AMY
It’s been two days since I came back from the vacation, away from the world and every other person who made me feel small in some kind of way. Away from troubles and the prying eyes of Sandra.
The memory of the party still lingers in my head, my encounter with the guy from that night, the almost moment, the tension I had to push away. And yet, two days later… still nothing from Pete.
No calls. No texts. Not even a dot to let me know he was alive. I’d tried everything, visiting his clinic, calling, messaging. His receptionist finally told me he hadn’t been around in a while. No specifications. Just an empty sentence that made my stomach twist.
I couldn’t let myself spiral. I refused to let that happen. So I did what any emotionally wrecked girl trying to stay sane would do: I signed
