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“W-was he there last week?”
“Yeah.”
“The week before?”
“Yup.”
“The month before?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did you miss the ‘every night’ bit?” Jeremy asks with drawn eyebrows. “Here I thought I had a bizarre best friend, but yours could compete with Nikolai’s level of weirdness, Lisichka.”
“Stop being mean.”
“I’m not mean. I’m truly concerned.” He waves a hand in front of my face. “Are you all right? Blink if you can hear my voice.”
“What did he do when he visited?” I ask Cecily, or more like blurt it out in a rush of words.
“In the beginning, he stood outside the entire night. Then he sat by your bedside and read books to you.”
“Oh my God.” I thought I was dreaming about him all this time, but he was actually there.
I was hurt and conflicted, and immeasurably heartbroken that he’d never visited, only to find out he did it religiously.
He’d come to see me for five whole months.
Every single day.
I thought maybe he’d moved on while I was floundering in my permanent feelings for him, but that couldn’t be the case if he was there all this time, right?
A weight lifts off my chest and crushing hope rushes through me as if someone has breathed new life into me. It mounts, coils, and whispers tunes of expectation into my bruised heart.
As absurd as that sounds.
For the rest of the evening, I keep thinking about him—more than usual, I mean.
My pride forbids me from going to him. Or perhaps it’s fear that this is all just wishful thinking. What if this entire thing backfires and I end up being the one who’s hurt?
I’m listening to Remi and Lan talk nonsense when my phone vibrates.
My heart nearly spills on the floor when I see his name.
‘Tin Man’ surrounded by two hearts.
I’m such a hopeless case. I didn’t change it after I left the house, probably because he never called or texted.
Tin Man
Happy Birthday.
My heart falls as I read and reread his words. I type ‘That’s all?’ and then delete it. ‘And here I thought you forgot I existed,’then delete it. ‘Why do you still have the ability to break my heart, you damn twat?’
Delete.
He knows it’s my birthday, and instead of offering a present like everyone who’s sane, he chose to send me a dry text.
Me
