56. Isabella
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
ISABELLA
It doesn’t take long to pack a bag and hop into my car, beginning the drive back to the city first thing in the morning. According to my GPS, it should take about two hours with traffic.
I refuse to admit that I’m sneaking out of town with my wounded tail between my legs.
But I still avoid Main Street completely, choosing instead to wind through the neighborhood streets to get to the main state route.
The autumn air twirls through the open window, filling the car with the scents of a lazy Lunamois morning.
The scents of what I now thought of as home.
With each inch of distance I put between me and this town—me and Nick—the gaping hole in my chest widens.
With each inch of distance, I just want to go back.
With each inch of distance, I don’t feel like I can.
With each inch of distance, my indecision grows until it swallows me whole.
Nick has wounds on his heart from losing the people he loves. I have wounds on mine from the way I was raised. Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean that I can get past this on a whim and a prayer.
As I put more space between us, I’m able to step away from the heightened emotions that ruled me yesterday. Nick wasn’t being malicious. I believe that.
He just went about it horribly.
I need him to understand that I felt unwanted, and for him to genuinely apologize for it. But part of me still wants to work through this.
And not even because he’s my mate or whatever. But because it’s Nick.
Nick, who made me feel like I was enough until he didn’t.
Nick, who unlocked a confidence in me I never knew existed.
Nick, who showed me how to ask for what I need.
I replay our first meeting in my head as I drive the first half hour.
Replay our first date through the second.
Replay the first kiss through the third.
Replay the first time we made love through the fourth and final.
I don’t think I’ve missed Seattle at all. Especially not as I finally get out of gridlock traffic and pull into the parking lot of the apartment building and into my designated spot.
It doesn’t even feel like mine. I wouldn’t even care if someone used it while I was gone.
I step out of my car, grab my bag, and make my way to the elevator and up to the apartment.
It’s a basic place. Nicer than it should be, but that’s the tradeoff for having to suffer through four roommates.
I unlock the door, and the unfamiliarity of it hits like a ton of bricks. This isn’t home. This was never home.
Seeing as it’s the middle of the day on Saturday, I’m not surprised no one is home. And I’m thankful for it. Not that I really even know any of them, but I’m glad I don’t have to make awkward small talk when all I want to do is leave.
The modernity of the apartment makes it too cold. Too devoid of emotion. I make my way through the blank white walls to my room. The only place with any real character. All my tchotchkes and knick-knacks line the shelves and desk, bringing a warmth to the space that it desperately needs.
I trail my fingers along my snow globe collection, my framed photos, my small stuffed animals that I refuse to admit exist.
The image of these in Nick’s house comes unbidden. The snow globes would go on the mantle above the fireplace and in the guest bedroom. My photos would line the walls, and the stuffed animals would hide in our bedroom.
Our bedroom.
I plop onto the bed, heart aching in my chest. I need to put Nick away for a moment and figure out what’s best for me.
I’m not going to do that if I fixate.
My phone buzzes and I wince, hoping it isn’t anyone from Lunamois. Surprisingly, it’s my mother.
“Are you back in town yet?” she asks as soon as I pick up. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I miss you’. But I didn’t expect much else from her.
“Just got back, actually,” I reply, the words hollow.
I can hear her flipping through a magazine or book. “Come to lunch tomorrow. It’s been far too long.”
Maybe it’ll be good for me.
“Okay, Mom.”
We hang up not too long after, and I gaze around my room.
I don’t want to be here, but for now? I need to be.