredded into a raw whisper.
"Hey, baby."
Ryan’s voice came through the speaker, bright and breathless.
"Ma! You’re awake! Good. I just — I had to tell you — I got the job!"
Leia smiled weakly, sagging deeper into the mattress.
"That's... that’s wonderful, honey," she rasped.
Ryan plowed ahead, words tumbling over each other.
"It’s at that new place — 'The Greyhound.' It's super chill. I’m bartending a few nights a week, full-time on weekends. And, Ma — there’s this guy I work with —"
He laughed, that old boyish laugh she hadn't heard in months.
"He’s awesome. Like, hilarious. And cute as hell."
Leia’s heart twisted.
She wanted to be excited for him.
Really, she did.
But everything in her body screamed —
sick
tired
heavy.
The fever made it hard to keep up.
Hard to stay light.
Hard to say the right thing.
---
"That’s... great, sweetheart," she whispered.
Something must’ve leaked into her voice —
a hesitation, a hollowness.
Because Ryan’s tone changed instantly.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Leia blinked, disoriented.
"N-nothing, baby," she croaked. "I’m just tired. I’m proud of you."
But it was too late.
The damage was done.
Ryan’s breath hitched over the line.
"You know what?" he said, voice hardening. "Forget it. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be happy for me."
"Ryan —" Leia started, panic flaring weakly through her foggy brain.
But the call disconnected before she could finish.
- Writer
