Page 10 of Piece By Piece

But it seems like there was no reason for that last attempt anyway, seeing as the attacker is now running in the opposite direction with my belongings in tow. I watch his shadow disappear into the night, numb for a beat until the first broken sob falls from my split lips.

I didn’t feel the sound coming, and I startle myself as it pierces the otherwise silent night. One hand comes up to cover my mouth to stifle any more cries, but I can’t get myself to move otherwise.

The longer I sit there, the more the cold registers again and I realize I’m shivering. My jaw and the entire side of my face is throbbing numbly. The familiarity of it all is enough to make me cry even harder. I close my eyes and for a second, I’m not out here at all. Instead, I’m out in the garden with my father on a chilly Christmas eve many years ago.

My lip was bleeding then, too. Or maybe my eye was. And six-year-old me was crying and shivering just like I am now. But I was not alone then. No, my dad was with me, pacing the small, unkept lawn in an anxious habit.“You don’t understand. Just be quiet, Aliena. Just stop being so needy and asking for things you cannot have! You are agitating your mother!”he pleaded with me, as desperate as he was angry.

I didn’t understand back then. Didn’t understand how much he had to do to pay for our rent and make sure our little family had food on the table. He was grasping at straws, and there was little me, asking for more. I don’t even remember what it was. Some doll or something that my classmate talked about the week before at school.

I wanted that stupid toy so much that when my parents told me there were no presents, I made a scene. My dad, stressed as he was back then, saw that my mother became upset too and didn’t know what else to do but force me outside and punish me with a punch to make me shut up.

In retrospect, I know he didn’t mean any harm. He always cared about me. It’s just that he cared about mom too and nothing good ever followed when she was agitated. She had developed a habit, back then, and I was a stupid kid that didn’t understand that I only made things worse.

She lost her job and started stealing from dad, who was already struggling to make ends meet as it was. That Christmas, he got an old tree that was supposed to be thrown away at the market for free so we could decorate it like we always had. Of course, I didn’t understand how much effort he put into that itself and demanded more. Always more.

I was a shit kid.

Small stones dig deeper into my palm and the memory fades. For a beat, I hardly understand where I am, and my stomach turns with nausea like it tends to do after flashbacks. I grit my teeth and get to my feet, nearly falling back down as a wave of disorientation hits me. Fuck, I’m dizzy.

Not confident in my ability, and sure of my disinterest in walking home the rest of the way, I decide to do the only thing that’s left for me to do and walk toward the nightmarish phone booth. My heart is still racing, and it only worsens when I try to recall the number of any friend of mine. I start crying more.

I always knew Lilianne’s number by heart, but she just got a new one and I never bothered to memorize it. I sure as hell don’t know any of the others’. Except for one, that is.The last person I’d like to call or have with me right now. Not when I’m crying and dizzy and lost.

I finally reach the booth and a weight drops from my chest when the door opens easily. My confidence that I could even get inside was below the ground the closer I got to the old thing. I type in Sebastian’s number with shaky hands and dread in my chest. What if he doesn’t pick up? Would he bother to pick me up after what happened tonight? Maybe he’d at least tell Lily or Andrew that I could use some help. I don’t doubt they’d come in a heartbeat.

The only reason I know his damn number in the first place is that I used to catch glances at it at the nursing home after his first visit and dream about it lighting up on my screen on boring days. That was before I truly met him. And, of course, there was that one time I had to dial his number over and over again because, not unlike now, my view was blurry from too many tears.

I hold the receiver to my ear and listen to it ring, suppressing a sob as the seconds drag on and my hopes shrivel. I count the high-pitched sounds, growing more anxious the higher the number becomes. How long until it disconnects? And what do I do when it does? I really don’t want to walk home alone. I’m too shaky. Too dizzy. And my head is throbbing.

Shit, did I hit my head? I thought I only fell on my ass but I’m not sure. My head sure feels as if I hit it. Unless the person that robbed me just put much more force behind the punch than I was used to. My dad probably always went easy on me.

I sob again on the fifth ring, clutching my stomach with my empty hand as more nausea rolls over me. Finally, just when I’m sure I’ll have no choice but to walk the rest of the way, the most beautiful sound reaches my ear.

“Sebastian Henderson. Who’s this?” He picks up the call.

Chapter 6

Aliena

Last September

“Sebastian Henderson. Who’s this?”

Shit. He picked up. He actually picked up. Fuck, I’m not ready for this. I really, really am not. I don’t have the right words. I’m not calm. Shit, I should have let a doctor do this. Or another nurse. Someone who was less personally involved in the situation. Anyone but me. I really shouldn’t have called.

But I wanted it to be me. I thought that maybe it would help to get the news from someone he knows, someone who shares some of his pain. Or maybe I did it for my sake. Because I wanted to hear his familiar voice. No matter how rude he is to me at times, he’s still my friend. I could need that now.

I swallow a sob, biting down on my tongue behind the hand that’s clasped over my mouth. I’ve been crying for an hour already, why can’t I stop now? I wanted to stop to make this call, that’s why I waited this long in the first place. But I couldn’t put it off any longer. It isn’t fair to keep this from him for so long. We’re to notify the loved ones as shortly after the death of a resident as possible. God, I really am messing this up.

If only I hadn’t gotten so damn attached to someone I knew was on borrowed time. After nearly six years ofworking here, I should have known better. If only I hadn’t gotten so used to her asking about my day or weekends, her sweet smiles, and those Cribbage lessons. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel as if something was stolen from me now. Taken unjustly. Broken right out of my chest.

I hold the phone away from my face and take a shaky breath.

“Sebastian, hey. Here’s Bloomfield living care. Um, it’s Aliena.” I hiccup, remembering the time Rosie introduced me to him. If only I hadn’t met him then. Maybe I never would’ve been able to imagine the sweet man he could be. I never would have met the loving, polite side of him that I never got another glimpse of since that first meeting. I saw on the visitor list that he only ever came when I wasn’t there and whenever we were forced to hang out together with our friends, he was different.

Relaxed and funny with his friends and Lily. Occasionally he even spared some humor for me. After our rocky start at his party, he never really warmed up to me and I never tried to change that. He was laid back and left me alone. Whenever we didn’t have those stolen, rare moments where our chemistry would bubble up unexpectantly.

One time I stumbled on the sidewalk, and he had to steady me by the elbows. I looked up at him and for a second, something warm flickered to live in those dark eyes. Another time, I spilled some of my drink on him and stupidly tried to clean it. Again, our eyes locked with my hand on his chest and in that short moment, I almost kissed him. I thought he almost kissed me.

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