Page 41 of Back to You
CHAPTER 14
Sebastian
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, the vibration loud in the quiet of my bedroom. I leap up from my bed, my heart knocking against my ribs as I reach for it.
It’s not her name on the screen. Of course, it isn’t. It’s just a spam text—“50% Off Outdoor & Survival Gear” because I really need that right now. My fingers tighten around my phone before tossing it back onto my nightstand, raking my hand through my hair.
I peer over at my nightstand, staring at my phone, the screen black, waiting. What am I waiting for? For her to text me? For some kind of sign that she’s thinking about me the way that I’m thinking about her? Fucking pathetic.
I’m acting like some lovesick kid, waiting for a message that, in my heart, I know isn’t coming. I’ve got better things to do. And yet, my eyes flick back to the screen like maybe something’s changed in the last five seconds.
I thought we had a moment that day in the lake. I could’ve sworn she was feeling everything that I felt. Or maybe I’m just an idiot. Maybe I’m reading into something that means nothing to her. She’s left me before; maybe she doesn’t feel the same. Thethought lands like a punch to the ribs, and I shake it off before it settles too deep.
My house is too damn quiet and too damn big, I hate it.
The silence and open space are a reminder of everything I want but don’t have, my thoughts too loud, taunting me. I push off my bed, the restlessness crawling under my skin like a slow burn.
I let out a sharp breath and pace back and forth, rubbing the back of my neck. My entire body feels this wired, restless, chaotic energy coursing through me. Like I need to move.
Like if I just continue to sit here, waiting around, I’ll end up doing something stupid. Like running to Mariana’s house and telling her everything I feel.
I grab my keys before I can think twice.
I don’t realize where I’m headed until I’m already on the road. The streets are quiet, the town winding down for the night, bathed in a dim orange glow from the streetlights.
I roll down the window, letting the crisp air slap me in the face, trying to cool the heat creeping up my neck. Most places are closed, their signs dark, but the diner—our diner—still glows in the distance.
I pull into the lot out of habit. I’ve been here plenty of times since she left; it’s not exactly a place I could avoid living in a town as small as ours.
But every time I come here, I force her out of my head, never letting thoughts of her infiltrate my mind—not about the way she used to sit cross-legged in the booth, stirring her hot chocolate like it was some kind of science experiment, not abouthow she’d swipe my fries without asking or how she always knew exactly what to say to make me forget everything else.
I sure as hell never sat outside, staring at the place like some idiot caught in the past. Yet, here I am, sitting in the parking lot, gripping the wheel, wondering what the hell I’m doing.
I reach for my phone before I even realize what I’m doing. Her name is there, at the top of my messages. I stare at it, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
Sebastian
Hey.
The cursor blinks. I type something else.
Sebastian
Been thinking about you.
Delete.
Sebastian
Hope you’re doing okay.
Delete.
I exhale sharply and lock the phone, tossing it onto the passenger seat. What the hell am I so afraid of? That she won’t answer? Or that she will? That I’ll say the wrong thing? That she’ll remind me why I never should’ve let myself hope in the first place? I run a hand down my face, letting my head fall back against the seat. This is stupid, I’m being stupid.
But the truth is, she’s in my head. Mariana is woven into me, threaded through my being so deeply that I can’t pull her loose, no matter how much I try.
It’s not just the memories of her. It’s the way my chest tightens when I hear her name. It’s the way my mind drifts to her when I least expect it.
