Page 9 of Connor

The knock came just as I flattened out the last corner of the sheet on Vic’s makeshift bed.

I stepped back, tilting my head, evaluating my work. It wasn’t perfect—the sheets were a little wrinkled from being stuffed in my suitcase, and the pillowcase didn’t quite match the comforter—but it would do. At least I’d managed to put something together before he arrived. I wanted it to feel like home, or at least as close to home as I could make it.

The knock came again, louder this time.

“Alright, alright,” I called, hurrying toward the door, smoothing my shirt down as I reached for the handle.

When I swung it open, Vic stood on the other side, grinning like he hadn’t just spent four hours in the car.

“What, no balloons? No welcome banner?” he teased, stepping inside before I could invite him in. He set his bag down by the couch and stretched. “You’re slacking, little sister.”

“Yeah, well, the parade got rained out.”

He huffed out a laugh and pulled me in for a quick hug, squeezing just a little too tight before letting me go. “I missed you, kid.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and stepped back, forcing a smile. “Missed you too.”

It wasn’t a lie. I did miss him—more than I wanted to admit. But having Vic here, standing in my tiny new apartment, made something twist in my chest. It felt like I was seeing a ghost of my past life. My real life. The one I left behind.

And that life included Connor and the pseudo-relationship we’d had. I pushed the thought away before it could take root.

“C’mon, I made up the couch for you,” I said, stepping aside and motioning toward the setup. “Not exactly five-star accommodations, but…”

Vic flopped onto the couch with zero hesitation, bouncing slightly on the cushions before stretching out with a satisfied sigh. “Nah, this is great.” His hand patted the pillow. “Hotel Blake has top-tier service.”

I snorted, shaking my head as I moved back toward the boxes I had yet to unpack. “Is this all that’s left?” he asked, eyeing the small stack.

“Yeah. Just random stuff. Nothing important.”

That was only half true. Most of what was left were things I didn’t need right away—some books, a few decorative things, old keepsakes I wasn’t sure why I even brought. Things I had packed and unpacked three times before finally setting them aside forlater.

And now,laterhad arrived.

I bent down, prying open a box, the scent of old paper and forgotten memories hitting me at once. The first thing I pulled out was a framed photo of Vic and me from two summers ago. He had me in a headlock, both of us grinning like idiots.

I smiled, brushing my fingers over the glass. “Remember this?”

Vic peered over the back of the couch, his grin widening. “Damn, I forgot about that day. We’d just finished that insane hike, right?”

“The one you swore would only take an hour?” I shot him a pointed look.

He laughed. “Hey, I wasmostlyright.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the frame aside before reaching for another item. My fingers brushed against something soft, and when I pulled it out, my stomach clenched. A hoodie. Connor’s hoodie. I didn’t even remember packing it. Didn’t remembershoving it into the bottom of this box. But now it was here, in my hands, the fabric worn and familiar, the scent of him long gone but stilltherein a way I couldn’t explain.

I should put it back. I should shove it to the bottom of the box and pretend I never saw it. Vic could recognize it. He’d have questions. But putting it away felt like an impossibility.

Instead, I swallowed hard and set it in my lap, keeping my hands busy smoothing out invisible wrinkles.

Vic, thankfully, hadn’t noticed. He was too busy stretching out on the couch, rubbing a hand over his face.

“You hungry?” I asked quickly, my voice a little too high.

“Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Always.”

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