Page 29 of Connor

"I’m still at the clinic."

My stomach clenched. Right.

His therapy sessions. The ones I never asked about. Because Aiden was doing what I wasn’t. He was fixing himself. While I was out here, digging myself deeper.

I clenched my jaw. "I need you to come home."

Silence. Then, "What happened?"

"Mom’s leaving."

Aiden cursed under his breath. "You’re sure?"

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I saw the suitcase, Aiden. She’s already decided."

Another pause, then Aiden’s voice softened. "And you think me being there is gonna change her mind?"

I didn’t know. But I needed to try something. I needed to try everything.

"Just—come home, man." My voice cracked slightly, and I fucking hated it. "Please."

Silence. Then, carefully, "Connor, I think she’s more worried about you than about herself."

I stiffened. "That’s not what this is about."

Aiden sighed. "Isn’t it?"

I could hear it in his voice. The concern. The exhaustion. The fucking disappointment. He thought I was gone, too. Just like her. My throat went tight.

"I’m fine," I muttered, but it sounded like a lie even to me.

Aiden didn’t respond right away. Then, quietly, "I know you don’t want to hear this, but—maybe Mom’s not wrong."

"About what?" I forced the words out, even though I already knew.

"You," he said. No hesitation. No softness this time. "You’re not okay, Connor. And we can’t keep pretending you are."

I hated how fast the words cut through me. Like a knife straight through the ribs. "You think I don’t fucking know that?" I snapped.

"Then do something about it," Aiden shot back.

Silence hung thick between us. I couldn’t breathe. I felt exposed. Raw. Cornered. And for the first time in months, I realized—I was fucking terrified. I was so goddamn lost I couldn’t even see the way back. But before I could say anything—before I could even process it—my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Another name flashed across the screen. North. I let out a breath, pressing my fingers against my temple, my pulse racing.

What the hell did he want? My chest felt hollow, like something had been scooped out and left to rot.

"You used to be strong."Mom’s voice rattled in my skull, looping over and over."You used to fight for what you wanted."

What had I wanted? My job? No. My mother to stay? No. I wanted to stop feeling like a ghost of myself. I wanted to stop waking up next to women who weren’t her. I wanted to stop hearing Summer’s voice in my head every time I drank too much, every time I let myself fall apart, every time I fuckedsomeone who meant nothing. I wanted to stop remembering the way she whispered my name that last night, like it was something precious—like I was something worth keeping. But she left. And I let her. And now I didn’t know how to be anything other than this.

The phone buzzed in my hand. Sharp. Suddenly.

Incoming Call:North.

My stomach twisted. I almost didn’t answer. Not now. Not when I was—

I swiped the screen. "What?" My voice was raw, strained.

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