Chapter 28
28
Eleanor
It’s tough to pack without making noise. The ruby-and-pearl necklace replica the Wards made me take home from the escape room slips out of my hands, clanging against the hardwood.
I stand frozen.
Minutes pass, and I decide it’s safe to keep going. Most of my belongings are already packed away. It’s the little things like chargers and hair clips I might just have to lose.
With agonizing restraint, I turn the doorknob as slowly as possible, using my unending patience to battle every squeak.
I’m seconds away from being free, when Tatum appears.
“Where are you going?” she asks, startling me into opening the door all the way again. There’s a crooked eye mask on her face and a sock curler around her head.
“Home,” I whisper calmly.
“Okay,” she says, still half asleep. Then she processes the words, and she rips the mask off. “Wait.”
“I know,” I say, already sensing what she will say. “It’s for the best for everyone.”
“Carson really likes you.”
Just hearing their name makes my stomach plummet.
I don’t dare respond.
“They don’t bring anyone home ever,” she continues. “We didn’t even meet the gecko girl.”
“They didn’t bring me home either,” I remind her, schooling my voice to stay low. “ You brought me here.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do. I know I’m being difficult. I can’t let her see that it matters to me what she’s said. That I care what Carson thinks, or that I care that I could be different for them.
“It can’t work,” I say. “My life is in New York.”
“What do you like about New York?” she asks, surprising me.
My defenses rear up, as if she’s asking why the sun is hot or water is wet. “Everything.”
“Can you name five specific things you enjoy?” The rumble in her voice is starting to iron out, which isn’t a good thing. She’s getting more alert.
“Of course I can.” I lean against my luggage, feeling like it’s ten years in the past and I’ve been stopped by Billy Eichner on the street, suddenly incapable of remembering anything I’ve ever known about myself. “I love autumn there. I’m looking forward to seeing it soon. I like that I can walk everywhere. I like…my cats. And I like other things too. I just can’t remember when you put me on the spot.”
“There’s a certain way the light comes through your living room window in the morning,” Tatum says. “The one between the console table and the bookshelf. It slices right through. I think I could live there, in the sliver of warmth.”
“Yeah,” I say, pretending I’ve ever noticed what she’s describing. “I like that too.”
“I like knowing that someone will always be there to witness me,” she continues. “Even though there are so many people there, and I’m one of millions, I still feel like I could never get lost in it. I’m never really alone there.”
Her words make me ache. Because it’s the opposite of how I feel, I realize. When I am in New York, it doesn’t matter how loud I scream or how much of a mess I make—no one can see me at all.
She’s still going, listing things that are obvious to her, so easy to identify that she’s able to itemize in the dead of night with no preparation. “When you walk on the street, everyone has such purpose,” she tells me. “They’re going somewhere. And I like that even if I’m just going to get a coffee or to meet a friend, I have a purpose too. It’s like it gets injected into the air. You can’t help but move like life matters.”
“Yes,” I say, even though I’ve never, not once, thought that.
Or maybe I did, when I was younger and less aware of how life could hurt me. Maybe I used to have that same kind of hope. It’s been so long now it may as well have never existed.
“You could love it here,” Tatum tells me. “Our fall is just as beautiful. Nobody really walks anywhere, but that’s not to say you couldn’t. You could probably start an entire walking club at the park district and get half the town to join you if you want. And your cats would get lots of greenery to look at out the window. Not that your views of Central Park aren’t amazing. But they could enjoy seeing the woods. There are a lot of deer.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But I really do have to get going. I can’t miss my flight.”
“You don’t have to run away,” she says. “Carson wants you here. They want you to stay.”
“I promise you I don’t need you to solve my problems for me. I have been by myself for years. I can solve it all on my own.” I pull my luggage across the threshold, making it official. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it. Let me know if you ever need a place to stay in New York. I promise I’ll get a cleaner for it.”
It comes out harsher than I mean, but that’s for the better. If Tatum thinks poorly of me, she can tell Carson I’m the wrong person for them. That’s exactly what I need.
It’s time the fantasy ends for good.
“Does Carson know you’re leaving?” Tatum asks.
“I have a job interview with a new press agency. I need to be back as soon as possible,” I say, as if that’s somehow an answer.
“Please talk to Dawn,” she calls out as the door closes. “If nothing else.”