THEY DIDN’T COME FOR me. Not the day after I left, nor the day after that.
Which shouldn’t have surprised me, after all, men were inconsistent, fickle creatures. Weren’t they? Or was that women?
I couldn’t tell anymore.
But every day I was away from them, my heart hurt.
My throat ached.
And I wasn’t battling a cold. I was sure of it. My head thumped with a headache and I had chills while I slept.
“Good night, Nevaeh,” my supervisor called out as I headed for the exit after my shift. I was back at work, doing what I loved. So why wasn’t I happier about it?
“Night, Trish.”
It was cold and dark, and I couldn’t wait to get home.
Home.
What a strange concept now.
I’d busted my butt, and Grayson’s, to come home to an apartment I shared with a girl I barely knew. It was old, and untidy
