41. Annalise
Chapter forty-one
Annalise
By the time I get to Hunter’s house, I’m already annoyed.
Annoyed with myself because I’ve checked my phone seventeen times in the last hour and convinced myself every single time that I’m being ridiculous.
He’s hasn't text me all day.
At first, I blamed the storm.
The rain started sometime before breakfast, coming down in sheets against the windows, thunder rolling over Scion hard enough to rattle the glass. Phones have been unreliable during storms before, and my first few messages sitting unanswered didn’t seem strange.
Then Mattey sent a message to the group pushing dinner back an hour so he could finish working on something with Zest.
Then at the last message I sent Hunter.
Me: Are we still on for tonight?
Sent four hours ago.
No response.
Storm keeping you busy?
Nothing, fine, whatever. I shoved my phone into my pocket and told myself I wasn’t going to care…Which is probably why I’m standing on his front porch, soaked from jogging over here, and arguing with myself if I should knock or not.
No, I shouldn’t…but then I do.
Nothing.
I knock again, silence…and then the door opens, and Hunter looks at me, or more accurately, looks through me.
His phone is already in his hand. “Hey,” he says distractedly.
That one word manages to make my irritation spike.
“Hi?” He steps aside to let me in, eyes dropping immediately back to his screen. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
His thumb moves rapidly over his screen, and I watch him for a second…Then another.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Clearly.”
He glances up. “What?”
I gesture toward his phone. “You’ve been staring at that thing since I walked in but haven’t messaged me back all day.”
“I've had a lot going on.”
The words aren't rude, his tone isn't even particularly cold, but there’s something about the way he says them that makes me feel like I’m another thing on his list of problems.
“Everything okay?”
He looks back down, and I stand here waiting for a response that doesn’t come. For him to put the damn thing away. For him to look at me the way he normally does…Nothing. Instead, his brows pull together as he reads something, and his fingers start moving again.
“Hunter.”
“Mm?”
“Can you look at me?”
That gets his attention, his eyes finally lifting to meet mine and for half a second, everything in me relaxes...And then his phone vibrates, and he’s zoned back into whatever messages he’s reading.
Something inside me cracks.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
He exhales. “Annalise, I—” The words are barely out before I become non-existent once more, and I’ve officially hit my tipping point.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I laugh once.
It comes out brittle.
“Are you?”
His expression tightens.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ve barely talked to me all day. I thought something was wrong. Then I find out the storm isn't stopping your messages because apparently you can text other people just fine.”
His jaw flexes.
“I wasn't ignoring you.”
“Sure felt like it.”
“Annalise.”
“No. You know what? It's fine,” I say, reaching for my bag.
His eyes follow the movement. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“Why?”
I stare at him, unable to put all of my feelings and emotions into words right now.
I listened to a Delta recruit bragging about going home next week because she just found out she’s pregnant.
My counselor wasn’t available for me to talk to her while I spiraled, thinking about how I’d know the gender of my own baby by now if the attack never occurred.
All the things I thought I’d been moving on from just smacked me in the face this morning, and I don’t know how to put any of it into words without sounding needy and dramatic.
So I settle for the simplest answer. “Because you clearly have a million things going on, and I don't want to be another one.”
His face changes. “That's not what you are.”
“Then what am I?”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, and that silence slices so deep right now.
I sling my bag over my shoulder.
“I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Annalise, wait.”
I walk toward the door, and his voice follows me. “You've always been good at leaving.”
I stop.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid as the room goes silent, and the next thing I hear is the door slamming shut behind me as I run out into the storm.