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I never made it to the van

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I never made it to the van. The moment it pulled over by the curb, I had such a clear picture of what waited for me at home —the thick silence, all the subtle gestures of resentment and reproach— that I stepped out of the line. I couldn't take any of it. Leaving room twelve had demanded all my will and strength. I didn't have any left to deal with Steph's petty dramas, whether she ignored me or put up one of her scenes.

Without any clue or plan, I started across the parking lot toward the quiet lanes that led to the gates. Which I never reached. I found a stone bench halfway and I just sat down there. I don't remember thinking about anything in particular. I didn't even listen to any music. I simply lingered there, breathing the cool breeze in the autumn nightfall. I'd just turned my back on something I longed for as much as I feared it, more than I was prepared to admit. I needed a little break before going back to my little domestic hell. I felt liberated and I felt awful. I couldn't believe I'd dared to do it and I couldn't believe how easy it'd turned out to be.

I have no idea how long I sat there. The night closed overhead and I could hear the shuttles coming and going every five or ten minutes. The regular tapping of approaching footsteps on the gravel kicked me back from my catatonic state, right in time to see a man trotting around the next bend toward the Square.

I rolled my eyes. Of course I'd picked a bench along Big Ellie's night run route.

He slowed down when he spotted me sitting there like a statue to a fool. He was wearing short sweatpants to his knees, a baggy tee with a surf print and worn-out sneakers, light-years away from the bossy CEO in his flawless suits. He had his phone strapped to his arm and wireless earbuds, that he tapped to pause whatever he was listening to.

"Dean?" he tried, stopping with a puzzled frown.

I looked up, like asking if he was talking to me.

"What're you doing here?"

I opened my mouth, but I had no answer, so I just shrugged. He studied me from narrowed eyes and nodded to the building.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's have dinner."

I took my turn for the puzzled frown, like he'd spoken in tongues. Big Ellie chuckled, shaking his head.

"C'mon, boy. Give me an excuse to skip the last stretch."

I couldn't tell why I stood up even if my life depended on it. Maybe out of habit of doing anything he told me to.

"You didn't feel like going back home yet?" he asked as we headed back to the Square together.

I shook my head, wondering why I was so incapable of saying no to him.

"And you don't have anywhere else to go."

I shook my head again. No matter how pathetic it sounded, there was no point in lying after he'd found me like that.

When we reached the parking lot, he took me around the Square to a door on the west side. He pressed his thumb on a touchscreen on the frame and waited. It took a moment to slide open, revealing a glass elevator that ran on the outer side of the building. I'd never been on that side of the lot, basically because I had nothing to do there, so I'd never seen the elevator before. We got in and the booth started up the glass well, letting the city skyline show up past the trees that surrounded the lot fence. The booth had no buttons: it had only one destination.

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