Page 87 of Back to You
“DO YOU THINK I’D CRUMBLE? DID YOU THINK I’D LAY DOWN AND DIE?”
Maybe it’s the way she looks at me, like she’s seeing the girl I used to be, like she’s willing me to find her again, or maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve done something this stupid. Either way…I sigh, and I start singing. Badly. Loudly. With no care in the world.
By the time we hit the chorus, we’re both screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs, the wind carrying our voices out the open windows.
For weeks, maybe even months, I haven’t felt this light.
But now, a spark of hope flickers—maybe, just maybe, I can feel something other than loss.
When she finally parks, I recognize the place instantly—the outdoor market. The same one my mom used to take us to when we were younger. The one with fresh bread, homemade jewelry, and flowers in every color. The one where my mom would always make us pick out a fruit we’d never tried before, even when we’d whine about it.
My stomach tightens.
“Anna…”
“It’s just a market, Mari,” she says softly, but we both know she picked it on purpose. She picked this place because it’s familiar, because it feels like my old life.
She steps out without giving me a chance to protest.
Without thinking, I follow.
The scent of warm bread and roasted coffee lingers in the air. People move between stands, chatting, laughing, and existing. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I’d been around this many people.
Anna buys a loaf of fresh pan sobao, breaking off a piece and handing it to me without a word; I take it. We walk, passing flower stands and handmade jewelry booths, the kind of things my mom used to love. Something tight pulls in my chest, but I don’t let it break me, not here.
"You used to love coming here," Anna says, glancing at me.
I nod. "Yeah."
"You’d always beg your mom for those ridiculous honey sticks."
I let out a small, unexpected laugh. "They weren’t ridiculous. They were good."
Anna grins. "Okay, but you never actually ate them. You just collected them in a drawer and forgot about them."
I roll my eyes, but I feel it, the lightness; it’s brief but real. We keep walking, and for a while, it feels like nothing’s changed, as if I’m still me. As if I’m not someone who let love slip through my fingers, someone who is still drowning in her own grief.
But then, we pass a vendor selling handmade candles, and one of them…vanilla and cinnamon. It smells like Sebastian’s apartment, I freeze.
Anna watches me carefully. "Mari-"
I shake my head, my throat too tight, my chest too full, too raw. I take a step back, desperate for air, even out here, I still can’t breathe.
I turn, walking away from the stand, gripping the paper bag with the bread so tightly my knuckles turn white. Anna catches up easily, she doesn’t ask what’s wrong, she already knows.
We sit on a bench near the edge of the market; I feel the warmth of the sun against my skin, but it doesn’t reach the part of me that’s still frozen.
Anna lets the silence stretch before finally speaking. "Are you happy, Mari?"
I flinch. The answer should be easy. Instead, it sticks to the roof of my mouth. "I’m fine," I say, but my voice cracks on the last word.
Anna doesn’t hesitate. "No, you’re not."
Tears burn behind my eyes, I force them down. "I can’t…" My voice shakes. I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.
Anna exhales. "You can pretend you don’t miss him," she says quietly. "But Mari… I’ve known you my whole life, and I’ve never seen you like this."
A tear escapes, but I wipe it away quickly—like it was never there. "I don’t know how to fix this," I whisper.
