Page 75 of Please Don't Leave Me

Once we get to the airport, I help B get her bags out of the trunk and give her one last hug. "Be safe. And remember not to go in the catacomb." She giggles and rolls her eyes. "I'm very serious, B. You saw those videos I sent you; people die down there."

"I promise I won't go down there, or get kidnapped, or get hit by a train, or..."

I wrap her in one more hug. "I love you."

She pulls back and looks at me. "Are yousureyou don't want me to stay?"

"I'm sure."

"I'll see you in a week, and then we're celebrating the shit out of your birthday." She starts wheeling her bag away, and I get back in my car. She turns around and yells so I can hear her through my closed car window, "I love you!"

I blow her a kiss, and then she disappears through the doors.

B has been gonefor two days now, and I have never been so low. I've barely been getting through work.

A few people have asked if I got my results back over the long weekend, and I have to fight back the tears and lie. I regret telling anyone I took it. If I hadn't, then I wouldhave been able to retake it, and no one would have known I failed it the first time.

I can't decide what's worse, the thought of telling people I failed or the fact that I have to study and take that exam all over again. And then I have to do that all over again, at least five more times, assuming I don't fail any more.

The odds of me failing more along the way seem so much higher now. Any time I get caught up thinking about it, I have to shake myself out of a funk. I try to avoid the topic if I can. I'll tell them eventually; I have to. I'm just not ready to tell them now. It's too fresh.

I'm off work now, and I'm just lying on the couch, snuggling Pepin, and watching a movie. It's one of my favorites, but as I sit here, I feel nothing. Not sadness, not joy, not confusion. I feel numb. Not in the way where my limbs are tingly, but inside.

An ad for food delivery pops up on the screen, and it reminds me that I haven't eaten yet today. In fact, I think the last time I ate was yesterday morning.

I pull out my phone to order some food for delivery. As I scroll through my options, nothing sounds good, and I don't even think I'm that hungry. I lock my phone and throw it back on the coffee table. I lean my head back on the couch and slump down into an uncomfortable position. I stay there for a while before my back muscles spasm, and I have to readjust myself.

I'm so exhausted. It's only six in the evening, but I already want to go to bed. I barely managed to take Pepin on his daily walk yesterday. I convinced myself the fresh air would do me some good, but I still felt the same.

I haven't taken him on a walk today, and I'm surprised he hasn't reminded me. Usually, when it's getting late and he hasn't been on a walk, he reminds me with one preciousbark. Pepinneverbarks, only when he wants to go on his walk. And even then, it's one soft, deep bark, and he's done.

I look at him and debate on getting up and taking him; I just can't.

I pick up my phone again and start scrolling through social media. Almost right away, I notice a notification. I haven't posted anything recently, so I'm confused as to what it could be. Maybe one of the girls posted about the weekend and tagged me. I click on the notification and see that someone liked a photo of mine. I don't recognize the username, so I click on them. My profile is public, so anyone can view my feed. But it's not often that strangers like my posts.

When the profile loads, I freeze. It's Tony. I quickly click to see if he's following me; he's not. So he had to go out of his way to go to my profile and like a photo of mine. Maybe he was just creeping and accidentally liked one.

That still doesn't sit well with me.

I go back to notifications to see which photo he liked. I click to make the image pop up and see that it's an old picture of me in a bikini with friends.

The thought of him in his home looking at my page makes me sick. I always knew that people would do that if I had my profile public, but it has never felt this gross. I quickly go into settings and change my profile to private.

I'm breathing heavily, and my heart races, but at least now he can't see them anymore.

I get another notification. Tony has requested to follow me. I shake because that means he has been looking at my profile a lot to notice that I just went private. He liked the picture sometime yesterday. How many times has he looked at my pictures?

I take deep breaths to calm myself. Why am I reactinglike this? If it were a boy I liked, I'd be thrilled if I knew he looked at my page a lot. But all of a sudden, I can feel his breath on my neck. I can feel the crushing weight on his arm around my waist. I can feel his skin under my fingernails and his hushed voice in my ear.

I jump up from the couch and run to the bathroom. I can feel tears streaming down my face, but I can't feel the emotion of it. I just feel physically ill, like my brain can't process everything that's happened in the last few days, so my body is trying to do it. I get to the bathroom and have no clue why I came in here.

My body is on autopilot.

I rip the shower curtain open. I grab the handle and flip the shower on, getting into the tub fully clothed. I let the water hit my face, and I can't tell if it stings because it's too cold or too hot. Either way, I don't care.

I reach out my foot and step on the drain to plug it, allowing the water to start pooling up in the bottom of the tub. I sit down under the stream and let the water crash over me.

As an unknown amount of time passes, the water gets higher and higher. I stare at the wall the whole time, stuck in my head with all my thoughts.

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