The apartment was quiet, too quiet. I sat on the couch, knees tucked under a blanket, staring at the room that smelled like lilies and citrus. Vases of flowers lined the benchtops and shelves, cards spilling off the table, fruit baskets I'd never eat, chocolates I couldn't stomach. Get-well-soon wishes from colleagues, friends and acquaintances who'd heard about what happened through the grapevine.
None of them was from Jackson.
He had been there that first day in the hospital, silent, with guilt written all over his face. But after that, nothing. No visits. No messages. No flowers with his careful handwriting on the card. Just… nothing. Like he'd vanished from my world as completely as he'd entered it.
Aarti was curled up on the other end of the couch, her head resting in Nate's lap. T
