Page 131 of Big Dill

Thirty minutes later, the driver pulls up in front of Lauren’s downtown apartment, tucked close to the hospital. I thank him, grab my bags, and step inside the building, the warmth hitting me all at once. Muscle memory takes over as I pull out my key and let myself in.

The apartment is exactly the same—warm, cozy, welcoming. The faint scent of coffee clings to the air, and the familiar couch sits in its usual place, like it’s been waiting for me. God, I’ve spent so much of my life here. Late nights. Early mornings. Laughter. Tears.

For one fragile second, it feels like coming home.

Then reality settles in. This isn’t my place anymore. This isn’t where I belong.

Exhaustion crashes over me, and I drop onto the sofa, shoes still on, and close my eyes, telling myself it’ll only be for a minute.

The next thing I know, a noise pulls me out of sleep. My eyes fly open, panic flaring before I remember where I am. My heart slows as my vision clears.

Lauren stands in the kitchen. “Hey,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.

She turns and hurries toward me. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” I say, pushing myself upright. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” she says quickly. “It was time for me to get up anyway.”

She watches me too closely as I sit up, her eyes narrowing like she’s already cataloguing everything I’m not saying.

“I…I needed to get out of Churchill Falls,” I say, forcing a small laugh as I try not to cry. “Too small for me.”

Lauren tilts her head, that familiar look crossing her face, the one that says she can see straight through my bullshit. “I didn’t mean to just show up like this,” I add, the words tumbling out. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.” I shake my head, my stomach coiling. “I should’ve known from your text.”

“My text?” she asks.

“You didn’t sound happy to hear from me.”

She lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Jami, I’d just finished a brutal night shift. And if you want the truth?” She hesitates, then meets my eyes. “I wasn’t happy to hear from you.”

My chest tightens. “Right. Okay.”

Lauren sits on the edge of the coffee table, the soft hiss of the coffee maker filling the silence between us. “The truth is,” she says. “I was hoping you weren’t coming back.”

The words land like a punch.

Oh God.

Am I not wanted anywhere?

“I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, shame burning hot in my throat. “You’ve moved on.”

I push to my feet, panic urging me to flee before I can fall apart completely, but Lauren’s hand closes around my arm, stopping me. I drop back onto the couch.

“Jami,” she says firmly. “You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?” I demand, my voice breaking despite my best effort to hold it together.

She exhales slowly. “I love you. I will always love you. You’re my best friend. That is never going to change.” Her hand drops, and she gestures toward the window, the city beyond it. “But this… this isn’t where you belong anymore.”

The tears come fast, hot, unstoppable. “I don’t know where I belong,” I admit, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat.

We sit in silence, the weight of it pressing down on both of us. Finally, she breaks it.

“You sounded so happy in Churchill Falls,” she says. “I barely heard from you, and I thought…I took it as a good sign.” Her brow raises. “You…Brody.”

“There is no me and Brody,” I say, the truth cutting deep. “Not anymore.”