Page 100 of Midnight Between Us
I’ll reach out when I feel like I become the version of myself I deserve.
–Keir T.
He’s gone,but at least this time, there’s a goodbye.Well, there’s no goodbye, but I feel like it’s between those lines.I hope he does get help.I’m glad he finally wants to become something more than the wreckage he’s carried.
“I’ve been asking you to take him, and you ignored me,” I say out loud, not sure if Finnegan is still there.“Why now?”
“Honestly, I was going to say fuck you.But Lyn was here and ...I did it for him.”He clears his throat.“You’re still on assignment.”
“I know.”
“If you need anything, let me know.It’s not a prison.”
“I know.Thank you for ...go back to your family dinner.”I hang up, then fold the note and slip it into my back pocket.I don’t need to keep it somewhere special.The words are already branded behind my eyes.
I go to the kitchen and make tea.
I sit on the back porch, knees curled to my chest, staring out at the tree line.
I think of Lyndon.I wonder if he’s ever felt like part of himself was missing.If he’s ever been told that missing doesn’t mean broken, just waiting to be filled in with something tangible.I know he’s had a better life than Keir and I did, but sometimes I’m afraid that we fucked him up just by existing.
Sure, I’m in therapy and I try to use reason, but there’s always that fucked up part of your being that doesn’t let you be one hundred percent okay.It takes you to the past and the things you never liked about yourself.
I close my eyes.Let the silence settle over me.
It’s different this time.
Not suffocating.
Not accusing.
It lets me think.
About the letters I wrote.About the girl I used to be.About the way grief twists into shame when you carry it too long without saying it out loud.
I wasn’t just angry at Keir.
I was angry at Nina, my grandparents, and myself.
Mostly at myself for loving someone who didn’t stay.
For believing that love could survive in a town like this.I know better now.So much better.
ChapterForty-Seven
Simone,
It’s been three weeks since I left Birchwood Springs.
More accurately, three weeks since I left your house.
I never actually stepped foot into town.Isn’t that strange?I lived on the edge of it—breathed its air, saw its trees—but I never let myself be in it.Not once.
Lately, I keep wondering what’s changed.If the bookstore still smells like dust and vanilla.If the flower shop still looks like pink cotton candy exploded on its front porch.Maybe it’s all different now.Or maybe it’s just me who’s changed.
The place where they’re helping me—it’s called Luna Recovery & Restoration.Sounds like a fancy hotel spa, right?It’s tucked in the heart of Silverthorne Bay, a town so small I could walk through it in under ten minutes and still have time to question every single one of my life choices.
To get in, they changed my name.
