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I run, a full-on track-star sprint. I’m the healthy one. Even if he follows, he’ll never catch me because I don’t want to be caught. I just want to escape.
Once I pass the bus stop, none of the streets look familiar, but it doesn’t matter because I just want to keep running.
And I do for some time until my lungs demand that I stop to catch my breath. But I keep moving, walking through the vapor clouds formed by my own panting breath. Now that I’m not running, a chill creeps over me, starting a persistent shivering that radiates out from the shattered organ in my chest that somehow continues to pump.
Spotting a city bus, I board it because the action is familiar, and in a way, it soothes me.
I sit in the back and curl in on myself. The pain claws under my skin, and I can’t keep it inside anymore.
So, on a public bus, surrounded by strangers, heading in an unknown direction, I do my best to sob silently into my hands.
I’m very bad at it. Probably from lack of practice.
This goes on for a decent amount of time. Like a make everyone else on the bus uncomfortable amount of time.
At one point, when we slow down for another stop, I hear someone clear their throat next to me. Glancing up, I find a middle-aged woman with a kind, pitying expression watching me. She stands next to my seat, holding on to an overhead handle in order to steady herself. Without speaking, she hands me a package of travel tissues.
Numbly, I accept them, earning myself a small smile before she gets off the bus. Using the tissues to soak up my tears, I stare out the window, doing my best to figure out where I’ve landed in the city. It takes a good five minutes, but finally, I recognize a few storefronts. We’re headed west.
I know someone in west Philly.
I have a destination now. A place to go where the pain might hurt a little less.
My hands search in my pockets, looking for my phone so that I can let him know I’m on my way. I come up with my wallet but nothing else.
I must have left it at the apartment. Not that it matters really.
Because who needs to announce themselves when they’re going home?
BEN
Twenty-four hours and still no word from Holly. Maybe most people wouldn’t think that’s a lot of time, but to me, it might as well have been a month.
Over and over in my head, I play out the scene of her yelling at my parents and me. The devastation on her face. The sound of those harsh curses she normally avoids.
Holly was in a bad place, but instead of seeking comfort in me, she ran away. Too fast for me to catch her.
Now, I can’t find her.
Well, I kind of did. When she didn’t return my calls or texts, I drove to her apartment, but there was no answer. It being Saturday, I figured she might have gone into work early. Both Ways wasn’t open yet, but when I knocked on the door, a huge guy with a thick black beard and more tattoos than even me appeared. Turned out, he was her boss, Curt, and Holly already asked for her time off. Apparently, she was worried about being exposed to so many people this close to the surgery. She didn’t want to catch a cold.
Lacking any other options, I called her brother, whose number I still had from that first meeting.
The first time I had seen Holly.
Luckily, Marcus picked up just after the second ring. Fred had already talked to him about the problem, so I knew I wasn’t going to deal with another round of being the bad-news messenger. Instead, I got straight to the real reason I’d called.
“Yeah, I just got word from my dad. She’s at his place. She doesn’t have her phone on her. I’m getting on the train to Philly now.”
There was a lot of background noise and the sound of departures being announced.
Some of the panic twisting my stomach eased. At least she wasn’t wandering around the city.
“She’s upset. Just … she was cursing.”
“She what?”
Even over the phone, I could tell I’d shocked him.
