Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
My mind was thinking more than simply having a key to my place. Her lease was up in two months. I already started planning how to ask her to move in.
Lamonte clapped me on the shoulder as we stepped back outside. “You coming over Friday?”
“Char says I don’t have a choice. Nita isn’t to be denied according to my girl.”
He grinned. “Smart woman.”
“She’s trouble,” I shared with ease.
“She is,” he agreed. “The good kind.”
We finished our preliminary scene notes and headed out. I checked my phone on the way to the car. No missed calls. No texts. Char knew I would be late. Still though, she usually checked in. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. Sometimes her period left her tired and she would sleep after work or classes.
That night, traffic crawled and my patience wore thin. I replayed the scene in my head, already outlining next steps, when my phone buzzed.
Char: I’m at your place. Hope that’s okay.
I smiled despite the exhaustion settling into my bones.
Always, I typed back thinking to myself that’s what I gave you the key for.
The lights were on when I pulled into the lot. Her car sat in my usual spot, crooked like she’d been in a hurry. I clocked it automatically. Filed it away.
Inside, the apartment felt off. Not wrong. Just quiet in a way it usually wasn’t when she was there.
She was sitting on the couch, hands folded in her lap. Not curled up. Not relaxed. She stood when she saw me, too quickly, like she’d been waiting for a cue.
“Hey,” I greeted, dropping my keys. “You okay?”
She nodded. Didn’t smile. That was the second thing I filed away.
“I made tea,” she stated. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. My house is your house.” I replied slowly. “Thanks for having it ready for me.”
I set my gun and badge on the counter like always. Took off my jacket. Watched her from the corner of my eye. Everything about her was contained. Like she had packed herself into a smaller version of who she had been this morning.
“Char,” I said gently. “What’s going on?”
She inhaled. Exhaled. Looked at the floor. “I can’t do this anymore.”
The words landed wrong. Too practiced. Too flat. “Do what,” I asked completely taken off guard.
“This,” she shared coldly, gesturing between us. “Us.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline that didn’t come. “Did I miss something?” I asked. “Because we were fine. We’re good.”
She shook her head. “You’re good. I’m not.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
She flinched. Not at my tone—at the fact that I wasn’t letting it slide.
“I thought I was ready,” she stammered. “I wanted to be. But I’m not.”
My chest tightened. “Ready for what?”
She looked at me then, eyes shiny but resolute. “For this kind of life. For stability. For you.”
That one hurt.
“I haven’t pushed you,” I stated quietly.
“I know. That’s the problem.”
I took a step toward her. She stepped back. That was the moment something cold settled in my gut. “Talk to me,” I begged. “Please.”
She swallowed. “I feel like I’m pretending. Like I’m playing house in someone else’s life.”
“That’s not,” I began and she cut me off.
“I don’t wake up scared anymore,” she said, voice breaking. “And that should be good. But it makes me feel guilty. Like I’m betraying something I haven’t finished paying for.”
I understood trauma. I understood guilt. I didn’t understand why she was doing this alone.
“We can slow down,” I offered. “We don’t have to change anything.”
She shook her head again. “If I stay, I’ll keep leaning on you. And I need to stand on my own.”
“That doesn’t mean you leave.”
“For me, it does.”
I searched her face for hesitation. For doubt. Found none. “You’re walking away,” I stated blankly. I studied her for a beat more. Her eyes were void. “You have thought this through? You mean it?”
“Yes.”
The word echoed.
I could’ve argued. Could’ve told her about the ring I hadn’t bought yet. The future I’d been quietly building room for. I could’ve fought. Instead, I saw the tightness in her shoulders. The way her hands trembled despite her calm voice. This wasn’t about me.
Not entirely.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Her breath hitched.
“I won’t stop you,” I continued. “But I don’t believe this is out of nowhere.”
She closed her eyes.
“There’s more to whatever is going on in your head,” I stated firmly.
She didn’t answer.
I stepped aside, giving her space. “Take what you need.”
She gathered her things quickly while inside I silently shattered. She was efficient. Like she couldn’t afford to linger. At the door, she hesitated.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered but never wavered.
“So am I,” I replied the truth.
She left.
I stood there long after the door shut, listening to the quiet settle in. Everything about her had been off. And I wasn’t the kind of man who ignored evidence. Whatever had sent her running—it wasn’t done with us.